Reflections of Jesus’ Prayer for Oneness of his Followers

I originally wrote this as a series of replies in a Facebook thread that I started with my reflections on John 17:20-26. As that developed, I thought I’d compile them into a single document. I even considered doing a rewrite to make for a more coherent flow. But I decided to let them stand and related but unconnected elements in a sort of verbal mosaic. I am posting to my Pilgrim Path blog, but do not intend to link back to FB or Twitter, even though they started in the more public arena of FB.

A conundrum I have been pondering in my lectio divina on the lectionary readings for this coming Sunday is Jesus' prayer that all of his followers (the succeeding generations are definitely included in v. 20) would be one as he and the Father are one in John 17:20-26. Recognizing that we who follow Jesus are anything but one does not take a genius. I am not troubled by variations in theology or ecclesiology. Those can easily be seen as many rich colors in a single tapestry. What troubles me is how readily one color (to maintain the tapestry metaphor) discounts another color as not belonging in the tapestry and how virulent those conflicts can become, even to the point of one group of "Christians" killing other "Christians" in the name of Christ when they get the power to do so. To be sure, this has happened plenty in history, and while "Christians" executing other "Christians" may not seem as common today, the rhetoric of rejection is certainly loud. My pondering here, however, is not so much about how we who follow Jesus handle our disagreements as it is about what was going on in Jesus' prayer for our oneness. Has that prayer not been answered? It seems to me that postponing the answer to the eschaton is a denial of Jesus appeal that the world would recognize him in the oneness of his followers. May we - you and I - be impediments to the Father answering the prayer of the Son? What did Jesus expect when he prayed this? I'm not expecting to resolve this in either my meditations this week or in responses to this post, only to try to get in tune with Jesus' prayer myself. If anyone else feels drawn into Jesus' prayer, how is that emerging within you?

I am not content to dismiss the powerful implications of Jesus' prayer for the oneness of his followers by spiritualizing it or putting it on hold until the last day, though both the mystical and future dimensions are important. But if we stay there we become practical Gnostics denying the creation reality in which God placed us. I don't have an easy formula, but somehow I pray and look for opportunities to at least begin to live into that oneness with other Christians who are not like me. Sometimes those differences are ethnic and cultural. Sometimes they are theological and ecclesiastical. I played a very small role in helping some Anabaptists connect with Catholic bishops after Germany reunited and travel to the former East where their movement originated became possible. The Anabaptists wanted to apologize and ask forgiveness for slandering and not always telling the truth about the Catholic Church. When the bishops received this small delegation, they replied in kind by saying that while the spiritual ancestors of the Anabaptists had indeed not always spoken with truth and kindness, the spiritual ancestors of the bishops were executing Anabaptists. With mutual prayer and a bit of good humor came just a bit of the taste of oneness in Jesus. The Anabaptists went on being Anabaptists and the bishops went on being Catholic, but they acknowledged their mutual kinship in Jesus. I have benefited from fleeting experiences like this and hunger for them to become more common.

When I was at Wheaton Graduate School in the early 70s Jim Engle and Will Norton worked together on mission/evangelism. I think they did it together (or maybe just Jim Engle) wrote a book "What's Gone Wrong with the Harvest?" That book and conversations with both of them at the time came to mind as I reflected on Jesus' prayer in John 17. Verse 21 says, "they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me." and verse 23 says, "they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me." Not offering any specific answers, only raising a question for pondering. Could it be that what has gone wrong with the harvest is that we who follow Jesus are not one with each other, with him, or with the Father as Jesus prayed we would be? Besides all the implications for us which I have not fully explored, what are the implications about how God answers any/all prayers and particularly this prayer of Jesus? Only exploring not preaching. Please!

After posting my last reflection on Jesus’ prayer for oneness among his followers, I sat on the porch with my afternoon tea and cookies. Jesus’ concern that the world would know him and believe he came from the Father because of the oneness of his followers took my mind in a different direction. I’m not going to vouch for the logical connection, only pursue these ruminations.

Since at least the Enlightenment, the arguments for atheism have largely been empirical and logical. The answers of the whole range of theist apologists, not just Christians, have generally ranged from some version of Romans 1:19-20. “What can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. Ever since the creation of the world his eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made.” And ranged to some variation of Pascal’s Wager – better to believe and be wrong than not believe and be wrong. I know a lot more is going on than that, but this will serve to make the contrast with the arguments for atheism that are gaining traction in our time.

Those arguments are basically ethical. That so much violence, injustice, suffering is and has been promulgated in the name of religion and God (even in the name of Christ as contradictory as that should seem) that we humans would be better off without God and without religion. This is the essential core of John Lennon’s song “Imagine” that has become the anthem of this generation. Pointing out that that is not what Jesus (or choose your own favorite religion founder) taught or lived does not change the argument that those who claim to believe in God have been rampant purveyors of violent hatred. Pointing out even dramatic exceptions does not ameliorate this history and contemporary realities.

Given the nature of this trend, citing examples of any and all good that has been done and is being done by any and all believers in God is counterproductive. Keeping score of good vs. bad is a losing endeavor, and getting offended that such arguments are rejected only reinforces writing off religion/God as a negative force. Again, I don’t have a nice packaged answer, but I do believe we who recognize the core of divine love (though I speak as a Christian, I don’t think that is limited to Christianity), can and must do better at living that love into the daily realities of our world. My pondering here is not about comparing Jesus and other religious leaders or movements. That may be a worthwhile endeavor but goes in a different direction than positing a theism that responds effectively to ethical atheism.

Again, speaking specifically as one who trusts and aspires to follow Jesus, I believe his teaching to love our enemies (Matthew 5:43-48; Luke 6:27-35 and affirmed by the Apostle Paul Romans 12:17-21) may be an effective response to ethical atheism. Not in the sense of that is what Jesus taught us to do, but in the sense that people will observe and recognize that is what is actually happening in our human relationships. This is amazingly challenging. How do I love someone who is bent on harming or even killing me? Yet, I believe that is what this demands.

Once again, I am exploring and welcome fellow ponders, but I will not engage in arguments about why ethical (or other) atheists are wrong. Rather I welcome exploration of how we can live in ways that those who reject believing in God will recognize the love of God even in the face of all the evil people have done in the name of God over the centuries.

Though I was young at the time, I remember church discussions about degrees of separation that were presumed to be based on passages such as 2 Corinthians 6:17. “Come out from them, and be separate from them.” First degree separation was not sharing Christian fellowship with someone whose theology regarded as suspect. Second decree separation was not sharing Christian fellowship with someone who fellowshipped with someone whose theology was regarded a suspect (even if theirs was considered acceptable). My sense is that the people of the congregation in which I grew up – solidly evangelical Baptists – were aware of these discussions but did not consider them particularly relevant to us.

I do recall that when Billy Graham came to San Francisco in 1958 some preachers in the area objected that he allowed “liberals” to sit on the platform with him. The people of my church participated in that crusade with some enthusiasm and dismissed the complainers out of hand.

This memory came back to me today as I have continued to contemplate Jesus’ prayer that succeeding generations of his followers would be one with each other and with him as he was with the Father. My lunch conversation with some friends of Spirit of Peace Lutheran Church (Milwaukee) prompted me to frame the question from the other way around.

How can I express and experience oneness in Christ with those who exclude me from their circle of acceptable doctrine, while I definitely include them as fellow disciples of Jesus, despite significant disagreements?

I am pondering how Edwin Markham’s (1852-1940) poem “Outwitted” might help me sort this out. It was often referred to among Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) folk as expressing how Christian unity was their “polar star.” (Barton Stone) It seems to express the sentiment. Now to translate that into relational reality.

He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him In!