Readings: Acts 6.1-7 / Psalm 33 (R/v 22) / 1 Peter 2.4-9 / John 14.1-12
Of late, “friendship” has been on my mind.
As I packed up my room, boxed up my books to ship home and said goodbye to my closest Jesuit brothers, I found myself thinking about friendship. My thoughts were a mixture of joy, for the good times shared, and of sadness, for the departures we must make. I oscillated between gratitude, for what our friendships are, and of anxiety, for how they will change.
As I gazed at my friends’ familiar smiles and savoured the timbre of their voices one final time, and as we shared one last hug, I acknowledged that the moment to let go had come. To let go of them—and today, of you too—with whom I have woven histories with. To let go of those with whom I have knitted together our stories of faith and life in Jesus in these my Boston years. Yes, the time has come to say goodbye and to move on.
Truth be told, I find it difficult to say goodbye. But I found some consolation in poetry, as I always do. In particular, I found it in this quote from the Irish poet, W.B. Yeats: “Friendship is all house I have.” Yeats wrote this line in February 1909 when he grappled with the death of a close friend. His quote—which interestingly is in the present tense—does not speak about loss or farewell. Rather, it speaks to me of always being embraced in friendship's warmth. Though they were no longer physically present to one another, their friendship continued to be, for Yeats, his dwelling place.
In today’s gospel passage, we hear an echo of this reality of friendship as a dwelling place. We hear it in Jesus’ hope-filled message to his disciples that friendship with him leads one to the Father’s house. More beautifully, it leads one to dwelling in this house of God, where is always room for everyone.
This house is not a future dwelling place the disciples have to wait for. Nor, is it a place or destination they have to anticipate arriving at in some distant future. Rather, they are already dwelling in God’s house. Jesus—who is one with the Father, who is dwelling in the Father, as the Father dwells in him—says to them that where he is, there also they will be, and where he is going, they know the way.
Jesus’ message must have been consoling to the disciples. They had been hearing Jesus bid them farewell as they shared their last supper. Their hearts were probably troubled that he was about to leave them and to be put to death. A death for their salvation, and for our salvation too. He quieted their aching hearts by speaking of God’s house; he calmed their anxious spirits by assuring them that there is always abundant accommodation in God’s house. In contrast to the birth of Jesus when there was no room at the earthly inn, Jesus promises that the Father’s heavenly inn will never be too full; there will be always room for one and all, saint and sinner alike.
This house is also far more than a guesthouse; the Father’s house is home. It is the place the prodigal son returns to when he comes to his senses; coming home, he is not only forgiven but he is also welcomed back, embraced as his father’s own and given back his dignity as the son. This place, God’s house, is where you and I long to return to when we are homeless and heartsore. And yes, this is where our earthly pilgrimage will certaintly end at.
How will we get there? Through Jesus; with Jesus; in Jesus. He is the shepherd and the gate from last week’s gospel who will make sure that everything and everyone will be brought “back home” to the Father. This is his assurance to Thomas: to follow him is follow him to the Father’s house. This is his pledge to Philip: to walk with him is to come to know who God really is and what God really does: God loves us to save us so that we can live with him fully and happily, now and always.
This is why Jesus is for all peoples the way to God, and the truth and the life that they are God’s own. Indeed, in God’s mercy and love, coming home to God and being one with God is what Jesus’ death and resurrection has gained for us. Coming home and dwelling with God is another way to celebrate what Easter is about.
Today we have the example of Jesus handing on to us this good news: we will always be welcomed into the Father’s home. Jesus hands this on because we are his friends. This good news is what the apostles—Jesus first friends—in turn, handed on to us in the Gospels and through the Church’s teaching and tradition. They did not interpret, teach or proclaim this good news of God’s house as our dwelling place using theology or philosophy. Rather, they could do this because of their intimate friendship with Jesus. With the apostles, we learn that to know Jesus is always to know the Father.
Friendship with Jesus is what you and I are also called to hand on to one another as friends. We can do this because we already have the gift of Jesus’ friendship. We did not choose him as friend; rather, he has already chosen us as his friends. And he has etched onto our hearts his name—Christian, one like Christ—and so, claimed us as his own forever.
The goodness of our individual friendships with Jesus does not come alive, however, until we can hand on the gift of Jesus in our lives to someone else. Then, we make real for them and for ourselves, that Jesus's good company with us leads us to no other place but God’s house. And he does not just lead us there; he also welcomes into God's house to dwell, to rest, and to have life to the full. It might be good, then, for us as a community of friends in the Lord to ask ourselves, now and again: "Am I handing on Jesus’ friendship to another? Am I doing this enough and well?"
I believe we have done this for each other here in this place and over these months together. Instead of doing this with theology or teaching, we have done this by living out our friendship with Jesus with each other in small and big ways. Like Jesus: we have reached out to one another; we have welcomed all; we have accepted each other in spite of our limitations and faults; and we have exchanged peace with a handshake, a smile or a hug. And like Jesus, we have generously shared our life of faith in God with simple, life-giving words and warm affection.
I’d like to suggest that it is in sharing Jesus’ friendship that you and I can draw strength and hope to recognize that goodbyes do not lead to forgetfulness and loss. Rather, in Jesus, friends remain friends. This is because they will abide together in him who is always with us, even to the end of time (Matthew 28:20).
Indeed, with Jesus, friends—like you and me—live in no other place but God’s house. Here, they will always be sheltered in life-giving love. Here, they will find safe harbor in difficult times. Here, they can always rest their weary hearts. Here, they will learn again and again the fundamental lessons of life and faith whenever they are confused or disobedient.
And yes, it is here, in God’s house, that friends will find the source, the reason and the joy to be in friendship all the days of their lives.
Indeed, with Jesus as our friend, how can our friendships with one another not be on our minds and in our hearts always?
Preached at Blessed Mother of Teresa of Calcutta, Dorchester, Boston
photo: from the internet
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