Commentators note the frequency of these Jesus monologues in John, and note that they also have repeated themes: the relationship between Jesus and his Father, and the need to believe in Jesus so that we may have eternal life. I have also observed that Jesus uses a lot of “I – language” in John. I am the vine. I am the good shepherd. I am the way, the truth, and the life. I have chosen you. “I – I – I” Guess it’s better than “me –me – me,” but I find this first-person repetition interesting on a couple levels. First, it’s interesting that John seems to have this incredible amount of knowledge about not only what Jesus says to the group, but about what Jesus prays for in private (I can only assume). It makes me wonder if John is the secret journalist of the group going around with his hand-held recorder and taping every time Jesus seems to have something brilliant to say. Or else, with a little more cynicism in mind, John’s gospel is so different from the other three, it makes one wonder how much this biblical writer was making it up as he went along. Certainly, the main themes of scripture are there, love, faith, justice – but was Jesus really this verbose and mystical, or is that John’s interpretation of who Jesus was decades after his death?

Regardless of how those transcripts came into being, John’s testimony is probably the most powerful witness of the four to the inner Jesus. In this gospel, Jesus is telling us, first person, about himself. He tells us who he is, where he comes from, who he belongs to, and ultimately where he’s going. Then he invites us to go along with him. The Jesus of John’s gospel is very Buddha-like, self-aware to a degree that all but a few particularly gifted humans have ever been able to express. John’s Jesus is also intimately connected to his beloved disciples, and at the same time incredibly offensive to those who are disturbed by what he has come to say. He knows his community of followers well, and he knows how to stay unruffled when the nay-sayers come calling. Through John’s eyes we can see how Jesus was the charismatic leader who people still choose to follow today.

Indeed it is through John’s gospel that Jesus tells us, it really is “all about me.” The world comes to be saved, through me. The way, the truth, and the life, that’s me. And no one comes to the Father, except through me. Your relationship with God, your personal salvation – all thanks to me, Me-Me-Me. In some sense, even for the Son of God, it seems, well, rather arrogant at times. But I suspect all powerful leaders have that temptation to contend with. How does one articulate a life-changing, awe-inspiring, God-sent message and still manage to avoid being set up on a pedestal simply for being the bearer of that message?

So the question remains for us. Is it still all about Jesus? Does true faithfulness come only through our unwavering belief in him? Can we really experience unity thanks to this one person who lived way before our time? Is there a profound message for us in how he lived, and died, and rose again – a message that actually unlocks the secret of eternal life for all who come to faith in this one particular way?

I suspect you may be able to guess my answer. For me, it is really all about Jesus. But even as I say that there are some things that have always troubled me in making that statement. For whatever odd and mysterious reason, I actually think that John overheard the sentiments of this prayer correctly. In a way that we human beings have a hard time comprehending, I do trust that Jesus Christ unifies us more than dividing us – though I must admit, it often appears as though it is the other way around. I contend that this is a serious prayer that everyone who hears the Word of God will become one. For Jesus I don’t think this means a shallow, everyone-thinking-the-same-thing kind of message because Jesus prays sincerely that “they may be one, as we [meaning Jesus and his Father] are one.” What troubles me is that I have to look really hard to find evidence for this prayer ever being heard or tended to by God. The unity so desired by Jesus seems to escape us and be an ideal that the Christian community has never really lived up to.

In the broad sweep of history, I don’t have to remind you that religious battles seem to be the worst kind, and being from the same tribe often doesn’t make any difference. Christians have fought other Christians to the death over things we may now find trivial or certainly picky. Even now, Christians of differing opinions frequently have a hard time staying in the same particular church or denomination. In a desire for self-preservation, we find like-minded groups a more comfortable place to be. I’m no different. Working out one’s faith is tough enough. Being in a community that is hostile toward the interpretations of scripture that are my lifeblood or who outright says that some belong and others don’t, and I would belong in the “don’t category” are places that are uncomfortable to say the least. I know eventually I would have a hard time holding out as the lone voice in the wilderness. Nevertheless, even after making my understandings of scripture well known as a Minister of Word and Sacrament who does that sort of thing, what I cannot do is outright dismiss those who find my thinking wrong or who would tell me to my face that I was acting un-Christian. Somehow, in some way, I have to concede that we look to the same Jesus, and that same Jesus is praying for all of us hearing the Word to become one, just as Jesus and the Father are one. It is one of the great mysteries of our faith that Jesus is reconciling the whole world to himself, including his divided and yet beloved church. Jesus is the one who calls us closer and closer to God.

In my way of thinking, I also have to believe that Paul was right too when he said “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” This one particular verse of scripture is where I find my hope for making the faith statement that Jesus Christ is Lord – because it helps me be aware that I really don’t have to understand every problem and paradox in the world. I just have to accept God’s love. The love of God is far bigger than what I understand, so even if I were to try really hard to run as fast and as far as I could away from God, there is no escaping that love. My hard-headedness and hard –heartedness are nothing compared to God’s great love, and that’s a good thing. In fact, that’s a wonderful thing, acknowledged often in our tradition that recognizes the inescapability of sin, and knows intimately all that can go wrong in the divine-human relationship. We have repeatedly acknowledged that we ourselves are sinful and miss the mark, AND that every church, every counsel, every gathering of Christians everywhere is imperfect and will make errors. All along, we’ve hoped for the best – that we will get some of it right some of the time. For that’s the only achievable goal in all of Christendom.

Also troubling for me in claiming “Jesus Christ as Lord” are the age-old questions making a statement of faith raises about the efficacy of such a statement for the purposes of salvation. After all, Jesus proclaims that belief in him is essential –particularly in the reading of John’s gospel. So what can we interpret that to mean for the followers of Christ? If it is true that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord – then we have two recurring problems of interpretation: What do we do about people who don’t seem to believe in Jesus at all? And what do we do with people who say they believe in Jesus completely then turn out to be the kind of people you’d go out of your way to avoid?

First, what do we say about those folks who are from other faith traditions, or who for whatever reason are not inclined to join us for the incredible fun we have each and every Sunday morning by going to church? Are they lost? Some passages of scripture have been interpreted that way to be sure. John’s gospel is a favorite for those whose ultimate desire is to fill the pews and who understand that saving souls is the most important thing we can do. But then, what is it really that’s happening in John’s gospel? Instead of reading “believe in me” as a demand, what if we read it as an invitation? For me John’s gospel is a big invitation, a welcome mat, a life-line to the full and abundant life that never ends. His words stretch out to us from across time to be a spellbinding draw to love God as Jesus loves God, to be one with God as Jesus was one with God. No matter how hard one tries, you can’t force that. You can’t demand it even with the best youth program or most fantastic worship service. That is the Spirit’s work. That is the love of God that cannot be taken away either by our mishaps or circumstances. Would God really be so uncaring as to outright reject those born into another faith tradition? Is God really so hateful toward those who sleep in or spend time with family on Sunday mornings? Now, saying that out loud kind of hurts the church business. We want people to come and be a part of this faith family, but is it so we can look more full and have more money, or is it because we want people to know that here is a place, a faith community in which the Spirit is moving and drawing us closer to God? God never forced love us to love back. Our freedom is as much a gift as that love.

Now I find the other side of this coin the harder one. I’m OK with understanding that God loves Jews, and Muslims, and those who check “none” on the religious surveys. In the great mystery of God, I trust that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life even for those who don’t make particular faith claims about his relationship with God or with humanity. That’s not really the point. What confounds me more are the Christian jerks! I am not as kind-hearted toward those who claim that Jesus Christ is their Lord and then act out in malicious and hurtful ways with their words or with their actions. I don’t want to share the table with them. I don’t want them to be my neighbors when I get to heaven. But I don’t get to choose. Discipline is a tool of the church, but a tool to be used carefully and with great discretion. God loves us when we’re good, and God loves us when we’re bad. And I’ve been on both sides of that equation myself. Maybe there are days that I’m the Christian jerk God loves – so I guess I have to keep trying to see through God’s loving eyes more so than my own.

What can I say? It is all about Jesus – for our faith, for the church, for us collectively, and for each of us individually as we face God’s judgment and are blessed by God’s mercy. Jesus is the one who prays for us. John knew that when he wrote down these monologues. Jesus still prays for us to keep working at unity, to keep trying at love, to deepen our relationship with God so that it’s as intimate as that of Father and Son, Mother and daughter. Jesus Christ is my Lord and my Savior. So as the Father loves the Son, and the Son loves the Father, may our love grow for one another.

Amen.