7th Sunday of Easter

Easter 7A: Acts 1:6-14; Psalm 68:1-10, 33-36

1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11; John 17:1-11

The Rev'd Margaret Dyer-Chamberlain

May 17, 2026

https://vimeo.com/1194173715

Good morning, St. Aidan’s.

I feel like I’ve been pondering the ascension of Jesus all week, both because I was preparing today’s homily and also because I was part of a joint Lutheran Episcopal Ascension day service at Stanford on Thursday evening. The service, held in beautiful Memorial Church on campus, featured three Bishops, a choir drawn from 9 Lutheran and Episcopal parishes, and a liturgical dancer.  It was pretty glorious, and culminated with one of my favorite hymns – Alleluia, Sing to Jesus…..

Our Gospel from John this morning shares with us a very special moment in the story of Jesus’ ascension.  It’s the moving prayer that Jesus offers to God as he looks up to heaven.  “Father, the hour has come” Jesus says.  It’s final.  Jesus is rising to heaven, and he is not coming back.  He reflects about the work he has done in God’s name.  The work that he has done for all of the people on earth.  “I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do” – Jesus says, and “I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world.”  He talks about eternal life as something that God will give all people, and that they will know God by this eternal life.

And then in the selfless way that is so characteristic of Jesus, at the moment of his resurrection, on the cusp of leaving this world, he prays not for himself but for all of the people of the world – all of us.  He says -  “And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.” 

This is quintessential Jesus, isn’t it – He is praying for our protection, so that we may have unity, and know God.  So that we may know God’s love.  And, by the way, he’s not praying this for some of us – or for the people he knew – or for the people he agreed with – he’s praying for this for everyone.  For every child of God.

This is a sense of love and protection that is hard to get our heads around.  It’s bigger than any human brand of love I can think of.  It’s infinite and its grace-filled and it’s even a little mysterious.  How was Jesus so sure about all of this?  How can we be?  And what are we to do with this kind of love?

I think the other readings we heard today give us some clues.  Because embedded in Jesus’s prayer is his conviction that we have been given his teachings, God’s name has been known to us, and we are to keep God’s word.  We are intended to continue Jesus’ work, in short.  Now, we know that none of us are Jesus – we are imperfect human beings.  But Jesus is calling us to lead with love and to be in this work together.  We have a responsibility to be Jesus’ hands and heart in this world.  In whatever ways we can.

In the first letter of Peter, we are reminded that this world we inhabit is a hard place.  “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you” Peter writes.  This very easily could have been written about 2026, couldn’t it?  Peter’s time was one of marginalization, abuse, suffering and rejection.  Governmental authorities were oppressive.  The similarities with our time are striking. 

Peter reflects further about the pain of the world by writing that “If you are reviled for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the spirit of glory, which is the Spirit of God, is resting on you.”  Well, I don’t know about you, but one of my reactions to this is – could I perhaps say “no thank you” to the part about being reviled?  I like the idea of being of being blessed, but at what cost?  Why?  It all seems fundamentally unfair and unjust.

Of course that’s not really the point – because the point is that no matter what - in the darkest of times, on the worst of days, in the most unfair decisions made by the human world – in all of the struggle and pain - the spirit of God is with us.  Resting on us.  Period.  Full stop. 

And Peter suggests to us that, this being the case, we can rely on God – we can humble ourselves before God, share our anxieties with God, keep alert to evil, be steadfast in faith, and know that God always restores, supports, strengthens and establishes us.   This is a call to pay attention and to stay close to God.

So just how do we do this, in the day to day of life?

I think there are clues in our readings about this also.  Is our reading from the Acts of the Apostles, we hear about the disciples dealing with this crazy experience of watching Jesus ascending to heaven.  They had to have been confused and startled.  Bishop Jeff Johnson from the Lutheran church at the Stanford Ascension Day service on Thursday called this the apostles’ moment of asking themselves – “What is going on here – is Jesus really going to be here today, gone tomorrow?”

And so what did the disciples do?  They took a breath, returned home, together, and they “constantly devoted themselves to prayer.”  I can’t resist a small editorial comment about this passage which is that I find it annoying that all of the male disciples are named, and only at the end are “certain other women, including Mary the mother of Jesus” – mentioned.  Here’s why this upsets me - women were central to Jesus’ ministry and life – and it feels to me that they are being overlooked here.  I’m not sure why – we could probably posit lots of reasons.   And perhaps this reminds us that not everyone is recognized for their quiet, patient, faithful work.  But they do that work anyway.

In my secular world at Stanford, this is the season in which achievements are recognized at the university.  There are award ceremonies, and of course next month graduation.  All of these mark milestones that have been hard-earned.

Awards for particular achievements sometimes, to be honest, have rubbed me a little bit the wrong way.  I “get it” that we want to highlight people who have done wonderful things.  But sometimes it’s also hard to understand what process has identified those folks, why one person gets the award and another doesn’t, how we recognize the hard work of everyone, etc. etc.

We have these kinds of awards in my division – Student Affairs – and 2 years ago there was an award ceremony that kind of changed my mind about some of this.  We offer an “exemplary staff member in Student Affairs” award – it’s our highest honor, and it usually goes to the usual suspects – someone that everyone knows is larger than life and has had a huge impact.  But 2 years ago, the award was different.  It went to a woman I’ll call Jean who works behind the scenes, handling help tickets that students submit about their bill, or course registration, or fees or other administrative issue.  Jean is a person who has thoughtfully, patiently, quietly solved things for students for well over 25 years at Stanford.  Her team nominated her for this award, and when she was announced as the winner, she and the whole team all burst into tears.  I am not making this up.  And numerous people told us that the award that year had new meaning for them as a result.  People said things like “if Jean got this award, maybe it means that some of what I do is seen too.”

I think about this, related to the ascension of Jesus and his prayer to God – because I think the work of faith in our complicated world is often quiet, patient, calm, unrecognized work.  Work like Jean’s in Student Affairs, work like ours here at St. Aidan’s which is bringing to life an incredible new kitchen in support of our ministries.  Much of Jesus’ work was like that too.  He wasn’t in the limelight, he spent time with outcasts and sinners, he didn’t really care what others thought about what he was doing.  He wished for us that we would recognize how we are all bound together as a people, with God watching over us.  As simple as that.

And so, in a complicated world and in our complex lives, today I wish for us that clear and simple message from Jesus from the end of our gospel today, while he is praying to God.  That moment when he said - “And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.” 

May we feel God’s protection, and may we be one, watched over by our ascended savior and friend Jesus. Amen.