I will not leave you Orphaned
Texts: John 14:15-21, 1 Peter 3:13-22
I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you.
I will not leave you orphaned… This line strikes me every time I read this Gospel lesson. It pulls at the heartstrings and attaches itself to one of the deepest fears of many of our lives: being completely alone. The need to have someone there for us, someone who can understand, who can listen, who can care for us is one of the deepest desires of humanity. It’s why we form groups and band together in ideologies. We want to be seen. We want to belong to something greater than ourselves. We don’t want to be orphans, without anyone who cares for us.
We have to be honest and say that sometimes that care doesn’t come from our families of origin. Sometimes it comes from our chosen families. On a day like Mother’s Day, we both recognize the joy of the caregivers in our lives and mourn broken connections that can happen between parents and children. The family unit is so precious yet so fragile. It’s built on love. If the love is warped or broken, it can cause damage sometimes beyond repair.
What is love anyway? What is the love that builds community and families? It is such a simple concept that babies grasp onto it right away, yet it is complex and deepens as we get older. My father was a philosophy major in college and once took a whole seminar focused on trying to define love. I will by no means try to go into that sort of detail in a sermon. You can do your own research if you’re so inclined.
But love is at the deepest level the outpouring of one’s heart for another. We meet the needs of others not because doing so benefits us, save perhaps for feeling good, but because we desire the best for the other person. We want them to flourish and thrive. We will give time, money, energy, sleep, and more for the benefit of the other because we believe they are worth it. In adult relationships like friendships and romantic partnerships, the other is expected to return favors, to do things to help the other person as well, but in a healthy parent-child relationship the parent pours out themselves for the child and the child is not expected to return the favor. Children certainly express their love and learn how to give and share from their parents, but it is understood that they cannot fulfill their parents’ needs. That is not their job. Their job is to be a child.
Jesus over and over again expresses our relationship with God as a healthy parent-child relationship, not as an adult relationship. God pours out God’s own self for us, God wants us to flourish and thrive, but we are not expected to give to God in the same way God gives to us. We are God’s children. We are not called to be God. We are not called to be Jesus. We are called to grow and live into our own selves.
Like children, we are not called to love in the exact same way God loves. We are not called to give everything God gives back to God. We are called to learn and grow in God’s love so that we might be able to share it with others. We give what we are able.
Think about why people desire to become parents. It’s not because they need to do so, in fact plenty of people are not called into parenthood and not everyone who has a baby becomes a parent, some are called to give that child to another to parent through adoption or surrogacy. But some are called to be parents. It is a longing, a deep desire, for a certain type of love. It’s a longing to share oneself with another, to provide the best you possibly can for the next generation. You desire to give them the best you have to offer. It’s a desire to show up for another, to be there for them even when it’s not a great day for you. It’s a belief that mistakes will happen, but that working through the mistakes can make everyone stronger. It’s a hope that those who come after us will be able to do more than we can and a desire to help them grow into those people.
Imagine that desire within God’s heart. Amplify it towards the world. Then hear Jesus’ words again: I will not leave you orphaned.
Jesus had been God on earth for his disciples. A living and breathing manifestation of God’s parental desires for the world. But Jesus was about to die. He knew he wouldn’t be on this planet forever. But there was one who could be here always and has indeed always been here. The Holy Spirit. Just like parents will not always be physically present, but their love and life lessons remain forever, the Holy Spirit is God’s love and God’s teacher who remains forever. We are indeed not orphans, we have a guide and companion who is part of the best parent we could ever have, God.
Our reading from First Peter today reminds us that living into this loving relationship with God is not easy. We may be called to voluntary suffering. This is not the kind of suffering that is absolutely out of our control, that kind of suffering is called abuse. Voluntary suffering is the kind of suffering we choose to endure because of our convictions and beliefs. In a world where Christianity was illegal, many suffered because they believed in Christ. They made defenses for Christ and refused to reject the faith, even if that meant their death. Peter tells us that no one believed Noah and his family when they made the ark and said there would be a great flood. They were harassed for their convictions. Yet, because they believed they were protected by and through the water. So too are we protected by and through the water of baptism, reborn in the assurance that God is our good parent. Even if the world around us rejects us, we are not rejected by God. The Holy Spirit ensures we are never orphans.
We live in a world of great uncertainty. We trust and we hope in God’s goodness, but there is a lot that we don’t know and can’t predict. Our lives can be greatly uprooted by things outside our control. Sometimes disasters strike or situations change overnight and our world changes in a flash. We are not at fault, but everything is different. This is what Jesus was preparing his disciples for. Those moments when we feel lost and confused and broken. He knew they were just about to experience that through his crucifixion. It would radically alter their lives and they would have no clue where to turn or what to do. He tells them that even then, even when God appears to be dead, they can trust in the one who is a good parent to them. They can lean on God. They can be held in God’s arms. The world around them isn’t alright, and they don’t have to fake being alright. Still, they are not orphans. They have access to that love that pours itself out for them, the unconditional love of an exhausted and sleep deprived parent holding their newborn close as they cry, sometimes both of them together, in the wee hours of the morning.
May we hold close to this God who holds us close, parenting and teaching us through the Holy Spirit, desiring nothing more than for us to grow and thrive. May we allow ourselves to be held when we can no longer hold ourselves. May we recognize that love in and around us in all that we do. Amen.
