Gloria Dei Lutheran Church

Text: 1 Peter 3:13-22; John 14:15-21

Dear friends in Christ, God’s grace and peace be with you this day.

Hope is a dog in front of an open refrigerator door.

One thing I can depend on in life is that whenever someone is in the kitchen at my house, our dog is right there underfoot. It doesn’t matter if it’s been hours or years since he last got a tasty bite from a dropped piece of food. And it doesn’t matter how small the piece of food is—it’s worth it to him. And each time that refrigerator door opens, he’s right there, hoping this will be a time he gets a treat.

Hope is a tender thing in our reading from John this morning. Jesus is sharing his final words with his disciples in an emotional gathering filled with love, fear and confusion. The action in the Gospel of John has slowed down dramatically. The first 12 chapters in John covered three years…but chapters 13-21 cover only a matter of days. In our reading for today from John 14, Jesus has just washed his disciples’ feet. Judas has fled into the night. Peter has heard that he will deny Jesus three times before dawn. It’s a heavy time. And now, in this intimate and quiet setting, Jesus tells them goodbye.

As an outsider, a reader or hearer, experiencing this moment with Jesus and his disciples almost feels like an intrusion into a private conversation.

It would be easy for the disciples to feel hopeless in this situation; to feel a sense of defeat. Jesus tells them he is leaving them, but before that happens some of them will betray him. Jesus’ words are heavy on their hearts.

Yet Jesus gives them a life-giving promise of presence. He says to them in verse 18, “I will not leave you orphaned.” These are words of comfort, but they also acknowledge the enormity of Jesus’ departure in their lives—Jesus is their center and their guide, and losing him will feel like losing a parent.

They’re distraught at the thought of what will happen to Jesus in the next hours. They’re terrified that they will be victims of the same violence. They need hope.

Jesus tells them goodbye but doesn’t leave them without a future. This feels like the end, but Jesus promises them it is a beginning.

Jesus promises them that the story of faith doesn’t end with the resurrection.

It lives on, through us, centuries later, and this has everything to do with the Spirit. In John’s Gospel, this is the moment Jesus introduces the Spirit. As we near the end of the Easter season in the church, the resurrection already feels like it happened a while ago–yet we look forward with anticipation to the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost—the Spirit that continually moves us forward in faith and hope, even when we have cause for resignation and despair.

John’s Gospel describes the Spirit as an Advocate—a comforter, helper, and intercessor. One who walks alongside us. The disciples will not be orphaned when Jesus departs. The Spirit will be in them, abiding with them. The Spirit will be their constant companion.

And unlike Jesus, the Spirit has no physical constraints. It’s not dealing with the limits of a human body. The Spirit’s ability to be present is never-ending.

One theologian wrote, “Our faith is not a memory of a Jesus who died long ago.” Our faith is current, present, given to us by the Spirit.

This is the hope that Jesus gives to the disciples in this intimate gathering before the arrest and crucifixion, before the resurrection and ascension. The Spirit brings the truth that we may have cause for despair, but we also always have cause for hope.

In recent years, a strange phenomenon has been happening among refugee children in Sweden called resignation syndrome. While their parents apply for asylum, the children struggle to heal from the trauma they’ve experienced. When the asylum process is tenuous and denial seems imminent, some of the refugee children experience a total shutdown of their bodies. They enter a catatonic, coma-like state, sometimes for months or years. They stop talking and walking. Some of them can’t eat and have to be fed through a feeding tube. It’s a form of self-protection that completely shuts them off from the world.

The only cure for resignation syndrome? Hope. Children recover when they experience a prolonged sense of security and protection. Sometimes it takes them years. Yet the only way they get better is through the reassurance that life can be better, that it’s not only filled with violence and trauma. The power of hope literally gives them life.

As faithful people, our call is to live in the space between apathy and despair. Pastor Bradley, Pastor Lois and I, along with several delegates, attended the St. Paul Area Synod Assembly yesterday. The speaker was Dr. Barbara Rossing, a theologian and environmentalist who talked about the climate crisis we’re experiencing. She shared a quote that is often attributed to Augustine, but it’s not proven:

“Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are Anger and Courage. Anger at the way things are, and Courage to see that they do not remain as they are.”

We don’t have the luxury to sit in despair. But there’s an answer to it, and that is action.

Don’t believe the lie that your actions are too small and it’s not worth it to try. Don’t believe the lie that you’re alone in this world. The Spirit of truth and presence is with us in every moment, stirring our anger and giving us courage.

May is Beacon month at Gloria Dei. Beacon Interfaith Housing is a collaborative of congregations united in action to create homes and advance equitable housing. The Beacon Team has at Gloria Dei has partnered with the Mental Health ministry to focus on the connection between mental health and housing. The theme for today is “We Are Not Alone.

Psychological safety and stability is crucial for maintaining good mental health. Frequent moves and unsafe neighborhoods make it difficult to form connections with others and establish routines. It can lead to resignation, defeat, and loss of hope.

Yet as individuals and as a congregation, Gloria Dei is making a difference, and nothing is more powerful than giving someone hope. However you choose to take action and give hope, you matter.

The Spirit intercedes for us, giving us hope when it feels impossible. As the Spirit is our Advocate, so we are called to be advocates for others. The Spirit is our teacher and guide, breathed into our very bodies, abiding with us and giving us hope. Thanks be to God! Amen.