When John’s book was written, five generations had passed since the young rabbi taught. What stories would be remembered? His words and movements echoed still, like a bronze bowl singing as the wooden striker makes sweeping arcs around its rim.
Jesus is praying to his Love, the Friend who’s heart beats within him, on behalf of his friends.* It is his last communal prayer, and it shows. He knows that the work must continue, and that it’s soon going to be out of his hands. The message that he has lived has been the brightest display of the heart of God that they had ever seen. He pines for them to see and feel their own shine, finally discovering the secret that each of them are burning like little suns.
He prays as if he’s staring into a mirror, aware that his light comes from the One who holds up, and is, the mirror. ‘Has the Radiance been seared onto their hearts? Do they feel your splendor like I do?’ Ones’ eyes cannot see it fully, only in reflection. It is through that gaze that Spirit comes. A love greater than institutions, religions, or careful descriptions recorded in books. It cannot be known, only felt, like the shining of the sun.
In the mountains of West Virginia, over a decade ago, I joined a group of men for a rites of passage event. It was there, in my dark crucible, that I felt divine light in a way unexpected. It rained for the first three days. Hard. It was early fall, and everything was more clammy than cold, which made my bones and heart ache. Late on the fourth day, a day we had spent in silence, brother sun finally broke through. The earliest and brightest disciple, wed to this great mother of ours, made all that wet green sparkle and shine. Nature, the first scripture, tells us that this light we feel, is felt because it burns within us.
Drawn to the open field, like sheep to a shepherd, we all sat facing this magnificent light as it moved along that slow, sweeping arc through the late afternoon sky. There had never been a more glorious day. Sitting in silence, jackets tied around our waists… happy little buddhas at the shrine of our lives. Quietly, reverently, braided and branded by the light and its warmth, we were doing our work together, staring into the same mirror, seeing the very same face.
*John 17:1-19 (The Message)
–Jim Marsh, Jr., Bread of Life Church
