All Saints’, Dorval
Easter VII, Year C
June 1, 2025
Photo: Kids4Peace
Today is the seventh Sunday of Easter, which means that this past Thursday was the Feast of the Ascension. And this Sunday has also been designated as “Jerusalem and the Holy Land Sunday,” an annual observance that reminds us of our ongoing partnership with Anglicans and Lutherans in the Holy Land, and is particularly poignant this year in the light of the ongoing catastrophe in Gaza.
That’s a lot of weighty themes to hold in one sermon!
The gospel reading from John gives us a good place to start, though. Once again we have heard a passage from Jesus’ Farewell Discourse – the several chapters of his speech to the disciples at the Last Supper – this time from the final portion, known as the High Priestly Prayer.
The glory that you have given me I have given them … that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. 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.
In the First Nations Version of the New Testament, the word here translated “glory” is rendered as “beauty,” an interesting and enlightening choice.
The beauty you gave to me I have given to them. … In the same way you are in me, I will be in them, beautifully joined together as one. … O Great Father, I want the ones you have given to me to share this place of beauty that I have with you, so they can see the power of your love for me …
It can be hard to understand what Jesus means by “glory”, but “beauty” is something we can get our minds around.
In either case, though, when Jesus prays for his followers to receive the glory that he has received from the Father, he is making a reference to the image of God found in human beings. Jesus has been sent into the world to restore that image – its beauty and its glory – through his teaching, his miracles, and his death and resurrection. We humans had tarnished God’s image in us through our sin, but through Jesus it can be brought back, even better than before.
God has come down to earth in Jesus to bring God’s glory down to us, but when God in Jesus returns to God the Father by ascending into heaven – the feast that we celebrated on Thursday – Jesus brings us, in all our humanity, back to the right hand of God. Jesus doesn’t leave his human body behind. He brings is right into the presence of God. How extraordinary – how beautiful. And what an affirmation of God’s very image in us.
And these words and actions of Jesus teach us, in turn, to seek and to see God’s image in each other, and God’s hand at work in the world.
It can be very hard to see God’s image and God’s hand in a situation like the current state of the Holy Land. But we owe it to ourselves and to the people of that beautiful and fractured land, to try.
When I think of seeing as God sees, I am reminded that most people, consciously or not, think in pictures. And so much of our worldview, and thus our actions, are shaped by what we think about the pictures that we see with our eyes and that we create with our minds. Are we thinking about those pictures the way God wants us to think? Are we doing our best to see God’s image in human beings, and God’s hand in all of creation?
To take a look at the Acts reading – when we see an enslaved teenager ranting about demons, do we see someone we can exploit to make money? Or someone who’s just incredibly annoying? Or do we see a child of God who needs to be delivered from her burden?
When we see a jail full of prisoners, do we think “Good riddance, glad this rubbish is off the streets”? Or do we see a group of people with fundamental dignity and a message to offer to the world?
When we see someone who’s elderly and frail, do we think, “That person is dull and has outlived their usefulness”, or do we think, “That person has lived a rich life full of unique memories and has accumulated remarkable wisdom”?
When we see a child who’s dirty or crying or acting up in public, do we think, “That kid has terrible parents and will never amount to anything,” or do we remember our own less presentable parenting moments, sympathize with little people coping with big feelings, and remind ourselves, as my mother says, that a dirty kid is a happy kid?
When we see an Indigenous person sleeping under the overhang outside the metro station, surrounded by piles of belongings and giving off a powerful odor, do we assume that their situation is their fault because they must do drugs? Or do we recognize that that situation is the inevitable consequence of generations of trauma, and a society that prioritizes corporate profits over guaranteeing dignity and security for all?
When we see our neighbour relaxing and sipping a cold drink next to a lawn that’s a foot high and full of dandelion seedheads, do we report them to the homeowners’ association, or do we congratulate them on their excellent self-care and on observing No-Mow May for the sake of pollinators and other wild creatures?
When we see a picture of a tall person with facial hair wearing a dress and makeup, do we think “ew, gross,” or do we wish her well on her journey of self-discovery and transition?
And when we see a picture of people in the Holy Land, do we think – consciously or unconsciously – that all that anyone ever does in that region is blow each other up, or do we recognize both Israelis and Palestinians as full, complex, flawed, hopeful human beings, with their own histories and dreams and aspirations, who must continue to work for peace in the face of the cynicism and brutality of their leaders?
All of us bear the image of God, in all its potential for beauty and glory. None of us are perfect, but neither are any of us beyond the scope of God’s care and concern. Jesus prays earnestly that we may all be one.
Jesus has ascended into heaven in order to bring humanity in all its fullness into the presence of God. May we, by how we see, and think, and act, show the world the beauty and glory of God’s love for every single suffering, striving, beloved human.
I close with a prayer written for this occasion by former Primate Fred Hiltz:
O God, we give thanks that your dear Son has gathered us in the embrace of his redeeming love and sent us to make that love known to the ends of the earth.
We pray your continued blessings on the steadfast witness of the Church in Jerusalem and throughout the Middle East.
Give your deep joy to those who welcome the pilgrims seeking to know this land and its many peoples.
Grace those who proclaim the Gospel.
Guide all who teach a new generation of young people.
Draw near to those who are sick and bless those who tend them.
Sustain the hope in all who long and labour for a just and lasting peace in the land of The Holy One.
And may the companions of Jerusalem be many and faithful.
We pray in the name of our merciful Saviour, Friend, and Brother, our Lord Jesus Christ.
Amen.
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