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7 Easter - John 17:1-11

Toward the end of May, I recall a point lost in November of 1863.

President Abraham Lincoln stood on a battle-field in Pennsylvania and said,

We can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground.

The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract.

The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.

The world, of course, forgot the soldiers' names and valor and stories and instead remembered

the president's words, which continued:

It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought

here have thus far so nobly advanced.

It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in

vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

This and every Memorial Day, we honor those who have given "the last full measure of

devotion," at Gettysburg and around the globe, across centuries and oceans, to protect and advance the American cause of freedom, the meaning of which, thanks to them, we

continue to enjoy the privilege of arguing about.

There are resonances, and also differences, in the words of Jesus.

He is not obsessed with freedom like we are, nor drunk on individualism.

He would wear his face mask and stay home to worship, not because he's a lemming who forfeits

his rights to obey invasive government—no one like that ends up crucified—but

because he values his neighbors.

Like the fallen heroes we honor, he is willing to lay down his life to save others.

And the night before he does, his concern is for them.

Today's gospel is the first part of his lengthy and poignant payer for the disciples he is leaving

behind.

There remains work for them, the living, to do in the difficult, dangerous world, which will not

understand or appreciate or support them.

Jesus' lifestyle of self-giving, other-centered love is not a shared cultural value; it is usually met with confusion, suspicion, skepticism, and resistance.

He won't be there to help and guide and see and touch and hold them anymore.

Maybe you can relate.


Who do you want to hug right now that you can't?

Whose precious hand do you wish you could hold?

Now that you are separated, what do you pray for them?

What do you ask the Father to do for them that you cannot?


Jesus asks for protection, connection, and distinctness.

Protect them in your name...protect them from the evil one: protect who and whose they

truly are – don't lose them, Dad.

Protect their connection to you, to me, and to each other: that they may be one, as we are one,