For the Healing of the Nations John 14:23-29, Revelation 21:10, 22:1-5

The 116th Infantry Brigade Combat Team of the Virginia National Guard
left Staunton last week on their way to Camp Shelby, Mississippi
where they will spend a month training for deployment to Iraq.
In the team that left was a young wife and mother of a seven year old little girl.
She had to say goodbye to her parents, her husband and her daughter
knowing that she would be not be able to celebrate Mother’s Day with them,
in fact, that she will be away from them in a war zone for at least a year.

How does a mother prepare herself and her daughter for a year-long separation?
The Department of Defense has a website with some helpful tips.
What they don’t tell you is what to do about the constant dull ache in your chest;
what to do when a sharp stab of panic wakes you in the middle of the night;
what to do with the anger you dare not show for fear of upsetting loved ones
or being thought disloyal to the cause.

Separation from the one you love causes all kinds of anxiety.
Nowhere is that anxiety more keenly reflected in the scriptures
than in John’s gospel where four entire chapters – almost 20% of the whole book
involves Jesus preparing his disciples for the time when he will leave them.

Jesus must have read the Department of Defense’s website
because he seems to anticipate his disciples’ questions surrounding his departure
before they even ask.

He tells them where he’s going – to be with the Father –
which they probably understand about as well
as a seven-year-old understands Baghdad –
but he does try to be straight with them.
He tells them that he will not leave them without anything to remember him by.
He won’t leave them without a communication plan.
He will give them the Comforter, the Guide, the Companion, the Holy Spirit.
Jesus tells his disciples some of the things they can expect during his absence;
that some people will misunderstand them or even hate them
but he tells them to just keep on loving others as he has loved them
and they will be fine.

Jesus then prays for his disciples – a deep, passionate prayer,
asking the Father to protect them until they can be reunited.
One last thing Jesus leaves with them, one final gift to see them through.
He says, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”
I think we can all agree that’s easier said than done.

Separation is a two-sided coin.
On one hand, separation is an essential part of human development.
Around the age of one, a child’s brain starts to register the concept of absence.
That’s when the child starts to notice that the caregiver has disappeared
and the child gets anxious that the caregiver might not come back.
Loud wailing is heard every morning in day care centers across the land.
because of this very normal separation anxiety.


It’s a difficult stage for parent AND child
but working through this separation is critical for the child’s ability
to stand on her own two feet.
Separation leads to autonomy. That’s a good thing.

But separation – or maybe we should call it the lack of connection –
is also a symptom of what ails us.
Somehow we go from great anxiety at being left alone as child
all the way to the other end of the spectrum as adults
when we develop this illusion that we CAN GO IT alone;
that we don’t really NEED anyone.
Sociologists have all kinds of theories about why we Americans
have such an overdeveloped drive toward individuality.
I heard Canadian actress and film director Sarah Polley interviewed yesterday
and the interviewer remarked on what he called her “ambition.”
She was surprised at the remark and commented
that in her family it was an insult to call someone “ambitious.”
The interviewer replied, “But you’re in the United States now – it’s OK.”
They went on to explore the differences between Canada and the United States
and she said, “In Canada we put a lot more emphasis
on doing things for the good of the community.”
Is that a fair statement?
I don’t know Canada. But I do get the sense that
while one of our strengths as a nation is our individual drive and ambition
it is also our Achilles’ Heel.
While it is likely the chief cause of our national prosperity,
it is the possibly very thing that stands in the way
of our receiving Jesus’ gift of peace.

When my older brother John was six and it became time for him to enter first grade
he went through a bout of what psychologists would now call
“separation anxiety disorder.”
For the first week of school my father had to go with him to class
and sit awkwardly in a tiny desk in his coat and tie
until John got engaged in a class activity and forgot to be anxious.
Tired of being late to work, my father finally took him into the hall and spanked him.
He said, “Now then, I’ve got to go to work and you’ve got to stay here.
Do you understand me?”
To which my brother replied, “Daddy, you’re gonna have to give me
some more of that whippin’ ‘cause I just can’t stay.”
But John eventually learned to stay in class.
In fact he received a full college scholarship, went to medical school,
and is now a successful Family Physician.
It’s odd, though. As an adult he has rarely initiated family contact.
He seems to like us fine but he’s definitely got that separation anxiety thing licked.

I said earlier that “separation” is for us a two sided coin.
There are two sides – fear of being taken away from the ones we love
but also the fear of being tied down by our obligations to another.
There are two sides, but only one coin
and fear is the common element.

If I was to look back at each sermon I’ve preached since September 11, 2001,
I would predict that at least 80% of them have to do with the topic of “fear.”
The trauma of that shared experience on 9/11 stirred up our separation anxiety.
It brought our fear of being left helpless and vulnerable
raging to the surface like a class 5 hurricane.
It’s taken me all this time to begin to understand how it affected me.
It’s odd, but if you remember the days right after the tragedy,
there was a curious comfort to be found
as families and friends shared their grief,
as condolences came in from all across the globe,
as Republicans and Democrats stood on the Capitol steps
hand in hand saying prayers and singing patriotic songs.
Stories of heroic sacrifices humbled us.
barriers of race and class and nationality evaporated
as we recognized the way shared grief makes us brothers and sisters.
Though in a way it sounds like nonsense,
I would go so far as to say that in the aftermath of that awful day
we tasted a small morsel of the peace Jesus was talking about.

But all that togetherness was apparently just too much
for our individualistic, autonomous streak to handle.
It’s almost as if on the national level
we fear unity and cooperation more than we fear a terrorist attack.
I don’t have enough time to outline all the ways
our rabid autonomy as individuals and as a nation
has undermined that fleeting sense of peace and unity.
I don’t have to. You know.
To make matters worse, at the same time we have been indulging
our nationalistic bent toward going it alone,
we in the various church denominations
have been engaged in our own shameful wars.
We have mirrored the secular world in our bickering, barking, and berating
and then we wonder why there are such deep cracks in our foundation.


It would almost seem hopeless.
It would almost seem hopeless if not for one thing.
It would almost seem hopeless if not for the promise,
if not for the vision,
if not for the occasional and powerful glimpses we get of the TRUTH
that division, and violence, and ego-driven self-promotion are not the final word.
We see it here in this sanctuary when one of you stands
and through tears says “Thank you” for the care you have received
from your brothers and sisters in Christ.
We see it in the work crews who find deep satisfaction
in using their skills and energy with Habitat for Humanity to build someone a home.
We’ve seen it these past few weeks
as Virginia Tech students and parents came together
to chase self-serving reporters off campus,
to voice a resounding “NO” to those looking for a scapegoat,
and to go through graduation exercises with dignity and grace.

In the final chapter of Revelation John closes his vision
with an image of the Holy City.
He calls it Jerusalem, but the vision bears no resemblance to the actual city.
In his vision throngs of people gather around the throne of God
and from the throne flows the river of life, flanked on either side by trees of life.
Each tree bears a different fruit each month
and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.

Though division in our world, in our nation, and in our church denominations
has been about as bad as it gets in recent years,
John’s vision still stands.

The river is only a trickle right now, the tree of life just a tiny shoot.
Fruit is but a promise, healing a distant hope.

But God has given us THE church and THIS church as a laboratory;
a place where we can try backing off of our stubborn individuality
and experience together a new sort of community;
where we can experience together the healing balm of Jesus’ peace.
This is our opportunity. This is our best hope.
And as a community of faith;
as those who DARE to CARE for each other
we will join together in prayer for, today and in the year to come,
for Jennifer Martin as she prepares for Iraq
and Matt Martin, her husband, and their daughter Kayla
as they are separated from her and wait for her to come home.