John 17:20-26 · Jesus Prays for All Believers
That We May All Be One!
John 17:20-26
Sermon
by Frank Ramirez
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In the nineteenth century, most American denominations felt pretty smug that theirs was the real faith. Some might have grudg­ingly admitted that not everyone would be cast into outer darkness for the sin of worshiping in the wrong building. But overall it was a time when theological differences as well as points of practice separated people.

Having said that, some denominations had a lot in common, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Take the Mennonites and the Dunkers, otherwise known as the German Baptist Brethren. The two groups were like peas in a pod. Both wore the plain garb of the plain people. The men wore long beards without any mus­tache, the women wore the prayer covering and bonnet. Their wor­ship and music styles were very similar. They spoke German in the home and in church, though they spoke English with the world at large. As the Civil War approached, both Dunkers and Mennonites who lived in the Shenandoah Valley found themselves the object of scorn and persecution because they remained staunchly against slavery.

Mennonites practiced baptism by pouring. Dunkers dunked new members three times forward in the river. To them the differences, not the similarities, were what mattered.

In 1851, a Mennonite writer named Joseph Funk translated and edited a book written by his grandfather called A Mirror of Baptism. It maintained that pouring or sprinkling was the proper mode of baptism. The Dunkers encouraged the Elder John Kline to reply. He published a sixteen-page pamphlet called A Defense of Baptism, which championed trine immersion.

Debate became heated and even bitter. Funk replied in 1857 with a work called The Reviewer Reviewed, which was also over 300 pages long. Kline responded with the 74 page Strictures and Reply the following year. Funk wrote another even longer book, dripping with acid, which thankfully was never published.

However, in his diary entry of Wednesday, October 8, 1862, Kline wrote,

Got to see my old friend, Joseph Funk, and succeeded in bringing about a better state of feeling on his part toward me. He became reconciled. He had been some­what ruffled in his feelings by my Strictures and Reply to his published writings on baptism and feet washing. Dined with him, then home.1

The timing for reconciliation was apt because within two months, the octogenarian Funk died. Indeed, some wider recon­ciliation was reached, because with the onset of the Civil War both Dunkers and Mennonites found themselves in common danger. Their crops and animals were stolen, they were often imprisoned together, and some were murdered. Indeed, John Kline was assas­sinated in 1864 by Confederate guerillas because he refused to let boundaries prevent him from going about his ministry on both sides of the Mason-Dixon Line.

It's been 149 years since the Civil War, and if nothing else has happened in the interim, Christians have begun to take seriously the prayer of Jesus that we all be one. Jesus prayed, "I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one" (vv. 20-21), yet Christendom was anything but united.

This disunion is anything but new. When Paul wrote to the Corinthian church, he was not writing to a group of believers who gathered in one building and praised God together. He was writing to a confederation of house churches, at least four, who were di­vided in witness and purpose. There was the Paul church, the Peter church, the Apollos church, and the Christ church, each one claim­ing to be better than the others — which is why he wrote, "What I mean is that each of you says, ‘I belong to Paul,' or ‘I belong to Apollos,' or ‘I belong to Cephas,' or ‘I belong to Christ' " (1 Corinthians 1:12). And that is why he had to appeal to his brothers and sisters, "by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose" (1 Corinthians 1:10).

When the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity was begun in 1907 by a group of Anglican friars in the United States, it was hoped that Christians would be drawn into one fellowship. Bound­aries separated Christians from worshiping and serving together. Churches sent out their own groups to the mission field, duplicat­ing each other's work, rather than working together. The same could be said of service projects.

The thing about prayer is — it works. But the other thing is, God answers prayers the way he chooses. Many who worked for Christian unity in the twentieth century argued about what form it would take. Who would write the prayers, what would the people say, what sort of worship would they all share, what would be the organizing principles, what songs would they sing, who would be in charge, where would the offerings be sent, and what name would they go under? It was assumed that churches would lose their iden­tity in one super church.

Well, God answered the prayers of Christians to grant the wish of Jesus, that we might all be one, but God did it without tending to any of the things humans were stressing over. Unity wasn't a mat­ter of the same practice or the same administration, the same struc­ture, or the same style of worship. It wasn't making the people who put their hands in the air put them down by their side, nor did it mean that the ones who like to sit very still had to get up and move around. Church unity had nothing to do with whether you sang in four-part harmony, loved classical music, or sang about nothing but the blood. Church unity had nothing to do with whether you dunked three times forward or once backward, poured, sprinkled, or hosed them down. Christian unity wasn't about grape juice or wine, thin wafers of cookie-like shortbread, or a full meal. It wasn't about projecting choruses on the wall or having no bulle­tin at all.

The unity of Jesus Christ is simply to be found in every church among Christians who proclaim that Jesus Christ is Lord. From the largest communion to the smallest independent fellowship, from the great cathedrals to the humble house churches, we are one body.

And at the heart of it is prayer. It is prayer for each other and prayer that we may be one.

This isn't to minimize the heroes of our Christian faith who have worked for the unity of the body. But we recognize that prayer, as much as our heroes, did the trick. And if we pray to God for unity, we must take our union on God's terms. We cannot outline what we expect God to do. We must wait for wonder.

Prayer changes the world. Prayer changes life.

Now because our unity isn't structural, it means that part of it is invisible. But God doesn't have to be visible to be working. The book of Esther has absolutely no references to God, yet it is clear that God is working out his will for the people. When Mordecai tells Esther that maybe she was made queen "for just such a time as this" (Esther 4:14), he doesn't have to spell it out for us to know that God is at work.

When the churches of a community work together on a food bank rather than running three or four separate ones because they won't work together, when the churches together support the local domestic violence shelter, when they meet together to pray for the schools or worship together on Good Friday, we see that the prayer of Jesus has come true.

Not everyone is convinced. Some take pride in their solitary stance against everyone else. But Jesus willingly laid down his life to complete God's work, so that, as Jesus says, "the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me" (v. 23).

This whole prayer, this long extended plea from the Son to the Father, has been about tying up all the loose ends before Jesus sets about the great task of salvation. This is not about eschatology, the study of last things. It's about taking care of first things, about setting into motion things that were set up at the beginning of time. Jesus has taken care of the power of attorney for his people, so we're taken care of. The Spirit will be with us.

Jesus tells his disciples he will no longer be in the world, but we're going to be in the world. Jesus will willingly lay down his life for his friends to complete God's work, and he is expecting us to do this for each other, to serve not only our little corner of Chris­tianity, but all of Christendom, and beyond that the whole world, so we might also have a part in God's work.

Living as God's people puts us in tension with the world. The prayer of Jesus recognizes this. We are not to retreat from the world, even though we live in a different fashion. Though there is much mystery in his words, some things are clear. We belong to God. We do not belong to ourselves. The church is in the world. The church is the bride of Christ, and this will be made apparent in the future.

Prayer is a lifeline. It sustains us when the ship of life is sink­ing. Isn't the whole point of salvation to rescue us? It's time to jump into the lifeboats — and yet some are arguing about whether we're supposed to sit in the first-class section instead of the third-class. There is no first class or third class in the lifeboat. There are only all of us, dying from sin, sinking fast, and someone is throw­ing us a lifeline. Are you going to refuse it because it's made out of the wrong kind of rope?

Jesus closes this prayer with these words. Listen to them carefully.

Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world. Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them. — John 17:24-26

It is the prayer of Jesus that we be with him also, to see him in his glory and that we have been given to the Lord from before the foundation of the world. There's a hurting world that does not know Jesus yet, but they know about God, and if we live the love of Jesus they will see Jesus clearly. That means we must be known by one name only — that of Jesus. Everything else is just details.

There's a story that a man died and went to heaven and was given a tour by the Angel Gabriel. Everywhere songs were raised in praise and suddenly the harmony that had been hidden in life made sense. The four-part songs and cathedral organs, the guitars and drums, the rustic hymns and African chants, the Latin rhythms, the bells and the carols, the white keys and the black keys, and the tapping feet and the beating hearts all blended together in a har­mony that was never heard on earth but always intended. It all worked together and it was all good.

The man couldn't help but notice that far away, on the edge of heaven, there was a little cabin. Curious, he walked toward it with the angel at his elbow, and looked inside. There, huddling quietly together, on their knees, their hands clasped in prayer, was a group that seemed oblivious to the rest of heaven.

The man turned toward the angel Gabriel with a quizzical ex­pression. Gabriel smiled and explained softly, "They're the Exclu­sive Apostolic Old Order Preservationist Straightaway Cox Wit­nesses of the Apocalyptic Mysteries."

"Why are we whispering?" the man asked.

"Because," Gabriel replied, "they think they're the only ones here." Amen.


1. Benjamin Funk, Life and Labors of Elder John Kline, the Martyr Missionary (Elain, Illinois: Brethren Publishing House, 1990), p. 457.

CSS Publishing Company, Sermons for Sundays in Lent and Easter: You Are Here! , by Frank Ramirez