By: Jude Siciliano, OP

Dear Preachers:

It is hard to leave a place where you have been for a period of your life, especially when you have formed close ties. Someone said to me recently, "I hate goodbyes. I find them very difficult." She said it in a way that suggested this was unique to her and not what almost everyone feels. Who doesn’t "hate goodbyes?" Unless a person is glad to get out of a destructive relationship, or a very difficult situation, I don’t know anyone who finds farewells easy. Most of us look forward to them with sadness and dread. Even people I have known who are moving to a promising future – marriage, a better job, a new home – still feel pain about packing up and leaving. They know they are leaving a known world behind for an uncertain future. Anyone who has invested themselves in friends and place knows the poignancy of saying "farewell."

When the time comes for parting we try to soften the pain of the moment. "I’ll visit when I can." "I’ll call you often." "We’ll spend vacation time together." "You’ll have to visit the first chance you get." Though we do intend to do just what we say, we often have a fear that time and distance will make it hard to maintain the close ties with family and friends we have known. We will do our best to adapt to new circumstances and relationships and in doing that we may have to let go of at least some of what once was. It’s dreadful! One positive note, though: those we have loved in our past make it possible for us to leave and give us the courage to set down roots again.

In today’s gospel Jesus and his disciples are at table. It is the Last Supper and we are in the midst of the Last Discourse (chapters 13-17). From what Jesus has been telling them the disciples can’t miss the solemnity, indeed the heaviness, of the moment. He is going away and they will no longer have him with them in the ways they have become accustomed. He says he is going, "to prepare a place for you" (14:3). Just before today’s passage Jesus reassures them, "I will not leave you orphans; I will come back to you." When we say our farewells we try to assure the ones we are leaving that we will stay in touch. And we do our best to do just that. We don’t want to lose those we love.

Jesus is expressing the same kind of sentiment; but he will keep his promise to "stay in touch" in ways the disciples cannot imagine at this point. "The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you." Jesus doesn’t want us to have to rely just on his disciples’ recollections of him – who he was for them and what he taught them. He knows that being the mere humans they and we are, these memories will fade and weaken over time, especially when life tests our faith and hard times threaten to break our ties with him.

Jesus is saying a very unique goodbye. He is leaving his beloved band of followers, but promises to be with them in the future in a new way. He has to go, he tells them but, "...I will come back to you." Jesus isn’t just saying, "Cheer up, things won’t be so bad." Actually things are going to get quite bad for him and them. But he is assuring them that the coming of the Holy Spirit will keep their relationship vibrant because the Spirit will be the bond that holds them together in love with him and his Father.

The Revelation reading says something similar in its description of the new Jerusalem. The Romans had destroyed the old Jerusalem in 70 CE. The new city won’t be where the old one was. Instead, God will be coming to dwell among the people, so that where they gather, God will be. Jesus is telling his disciples a similar thing; he and his Father will make their dwelling with them. This new Jerusalem will be marked by love among its inhabitants and that will be proof that God dwells with them. Indeed, each believer, each lover of God, will be a locus for God on earth. "Whoever loves me will keep my word...and we will come to them to make our dwelling with them."

When will Jesus return? Isn’t that the question long-suffering Christians have asked through the ages? Who knows how and when he will? But in his farewell to his disciples he assures them that he will return and so he does, because God sends them the gift of the Holy Spirit. This Spirit, Advocate and Comforter, brings Christ’s presence to us, helps us understand who he is, what he is doing among us and what he expects of us. Jesus promises that God will send the Spirit and what Jesus was to them, the Spirit will be to the Church. Jesus taught his disciples much; the Spirit will continue teaching the Church. Jesus showed his disciples how to love; the Spirit will make that love possible among them. Jesus’ words are in danger of being forgotten; the Spirit will "remind" the disciples of what Jesus taught and continue to teach them in succeeding generations.

What is extraordinary about Jesus’ farewell is his gift of peace to his disciples. The disciples are not having an ordinary meal together; nor is Jesus bidding them, "Good night. Peace, I’ll see you tomorrow." Instead he offers them peace in the light of the chaos about to enter their lives with his capture and death. He says he doesn’t give them the peace the world offers. That’s good because when things fall apart the world can give us nothing to sustain our spirits and calm our fears. Jesus’ peace take a very specific form: he will return to be with them. His Holy Spirit will strengthen them for what they are about to face and what we, their descendants, will face in the ages to come.

We know the kind of peace we need these days and it is a peace only Jesus’ Spirit can confer. We need wise leaders who can bring God’s peace despite the failures at peacemaking we are encountering in the world. We need the Spirit to bring healing to our troubled and wounded Church. We need a peace-rendering Spirit to draw together our parishes that are divided by arguments large and small. We need a Spirit that will renew our conviction that our Savior is the Prince of Peace, so that we can bring his peace into our families, schools and workplaces. We also need the Spirit’s vision to appreciate the peacemaker and non-violent folks in our midst whose voices and actions are often ridiculed as being naive or ignored because their ways seem "impractical in our modern world."

No, we don’t have Jesus’ physical presence with us the way the first disciples did who sat around the table, witnessed his washing their feet and listened to his reassuring promises. His farewell to them was a true farewell. He would no longer be with them as he had been. But they and we would have to believe that he is present in a different way with us in the Holy Spirit, God’s gift to us, just as Jesus promised. If we can trust in the Spirit’s presence with us now, then we will have peace in whatever turmoil we or the church face. Easier said than done! This peace is not something we can manufacture for ourselves. It is a gift, or inheritance from Jesus who doesn’t want to "lose touch" with us. Can we be open to that Spirit now and receive the gift that keeps our ties with Christ strong? That’s something we pray for at this Eucharist and in these days leading up to Pentecost.

The Risen Christ is with us at table, just as he was with his disciples. The meal we share is his life given for us. It is also a "promise kept" for we celebrate the gift he promised—the Spirit. This Spirit keeps his memory alive for us, not as a reminiscence from the long-gone past, but as Christ’s living presence guiding and comforting us, just as he did for his original disciples.