Benediction
John 17
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The final assignment of my Intro to Pastoral Care course was a letter based on The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. Write to a loved one and offer them the things that you would want them to know before your passing. I wrote to my children, three and one at the time, and I agonized over every word. I drafted and deleted, eyes brimming with tears, heart swelling with questions. How could I possibly say everything? How could this letter make up for my absence, even if it filled volumes? One question rose to the surface: will they know how completely I love them?
That question became the backbone of my letter. Though some of the details are long outdated, the core of it is as true as it was when I first wrote it. I encouraged my children to love one another, to remain united as “the only members of an exclusive club with [the] particular shared memory” of who they are, whose they are, and where they come from. I reassured them that “God not only walks with us in our suffering; God has been to the darkest places so she can find us there and lead us out.” Every one of the “weighty things” I offered my children in that letter is refined in the fullness of my love for them.
On this Holy Wednesday, I cannot help but feel a greater kinship with Jesus as he prepares the disciples for the parting that awaits them. They have endured weighty things in their walk together; Jesus has “watched over them… kept them safe… gave your word to them… sent them into the world” to proclaim the Word that challenges every system of oppression and domination keeping God’s children from the wholeness of God’s kin(g)dom (John 17:12, 14, 18, CEB). The disciples, too, are the bearers of a particular shared memory—anchored in the person of Jesus and the promise of all he has come to do.
While I find that John’s Jesus leans more “fully God” than “fully man,” his prayer in John 17 puts his humanity on refreshing display. He lifts his eyes, looking out and beyond, his beating heart swelling with familiar questions. Will they understand? Will they remember my promises? Will they know how completely I love them?
So, Jesus prays the story of his love lived out, giving the words to his companions even as he addresses the divine Parent. When he prays, “I have been glorified in them” (John 17:10b), it’s as if he takes each one by the shoulders and says, “I am so proud of you.” He doesn’t stop there, however, but simultaneously petitions and admonishes, “I pray they will be one…” as Jesus is one with the divine Parent—as Jesus is one with them—so that all may be one—I in You, You in Me. (17:21) Their unity is the completion of the love that God has poured out on them.
In the waning hours of the Incarnation, with the specter of the cross looming in its terrible beauty, Jesus offers a benediction of hope. He petitions that the disciples will trust in what they have seen and heard, not a plea of desperation but an expression of the trust he has in them. Everything that can be said, has been said; now, only love remains.
That love reaches out to us from the text, across time, space, and circumstance to embrace us as it embraced those who first heard these words. We need them now more than ever, even as they read like a list of how we’ve fallen short. We are not one in each other or in God. We are not holy in the truth. We are certainly not safe from evil, whether we perpetrate it or fall victim to it or simply stand to the side and wring our hands in its wake. And Jesus remains one in us. He continues to be glorified in us. He faced the shadows headlong on that first journey to the cross; he faces them with us now as we stare it down once more. And he reminds us that the worst things are not the last things. Thanks be to God.
Reverend Shannon V. Pitorak is an ordained Elder in the East Ohio Conference of the United
Methodist Church. She earned her Master of Divinity from MTSO, where she was blessed to
first engage with the WomanPreach! program. Rev. Pitorak currently serves Church Hill and
Trinity UMCs in the Youngstown area, where she advocates for the church to follow Jesus
into the margins. Outside the pulpit you may find her reading, writing, or spending time with
her husband Jimmy and their four beautiful children.