4/9/09

         “No longer do I call you servants, but friends.” 

         Jesus speaks these words to His disciples on the evening before He was to die.  He has gathered them together for one last supper and tries to tell them everything they will need to know about the world, about themselves, about who He is, about who God is. 

         According to John, it takes Jesus four entire chapters to say good-bye --- four chapters filled with instructions, laments, warnings and assurances.  It is as if He is a parent leaving town on a long and dangerous journey, full of love and anxiety for the family He is leaving behind --- full of advice:  Be careful.  Look out after each other.  Do the job I gave you.  And don’t worry about me.  Everything will be alright.  You’ll see. 

         And in the midst of all this, Jesus does something totally unexpected.  He tells His disciples that He sees them as more than servants, more than disciples.  He sees them as His friends, bound together in love and He asks them to love Him as He loves them. 

         It is so poignant – this final farewell -- made even more so by the knowledge that before the night is over each one of these men will desert and deny Him.   Each one will betray Him, and He will be left alone without a friend in the world He is about to save. 

But for now, He calls us out to have a special relationship built upon His love for us and our love for Him.  For God will no longer be somewhere out there, looking down in judgment at all our wrongs and failings, distant and foreboding.  Instead He will be as close as our next breath, loving us no matter what.   

As our friend, God will encourage us by supporting us along life’s way.  He will be that voice that says “Good job!”  “Well done.”  And He will love us in spite of our idiosyncrasies, warts, and faults.  He will forgive us of all our wrongs and help us do the right.   He will be there whenever we need someone to listen to our woes – someone who truly understands and cares – who knows not just what we say but what we leave unsaid as well. 

He will be the One we can be absolutely honest with, baring our very souls.  He will understand our quirks and faults, what makes us laugh and what makes us cry.  He will send us quiet angels who will lift us up when our wings have forgotten how to fly. 

All this is wrapped up in the quiet voice of Jesus saying, “You are my friends.” 

But what can we give in exchange for such extravagant love?  Jesus is clear.  All He asks is that we love in the way He taught us to love, in the way that He loves us. 

He asks that we see others through eyes of understanding and not through an attitude of judgment – that we reach out toward those less fortunate than ourselves.  He asks us to care, to get emotionally involved even with the least of these our sisters and brothers. 

You see all a servant has to do is follow orders, put in their hours, do their work – and then go home, leaving the mess and the worry behind.  A servant can always bail out.  They have the option of saying “Let someone else save the world.  I just work here.”  Being a servant instead of a friend can have a lot of appeal. 

 But Jesus says I need you to be my friend.  I need that commitment to love, to care – to do your very best and not the bare minimum of what has to be done.  He asks us to stay faithful for the long haul even when the going gets tough, when it costs us more than it rewards. 

He asks us to care so much that we get another’s hopes and fears all mixed up with our own, until we want the best for them as much as we want it for ourselves. 

At His last supper, that is who Jesus wants around Him, not slaves who just follow orders --- not servants who do their job and then go home --- but friends, friends who will love Him, no matter what. 

That’s who Christ asks to share this table, this final feast.  So come.  All is made ready.