We're the Gift?

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/051216.cfm

Acts 22:30, 23:6-11
John 17:20-26

Father, they are your gift to me.
I wish that where I am they also may be with me,
that they may see my glory that you gave me,
because you loved me before the foundation of the world.
Righteous Father, the world also does not know you,
but I know you, and they know that you sent me.
I made known to them your name and I will make it known,
that the love with which you loved me
may be in them and I in them.

Intimate conversations do not make their way into the public forum very often. We catch the glimpses of kind words shared through smiles, hands gripping hands, arm in arm friends, and even kisses. Good movies portray yearning and found love in full discourse, but actors only simulate what we experience where cameras and microphones seldom go.

The moving intimacy of people in love, parents who love their children, and friends who greet each other seem reserved for special moments in time. We see this mostly at airports, family reunions, birthdays, wine and cheese parties, and coffee shops. If we watch special folks for a while, we’ll notice a steady flow of such intimate connections. They float through mundane particles of time and explode them into reunions and parties. These are the saints, right? Saints emit a fabulous attraction, unreserved, apparently available to everyone they meet. We secretly hope that such a person would turn to us and feel that same intimacy in our face. We wish their open heart would draw out our hidden hearts. 

Jesus must have had the world of those eager for intimacy magnetized. Who could take their eyes off of him? And yet, Jesus operated in a small circle of the world, a dot in the universe. He took intimacy seriously, according to John’s verses. And now, he wants everyone to be drawn to him in order that they would know the Father. Jesus wants to be so intimate as to literally be inside of each of us. 

What emotions fill these words? Did he shout any of them, or was he deep in thought, mouthing out the intensity of his love as a mantra for us to repeat?

The reporter in me has already been convinced of the veracity of John’s scriptures. I do not have doubts or skepticism about God’s voice in the holy texts. I do have questions, though. Where did John capture this scene of Jesus communicating with the Father? We can only imagine it, which is exactly what God wants us to do, I believe. 

Perhaps John was leaning into the corner of a wall while Jesus spoke earnestly, yearning and longing for the permanent and eternal gift of the friendship of not just these disciples but all of creation, a brotherhood of men and women that he knew was waiting for him in heaven. 

Or, rather, Jesus sat quietly in the midst of a gathering. Watching the people he cared for Jesus’ heart burst with love for his friends. He whispered his prayer to the Father, just so John could hear. 

Maybe, like so many of our dear friends whom we know will recall the details of any of our many conversations, John had that innate ability, surely reserved only for the discrete and empathatic. He could rewind to any moment in his life and relive a moment, an hour, or an entire day.

Some believe John’s affinity came from visions, constant episodes of divine interactions seared into the recesses of his gray matter. His gift was not a reward, I propose, but a common result of intimacy itself. Both the kept memories that God assures we will never forget, and the delightful intercourse of being loved by both the author of the universe, and it’s eager gathering of companions.

Intimacy forms us by taking the solid chunks of truth and applying the mortar of physical love. We are built into spiritual forces of nature by love and truth through intimacy.

Without these delightful words from Jesus we would still know that we are loved. And yet, God wants us to know the depth of that yearning that Jesus and the Father share. “They are your gift to me.”

Dear God. Can that be true? We are a gift from the Father to the Son? Each in our own wrapping, none of us seem worthy to be such a gift. Parents know that is not true. We’ve held the packages of such gifts that grow with uncontrollable ferocity, a mix of fearless delight and cautious frailty, right there in our arms. 

Nonetheless, most of us would describe ourselves as a hasty offering, folded in newspaper, or handed over in a plastic grocery bag, if we were to describe it. Few of us would see our packaging as finely fitted and fashionably ribboned handiwork. But, wouldn’t the Father deliver us to his Son in just that sort of a way? Beautiful and fantastic.

Jesus would open each of us carefully, gleefully treasuring what he found even before he had unwrapped our covering. He would caress our skin, kiss our forehead, and then enfold us into himself. I’m sure he will have to lightly peel away our hands from our faces, almost cooing at us to let go of our fear, convincing us to disregard our shameful appearance.

I would think that each of us as gifts from God can only be eternal. We will last longer than the time that has passed since the foundation of time itself, multiplied by infinity. God’s gifts are permanent.

Being one with God will not allow any division. All skepticism will melt away from the heat of truth. God is truth itself. Anger will have no place. God is one, in three persons. That “mystery” should convince us that our personhood will remain intact. God didn’t need to improve on himself, or grow himself. Rather, he extends himself into us, drawing us to him, and populating love.
We still will be us, not absorbed as some would say, but affirmed, claimed according to a certain friendship, as unique children of the Father.

To be one means to gather, I’m sure. Gift wrapped, but not like a box of chocolates to be eaten. Not like a loaf of ground down seeds to be munched into God’s stomach. Our existence will not just be remembered by God as John remembers Jesus’ prayer, but with Jesus, taking up space without the constraints of time.

We will gather, eat together, play and …. Well, that’s the part we get to look forward to. Where Jesus is, we will also be.
Magnetically attracted without an opposite pole, anymore. 

Connected up, without frayed wiring, leaky pipes, or contaminated blood or water. No locks or inner circles or outer banks.
Loved from the inside out, arms outstretched to reach out to each other without walls.

Sounds pretty darn good.