John 17:6-19
Easter 2B
Occasionally, when it seems to be the appropriate question on a pastoral visit, or more recently a pastoral Zoom call, I will ask, “What are you praying for?”
This often illuminates the state of someone’s spirit and helps me know how I might join them in prayer. This question seems to be an appropriate one to ask our text from John 17, because in the midst of his farewell discourse with the disciples, Jesus prays for them.
Before jumping into the content of Jesus’ prayer, stop for a moment to reflect on the act itself. Jesus prays for his disciples. He “asks on their behalf.” To use the traditional theological descriptions, Jesus is fulfilling the office of “priest.” As he shares final words with his disciples before his arrest, abandonment, trial and crucifixion, Jesus prays for those he loves.
Intercessory prayer and the sharing of “thoughts and prayers” has been challenged in these days of perpetual news of injustice; racism; gun violence; and pandemic case numbers, hospitalizations and deaths. The pain in the world and in the hearts of congregation members calls out for action. In the pages of the Presbyterian Outlook, Jill Duffield, Ted Wardlaw and Charles Wiley are but a few who have faithfully reflected on the offering of thoughts and prayers in a time of tragedy. I encourage you to read their articles as part of your lectionary reflection this week. Perhaps the hymn penned by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette titled “If We Just Talk of Thoughts and Prayers” will be a resource for you as well.
While it may be easy to dismiss “thoughts and prayers” as an attempt to delay or ignore the importance of faithful action, Jesus still stops and prays for his disciples. Jesus knows that action and self-sacrifice will soon come, but prayer is an equally essential piece of this night. As he prepares to depart from them, Jesus loves his disciples. Jesus prays for them.
Have you experienced love like that? Has someone prayed for you in a way that changed your life? I began serving in my current call in August 2020, in the midst of the pandemic. For appropriate, loving and wise reasons, we held a service of installation virtually in October. Knowing they could not be physically present in the sanctuary to offer their prayers of love and support, members of the PNC (pastor nominating committee) and session designed a stole to be given to me before the prayer of installation. Various ruling elders traced their hand prints, which were then transferred onto colorful cloth and then sewn together to create a beautiful stole. Placing that stole over my shoulders on that day, I could feel the prayers of these saints surrounding, supporting, upholding and loving me. It has been such a gift as we sought to begin to serve Christ together.
I have felt the power of intercessory prayer. Perhaps you have as well. Even scientists have attempted to demonstrate the power of intercessory prayer. In “Prayer Is Good Medicine,” physician Larry Dossey writes: “The vast majority of us pray, and we believe our prayers are answered. We aren’t holding our breath in anticipation of the results of the next double-blind laboratory study on prayer. … Still, prayer, like almost everything else, is being scrutinized by science. … When put to the test in actual experiments in hospitals, clinics, and laboratories, distant prayer does have an effect – in humans and nonhumans, even when the recipient of the prayer is unaware the prayer is being offered.”
We have experienced the power of prayer and not just when we pray for ourselves. We have seen the power of prayer when we pray for others.
As disciples of Jesus Christ, our prayers for others begin as we recognize that Christ prays for us first. We are recipients of prayer. Therefore, our prayers begin not with our words, but with our hearts. To pray is to long for a connection with something bigger than ourselves. It is to recognize that you and I cannot face the world alone. It is to admit that you and I do not have all the answers, all the wisdom, all the grace, all the love, all the care that we need to make it through this day, much less tomorrow, or the day after that. To pray is not to convince God to do something for us. To pray is to change our hearts, to give our hearts, our very selves to God. Or, as William Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas write, “prayer is bending our lives toward God” (in their book, “Lord, Teach Us.”)
As recipients of Christ’s prayer, we find our lives begin to look more like his. And as those whose lives are being bent toward God, we can begin to pray for others. We pray for others because we love them. John Calvin writes: “Our prayer must not be self-centered. It must arise not only because we feel our own need as a burden we must lay upon God, but also because we are so bound up in love for [others] that we feel their need as acutely as our own. To make intercession for [others] is the most powerful and practical way in which we can express our love for them.”
Thus, as Christ has prayed for us, so we pray for one another. In the midst of a hostile world, we ask on their behalf for protection, that not one will be lost and that Christ’s joy might be complete. We pray that others might be sanctified in the truth and recognize that they are sent into the world, just as Christ has sent us.
We model our liturgical prayers on the way that Jesus prays for us. At their baptism and then again at their confirmation, we pray: “Defend, O Lord, your servant N. with your heavenly grace, that she/he/they may continue yours forever, and daily increase in your Holy Spirit more and more, until she/he/they comes to your everlasting kingdom. Amen.”
We offer a similar prayer as we receive new members or commission members for service in the world: “Together, may we live in your Spirit, and so love one another, that we may have the mind of Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom we give honor and glory forever.”
Notice that both of those prayers are not just for the needs of today. Both prayers share a future hope (as does Jesus’ prayer). As we pray these prayers, we find our own lives changed because to pray in this way imparts a responsibility to do our part to fulfill the prayer.
So, on the Sunday before Pentecost, what are you praying for? Before we mark the Holy Spirit bringing the church resurrection power, perhaps we would do well to stop and pray, to experience Christ’s prayer for us and to share that prayer for one another. The time for action and self-sacrifice will soon come. But, for now, as pastor David Lose has written: “Pray. Love. Because Jesus did. For us. All for us and always for us. Which makes it possible for us to do the same for others.”
This week:
- What are you praying for? How does this illuminate the state of your spirit?
- In Acts 1:15-17, 21-26, the disciples chose Mathias to fill the role of apostle abandoned by Judas. What are your particular prayers for the leaders of your congregation or presbytery?
- Psalm 1 describes a sharp distinction between those who follow the way of the Lord and those who are wicked. Jesus’ prayer assumes a sharp distinction between his disciples and the world. How do you respond to these contrasts in ministry or preaching?
- Think about a time when you knew others were praying for you. What made that experience a powerful one?
- A wise mentor once told me that prayers needed hands and feet. How do you think that prayer is connected with faithful action by Jesus’ disciples in the world today?
- On this final Sunday of the season of Easter, how are your prayers bearing witness to the power of Christ’s resurrection?
This week’s lectionary reflection is by Matt Rich, pastor of Unity Presbyterian Church in Fort Mill, South Carolina.
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