Easter 6 Year A

1Peter 3.13-22; John 14.15-21

From our epistle this morning:
Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. Always be ready to make your defence to anyone who demands from you an account of the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence.

For nearly the last 24 hours, and continuing as we worship together now, a web of hope is being woven around us and the Cathedral. You might be able to see a few of the banners along by the pillars, banners made to celebrate Active Travel – walking, running, cycling – ways of crossing the earth gently and without contributing to its, to our, pollution. Starting at 12 noon yesterday, and throughout the night, as part of that celebration of Active Travel, people have been intentionally encircling the Cathedral in a web of hope; walking around the perimeter to restore hope in themselves and in a world that seems to provide plenty of reasons for despair. That web is wonderfully diverse – Christians of different kinds, people of other faiths and none – at 8am this morning a group of Buddhists led a walking mediation around the building. All walking to rediscover, re-animate hope – hope for and in a wide range of things. But above all the hope found in human connection, in restoring that web that joins us with one another. The relay has been an exercise in, a model of, community – with one another, and with the earth that sustains life.

This morning the walk happening around us is focused particularly on our need, our hope, for peace. The children of our Sunday Club are walking with others with that intention, and later in the service they will process in origami cranes, symbols of the hope for peace that has arisen from the ashes of nuclear conflagration in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Those cranes will be offered at our altar along with our bread and wine.

And later, as we celebrate our communion with Christ and with one another, the living bread will be broken for the life of the world. The church is that community re-made each week in the breaking and the sharing of Christ’s body. His offering of himself in bread and wine is our receiving and our making.

In this morning’s Gospel, we heard Jesus offer his disciples, as part of his long farewell discourse, so just before he is arrested, to be crucified and to die; before all that, he offers his disciples a promise. It is a promise to sustain them through times that will test their faith to the limit, their understanding to breaking point. Jesus says: I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, who will be with you for ever - the Spirit of truth. ... I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you.’

I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate. The Greek word used there is Paraclete; it can be hard to find an exact translation, and so sometimes it is left untranslated. The NRSV, the translation we use, chooses that legal term, Advocate: one who speaks up on our behalf. But paraclete also has connotations of one who gives courage – the encourager; and the comforter. Advocate is the word we have this morning. Jesus promises to gift to his followers one who responds to prosecution; one who acts in their defence.

And having made that promise, Jesus is taken off to be crucified. Having promised an Advocate, he will be an almost silent presence through his trail and execution. His actions are left to speak in his defence, not his words.

So as we contemplate where hope is to be found, where it might be re-born, what role does the Advocate play? Where is the Spirit at work?

We live in a world of pointing fingers, where much political capital is gained from the blame game. Politicians themselves, refugees, the poor - in varying ways each is pointed at, blamed for our woes. That finger pointing, the blame game which now passes for so much political and societal discourse, indicates above all an anxiety, a fear, a dis-ease, a broken web of society, that is larger than anything it is in the gift of politicians alone to answer. So is this the activity of the Spirit, the Advocate, the one standing up on our behalf, pointing out all that is wrong? Is the Spirit given for us to participate in the blame game?

Having given the disciples that promise, Jesus’ subsequent journey, to the cross, to that place where the pain of the world is shouldered, not grumbled about, suggests not. Out of brokenness, the Spirit brings connection; the living bread is broken for the life of the world, and Christ’s body is shared to reform us in community with one another and our earth. That is the Spirit in whom Theo will shortly be baptized, to be part of that community that has been given the promise of a Spirit who abides with us for ever. A Spirit on whom we wait, our defender, encourager and comforter. But one who defends us not by finger pointing at others, but who uncovers the connections, the community that is God’s will for all: ‘I am in my Father, and you in me and I in you.’ The Christian vision is always one of unexpected connection and community.

As our collect put it this week:

Merciful God, you have prepared for those who love you riches beyond imagination. Pour into our hearts such love toward you that we, loving you above all things, may obtain your promises which exceed all that we can desire; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.