I have friends who have been married for 40 years and say that they have had a “luxurious life.” They have two married children and five grandchildren who live within a short drive of my friends’ home. They claim it is a luxury to have their whole family so close, especially for holidays, baptisms, first communions, birthdays, etc. But because of a job transfer, their older son and his family are about to move to a faraway state. Everyone is having a hard time and they are trying to keep a stiff upper lip. My friends certainly want what is best for their son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren. But still…
My friend’s son and his wife are promising frequent visits for all the holidays and family celebrations. They also promise regular phone calls and videos of the kids — especially the big events, the grandchildren’s birthdays, confirmations and soccer games.
Everyone is doing the best they can in the circumstances, trying to keep a stiff upper lip. But my friends are finding it very hard. They are a close family and say videos and phone calls are fine — but, “It’s just not going to be the same “ — not like driving a short distance and popping in on them; watching one granddaughter play soccer and the other one star in the school play.
“It’s just not going to be the same,” is what they say. My friend s’ story gives us a sense of what Jesus and his disciples were going through in today’s gospel. They are at the Last Supper and Jesus is saying his goodbye. He is preparing those closest to him, whom he loves and who love him, for his departure. Not just a farewell before going on a short trip, when they will see one another again in a few weeks or months, but a more permanent farewell. He is preparing them for the shock of his violent death and the collapse of their plans for the future. Everything is about to change for them. In my friends’ words, “It’s just not going to be the same.”
To their great surprise Jesus would rise from the dead and they would see him again, at least for a short time. Then, after that, it will be all different: they would see him no longer. They wouldn’t have him physically there with them when they needed to ask for advice as problems arose; or feel his comforting and healing touch when they hurt, or when someone they loved was sick; or hear his voice, speaking words of forgiveness when they needed to be freed from guilt.
Jesus was sensitive to the loss they were about to endure. He was telling them quite clearly, “It’s just not going to be the same.” He certainly knew from first-hand experience their weaknesses. Soon their vulnerabilities and weaknesses would show themselves again in a startling way, when they abandoned him at his arrest. He knew they couldn’t make it on their own, their faith would need help. Their human courage just wasn’t enough to send them out to spread his message after he was gone.
So, Jesus makes a promise to them: help is on the way. The Holy Spirit would come to guide them as they faced new worlds and new issues; be with them when they suffered for what they believed; make them aware of Jesus’ presence even though they could not see, hear, or touch him.
We may be 2000 years away from those disciples around the table with Jesus that night; but we too have experienced loss and need. We have said many goodbyes and experienced big changes in our lives: when a loved one died; when we got sick and couldn’t do what we used to on our own; when we needed to be strong for a another; when we had a financial setback and needed to start all over again; when a relationship shattered.
As we have faced the uncertain future caused by these and other events we have said what my friends said about their impending loss, “It’s just not going to be the same.” And it isn’t. Change is hard for us and life is constantly posing new challenges. So, we admit by coming here week after week, that we need what only God can give us: a renewed life, after a big change in our circumstances; hope that what has ended isn’t the final word from God; strength to stay faithful to Jesus; wisdom to help us maneuver life’s many twists and turns. We want to be faithful to what he says to us in today’s gospel, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments”
Jesus sees and hears our needs, though we can’t see, or hear, or touch him. We believe we have him with us in his word and in this bread and wine, our food for this moment of our lives. We also believe he has kept his promise to us just as he did for his disciples on Pentecost. He has given us his Spirit. The gift of the Holy Spirit makes Jesus present to us. When he was with his disciples he could only be in one place at one time. Now, because of the gift of his Spirit, Jesus is with us in each place and each period of our lives.
As we celebrate his memory again at this Eucharist Jesus is once again giving us his Spirit. God has come to us in the Holy Spirit, has made a permanent dwelling with each of us and guides our struggling church into its uncertain future. Jesus calls the Holy Spirit our “Advocate.” It’s a word that means counselor, consoler and mediator. “Mediator” is perhaps the best translation for the Advocate. The Holy Spirit is the “in-between God” — the force and energy that binds us together with one another and God so we can experience a peace that only God can give.
The Holy Spirit is our assurance that God stands alongside each of us as we face current challenges and any future bumps in the road. That Spirit helps us navigate our personal issues and helps us make future choices, both as individuals and as a church.
My friends are right about their farewells. “It’s just not going to be the same.” But they know we should not box in what God’s Spirit can do for us. The Spirit will surprise us and provide us with exactly what we need when we need it, for Jesus has said, “I will not leave you orphans, I will come to you.”