Jesus Lives, and We will Live Also: A Sermon for 6 Easter

The time had come to say goodbye. Last Saturday, I had the sacred privilege of joining Carole Duncan and Barbara Kaster’s daughter Kimberly as we said goodbye to Barbara as she breathed her last breath. It was a holy time that we experienced with Barbara, and of course, with God, who was palpably present there with us. Thankfully for all of us there, we had the opportunity to experience a good, healthy – albeit teary - goodbye.

Sadly, we are not always given the opportunity to say goodbye when someone we love dies. Tragedy can strike suddenly. And the pain of not having said a last goodbye can remain for a lifetime.

Or, as is the case now during this pandemic, some people are dying alone. I don’t know what would be worse – dying alone, or having someone I love die alone. Either way, the absence of a flesh-and-blood goodbye for the victims of the virus and their families is just heart-wrenching.

So when we are able, it is a sacred, holy, and deeply important privilege to be able to say goodbye to someone we love. And these goodbyes are good, hard, essential work.

Within the parish church context, besides last rites and funerals, another time we are faced with saying difficult goodbyes is when our clergy and lay staff leave, either for a new call or for retirement. Too many times, church staff and their congregations have not done a good job of saying goodbye well, and the effect lingers for both the clergy, staff, and the congregation long after the departure. The importance of making sure that these goodbyes are healthy for all involved is such that a number of books have been written on the subject.

But none of these books are as good at advocating for and modeling a healthy goodbye than Jesus’ Farewell Discourse in the Gospel of John. Spanning the length of four entire chapters– Jesus’ farewell to his disciples takes up one quarter of John’s entire gospel. That is a long goodbye. And that just goes to show how important Jesus felt it was to say goodbye to his disciples. Indeed, the time had come to say goodbye, and not surprisingly, Jesus did it well.

We were introduced to this Farewell Discourse last Sunday, when Jesus began with the comforting words, “Do not let your heart be troubled; have faith in God and have faith in me.” One thing that I find to be remarkable about this discourse is that Jesus, knowing that he was about to be betrayed by one of his very own, and knowing that he was about to suffer a horrific torture and execution, was concerned about the well-being of his disciples. If anyone ever has ever had an excuse to slip out the back door without saying goodbye it would have been Jesus. Yet he wanted to make sure that these betraying and denying friends of his  knew that though he would ultimately leave them to return to his Father in heaven, they would never be alone. So Jesus tells them that he will ask his Father to send them another Advocate – God’s very own Holy Spirit. 

The Greek word that is translated as “advocate” can also be translated as counselor, helper, or comforter. Again - the time had come to say goodbye. And in saying goodbye, Jesus assured the disciples that they would have an Advocate who would guide, comfort, and counsel them in their missionary journeys that would follow. And even when they would eventually die as martyrs for the gospel, they would not die as desolate, comfortless orphans. With the Advocate, they would never live alone, and they would never die alone. 

We must remember that the Advocate – the Holy Spirit – isn’t a living replacement for a dead Jesus. As Easter people, we must always remember that through his resurrection from the dead, Jesus is and always will be alive. The Holy Spirit – the Advocate – the Comforter – is the One through whom we experience the living God here and now. We know this because Jesus said to his disciples, “because I live, you also will live.”  And this line, which I have never really noticed before, just might be what we need to hear most right now.

As a parish church – and as part of the broader Church – most of us didn’t get to say a good, decent “goodbye” on March 15, which happened to be our last Sunday of public worship prior to the pandemic shutdown. We didn’t get to have a four-chapter farewell discourse with one another. And when public worship was temporarily suspended, most of us assumed we’d be back by Easter Sunday.  Yet here we are now, hoping and praying that it might be safe and prudent for us to return on May 31, which just happens to be the Feast of Pentecost.

And the longer we are apart from one another, the longer that we are unable to gather together for worship, the more isolated and alone we are prone to feel. Just as many small – and even very large – businesses are nearing the point of never being able to reopen due to financial hardship, the same goes for many churches. People are afraid. People are heartbroken. People are alone. People are angry. Now more than ever, we need an Advocate; a Counselor; a Helper; a Comforter. We need to know and feel and believe that we are not alone in this crisis. We may be isolated and lonely. But through the power and presence of God’s Holy Spirit, we are never alone. 

How do I know this? Why do I believe this? Because I believe in all my heart that what happened on that Sunday morning after Jesus was crucified is true. I believe that Jesus shattered the chains of death and rose from the dead. I believe that Jesus was alive then and I believe that he is alive today.

“Because I live, you also will live.” This line from the Farewell Discourse – this line that I used to pass right over – is the line that I am leaning most heavily on today, and I invite you to do the same. 

 “Because I live, you also will live.” Jesus is alive. And because Jesus is alive, so are we, and so will we be – now and in the age to come. We are alive, yet for most of us, life has dramatically changed during this pandemic. Some places, things, and even relationships that we treasure might never look or feel the same going forward. Some churches will die. And people are still dying of this virus. 

As such, time has come and will come for us to say some terribly difficult goodbyes. And Jesus has reminded us of the importance of this sacred discipline. 

Our gospel lessons from last week, today, and next week are the comforting story of Jesus reassuring his disciples (and us) that they (and we) - though we will have at some point to say goodbye to people, places, things, and ways of life that we love - will never be alone. We may be isolated and lonely, but we will never be alone. But, when we have the sacred privilege of doing so, we must exercise the discipline of saying our goodbyes in a healthy, intentional way. And we can do so knowing that God’s Advocate will be with us in every moment – the joyful ones and the tearful ones.

Jesus came that we might have life, and have it abundantly. This challenging time has been an opportunity for us to adjust our thinking on what abundant life looks like. But one thing remains constant throughout it all - 

Jesus lives, and we will live also. 

Jesus lives, and we will live also. 

Jesus lives, and we will live also.