In your mind, I’d like you to picture a good friend. It may be a current friend or one from the past. Just take a moment, think of a good friend, and picture them in your mind’s eye. Can you see them? When did you first meet them? How did they become a friend?

Let’s leave your friend hanging around for a few minutes; we’ll come back to them later. They are going to help us make sense of the scripture reading this morning.

The passage from John is describing some of the things Jesus said to his disciples as they sat around the Passover seder table, after the meal. He was taking this final opportunity to try to help the disciples understand what was about to happen and to help prepare them for the work they were going to have to do. This is one of those passages that has sometimes created some real confusion for those reading it. In fact, this one passage has caused many people to question their entire faith and has been the reason many people have lost their faith entirely. Let’s take a look, and with a little help from our friend in our mind, see if we can clear up some of the problem.

Jesus was talking about his relationship with the men sitting around the table. Up to this point, the disciples had been in the role of learners, followers, perhaps even servants, following the teaching and direction that Jesus had given them. He began by explaining that everything he had been doing and talking about came down to love. Just as God has loved him, he has loved them. And now, the number one commandment they are to obey is to love one another. While this sounds nice to us, it would have been a bit more impressive to the guys at the table. There was a very long, long list of commandments for a first-century Jewish man to obey. They covered every possible part of life. Each commandment had points and sub-points and included a similar very long list of penalties for those who chose to disobey any particular commandment. The priests also had a long list of steps you had to go through to be forgiven for breaking a commandment, many of which involved a fairly large amount of money to be paid to the temple. Most people spent a significant part of their day trying very hard to not violate any commandments, because for many of them, it was nearly impossible to jump the hurdles necessary to obtain official forgiveness. And without forgiveness, a commandment breaker was seen as unclean, one who could not participate in normal daily activities. So these guys knew about commandments, most of which dealt with everything except love. Love was now the one commandment that counted. This would take some time to figure out.

Jesus complicated things even more by then explaining that, from this point on, by following this one commandment, the men around the table were no longer disciples or servants, but they were Jesus’ friends. “I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends” (v. 15). This was a huge promotion, a major change in the relationship between Jesus and the men at the table. He then said: “And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name” (v. 16).

Wait a minute. God will give us anything we ask for if we ask for it in Jesus’ name? Since we are no longer servants, but we are now Jesus’ friends, he will do this for us? Really?

That’s what John says.

But wait! If Jesus did say that God would give us anything we asked for if we asked for it in his name, then why doesn’t it always work? I’m guessing there are a few of us here who have spoken some very sincere prayers at times, asking for something very important, like the end of an illness, the healing of an injury, the healing of a relationship, a new job, a decent meal. We’ve prayed these things sitting at a hospital bedside, in funeral homes, in rooms at home filled with the dark and quiet that comes after a painful argument, and while watching children who have no food, no bed — nothing.

Based on what John said, if our prayers haven’t been answered, some would argue that it means we’ve not lived up to our part of the deal: to go out and bear fruit. But isn’t that pretty subjective? What kind of fruit? And how much fruit? Some of us have spent a lifetime doing everything we can to bear fruit and love those around us; yet when we ask in Jesus’ name, nothing happens. Some find an answer to this by creating a bunch of rules that have to be followed, promising that they will then result in enough fruit to get your prayers heard. But Jesus didn’t say there were any other rules. Creating new rules is an attempt to find an excuse to explain why the things that John tells us in his writing don’t always happen.

In plain and simple terms, if John says our prayers will be answered if we ask them in Jesus’ name, why aren’t they always answered? If Jesus is a friend, which is the basis for the whole thing, why doesn’t he act like a true friend and keep his promise?

I understand that may sound harsh and something that some might consider inappropriate to hear from a pulpit. But it is a question we have asked many times, and in many cases, it is the question that breaks our faith. God made a promise to answer our prayers, but does not always keep it. What kind of a loving God does that?

Some argue that God does answer every one of our prayers. However, sometimes God answers them in ways we don’t understand, because sometimes God knows there is a better answer than the one we are after. But those experiencing the pain of unanswered prayer might say that’s not what Jesus said. It was pretty clear, wasn’t it? John wrote: “And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name” (v. 16). It doesn’t say, “Unless God has a better answer.” Again, what kind of friend makes a promise like that and refuses to keep it?

To see if we can ease the pain, let’s go back to the beginning and look at the friend you brought into memory when we first started. When I asked you to get an image in mind of your friend, the chances are very good that we actually pictured two different types of friends. This is an important thing to understand, and it may help us as we look again at that promise John tells us that Jesus made.

For some of us, the friend we saw in front of us was someone who was very close to us. There was an intimacy between the two of you, a level of trust and respect that helped you share things you would not be able to share with others. It was someone with whom you spent a lot of time, and even when you were not together, there was something between you that kept the two of you near in your thoughts. This friend became a real part of your life, and in a very real sense, life would just not be the same without them. This friend was a buddy, a pal, an equal with you who shared their lives with you as you shared yours with them. This was a friend who kept promises they made with you, unless it was physically impossible to do. Even then, they did something — they came as close to fulfilling the promise as they could.

Picturing Jesus as this type of friend leads to the problem we find in John’s writing. A true friend would never make a promise that was so vague and difficult to understand, and then not even honor it when we really, really needed them to do so.

But there is another definition of the word friend, and some here may be picturing someone more in line with this meaning of the word. In fact, it is the second meaning of friend that John used as he wrote his story for his readers. To those readers, a friend was not the buddy that we might envision, nor was a friend quite as close and intimate as we have described. The friend that John wrote about, and one who would have been understood by his readers, was not an equal, or even someone you spent much time with. There was a very real relationship but not the one we have pictured so far.

To John’s first-century readers, a friend was someone you knew who was in a position above yours, who knew you and would be willing to use their higher position to help you out at some point when you might need that help. They weren’t a buddy but they were a friend in high places who could accomplish things you might not be able to accomplish, and get things done you could not get done yourself. You didn’t hang out together and probably never shared a meal, but this friend was a connection to something beyond yourself.

You probably have this type of friend as well, even if they weren’t the one who came to mind earlier. Perhaps they are in a higher role at work, have a political position, have a more established place in your career path, or are in some position that has access to abilities that you don’t have.

You might never call them up just to hang out or chat about the weather. You may not pat them on the back when you see them or share your private, personal thoughts with them. But they are there and have offered to do what they can do to help out if you ever need them. They are a friend.

This was the friendship Jesus was describing to the men sitting around the table that evening in Jerusalem, and the one offered again to us. It’s not the warm and fuzzy, good-buddy version of Jesus that we sometimes sing about and see pictured. It is not a Jesus who is our equal, but rather one who has abilities far beyond our own and who has offered to use those abilities to help when we need them, when we pray in his name.

It is also important to realize that if, for example, we have a friend who is in politics and might even work for the president, it does not mean that our friend can do everything for us that the president might be able to do for us. Our friend can do what their name and position will allow them to do. When we ask for something in their name, those limits apply. Could it be that the same thing applies when we pray in Jesus’ name? Could it be that the problem isn’t that we are not heard or that we are ignored, but perhaps some of the things we ask for are things that only God controls? Could it be that Jesus’ role as the Son of God was to reach out to us and offer us all that he offered, still recognizing that some things remain in the hand of God alone? Could this be the reason that sometimes Jesus wept right along with us when the pain became so unbearable?

If we only understand that having Jesus as a friend means he is some kind of a buddy or a pal we can look at as an equal, and the only way he is truly a friend is if he gives us everything we ask from him, we are going to be disappointed and hurt. But if we hear what John wrote was actually describing a different type of friendship, one that might go beyond simply meeting our demands, it might not make full sense or remove all of our pain. But it might give us a glimpse of hope.

And sometimes, a glimpse of hope is enough.