AFTER JESUS SAID this, he looked toward heaven and prayed:
“Father, the time has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you. 2For you granted him authority over all people that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him. 3Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. 4I have brought you glory on earth by completing the work you gave me to do. 5And now, Father, glorify me in your presence with the glory I had with you before the world began.
6“I have revealed you to those whom you gave me out of the world. They were yours; you gave them to me and they have obeyed your word. 7Now they know that everything you have given me comes from you. 8For I gave them the words you gave me and they accepted them. They knew with certainty that I came from you, and they believed that you sent me. 9I pray for them. I am not praying for the world, but for those you have given me, for they are yours. 10All I have is yours, and all you have is mine. And glory has come to me through them. 11I will remain in the world no longer, but they are still in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them by the power of your name—the name you gave me—so that they may be one as we are one. 12While I was with them, I protected them and kept them safe by that name you gave me. None has been lost except the one doomed to destruction so that Scripture would be fulfilled.
13“I am coming to you now, but I say these things while I am still in the world, so that they may have the full measure of my joy within them. 14I have given them your word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world. 15My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one. 16They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. 17Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth. 18As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world. 19For them I sanctify myself, that they too may be truly sanctified.
20“My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, 21that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. 22I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one: 23I in them and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.
24“Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world.
25“Righteous Father, though the world does not know you, I know you, and they know that you have sent me. 26I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.”
Original Meaning
JOHN 17 GIVES us a glimpse into the heart of Jesus unlike any other chapter in the four Gospels. For many readers of this “beloved Gospel” it is the “beloved chapter,” expressing so much of what Jesus aimed to express in his life and work.1 It is the longest prayer that we have from Jesus. Luke often mentions Jesus at prayer (Luke 3:21; 5:16; 6:12; 9:18, 28–29; 11:1; 22:41–45; 23:46); perhaps the Lord’s Prayer is comparable, but not even it provides the depth and range of ideas offered here.2 Listening to the prayer of someone often provides a glimpse into the deeper recesses of that person’s consciousness of God. Such is certainly true in this prayer. Over a hundred years ago one commentator wrote: “No attempt to describe the prayer can give a just idea of its sublimity, its pathos, its touching yet exalted character, its tone at once of tenderness and triumphant expectation.”3
In our introduction to the Farewell Discourse (see comments on ch. 14) we concluded that these chapters in John fit a defined literary form in Judaism. Dying or departing leaders, prophets, and rabbis commonly provided “final words” of instruction for their disciples who remained behind. This tradition also made use of a “departing prayer,” which closes the farewell speech. Earlier we compared the farewell of Moses in Deuteronomy, and now we can return to it. That farewell (Deut. 32–33) has a form of prayer similar to that found in John 17. As Israel listens, Moses begins by praising God: “I will proclaim the name of the LORD. Oh, praise the greatness of our God!” (32:3). Following this lengthy prayer, Moses then turns to the Israelites and prays a blessing on them for their future (ch. 33).
This is the pattern of John 17. Jesus turns from his own concerns with God (17:1–8) to those of the church and its future (17:9–26). The same pattern is displayed in Leviticus when Aaron the priest learns how to sacrifice and pray. First he prays and worships on his own behalf (Lev. 16:11–14), then he offers a sin offering and prayer for the people (16:15–19).
Technically, while Jesus’ prayer presents us with these two divisions, the second division of the prayer should be divided into two parts. Following his personal prayer, Jesus prays for his personal disciples (17:9–19) and then prays for those who will be their disciples (17:20–26). This then organizes the prayer into three separate sections: Jesus prays for himself, for his followers, and for the later church. This organization is so finely built that Brown has shown how each of the three parts even displays parallel themes:4
• Each part begins with what Jesus is asking or praying for (vv. 1, 9, 20)
• Each has the theme of glory (vv. 1–5, 10, 22)
• Each has an address to the Father partway through (vv. 5, 11, 21)
• Each mentions the followers given to Jesus by the Father (vv. 2, 9, 24)
• Each has the theme of Jesus’ revelation of the Father to his followers (v. 6, “your name”; v. 14, “your word”; v. 26, “your name”)
Such symmetry has led to numerous theories about the history of the prayer.5 Its natural use of “Father” in its petitions anchors it securely to the usual custom of Jesus’ habit of speech.6 Some compare the prayer with the finely worked prologue of John (1:1–18) and wonder if this prayer was ever used separately, even liturgically, in John’s own church. Note that Mark 14:26 says that at the end of their evening in the Upper Room, the disciples sang a hymn before departing. This has led some to speculate whether this prayer could have also been used in eucharistic worship.7 But these are all theories, and proof for them is impossible. We can be confident, however, that the prayer did not originate on its own separate from the Farewell Discourse, for the themes found in it build on ideas already covered in the preceding chapters.
We should also try to understand the theological role of the prayer in the portrait we have of Jesus in this Gospel. In the Synoptics we read about Jesus in prayer before his arrest, struggling with the true meaning of his sacrifice (Matt. 26:36–43; Mark 14:32–42; Luke 22:41–45). However, the agony of Gethsemane is never suggested in John, for whom Jesus is confident and hopeful. The prayer is uttered just prior to Jesus’ arrest (18:3), which places it chronologically in the right place with Jesus’ Gethsemane prayer, but the atmosphere of the prayer cannot be compared.
But this does not mean that the prayers are at odds with one another. The combined portrait we find of Jesus is convincing: He simultaneously experienced the anxiety of the cross and came to resolution through his confidence in and obedience to God. The Synoptics all record Jesus’ firm obedience to God (“My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will”; Matt. 26:39, italics added) and his confidence that whatever should come this night is firmly rooted in God’s will.
Many have called this chapter Jesus’ “high priestly prayer,” in which he prays for himself and intercedes for his followers. Such a view fits the work of Christ described in Romans 8:34 and Hebrews 7:25 (though this work is reserved generally for his service following his ascension). John knows this theme and in 1 John 2:1–2 can describe Jesus in his intercessory work. For others, this is Jesus’ “prayer of consecration,” in which he prepares himself for his death and glorification, readying himself to be a sacrifice for his followers. In John 17:19, for instance, Jesus seems to be heading to the sacrificial altar (“For them I sanctify myself, that they too may be truly sanctified”). Westcott tied in this idea with Jesus’ departure from the Upper Room in 14:31 and concluded that since Jesus has not yet left the Kidron Valley (18:1), he may be praying in the temple, the common place of sacrifice.8 Other scholars object that the chapter contains no notion of sacrifice, that the prayer is not “priestly,” and that Jesus aims to simply reveal his unity with the Father.9
No doubt prayers of personal consecration and priestly intercession are central to the meaning of Jesus’ words in this chapter. All is being said in the shadow of the cross, and Jesus is not only preparing himself for this momentous event, but thinking about his followers. But we also have to see the prayer as an opportunity for further revelation. We should not assume that Jesus’ prayer was something said privately; rather, in the Jewish tradition it was said aloud and so was available for his followers to hear (cf. 11:41–42; 12:27–30; also Matt. 11:25–30; Luke 10:21–22). The disciples are invited (as are readers) to catch a glimpse of Jesus’ intimate relation between himself and his Father and to learn of his origins and his future, his mission and its successes, his concerns and his hopes. As the last chapter before Jesus’ arrest, trial, and crucifixion, this is the Gospel’s final opportunity to sweep up the many ideas about Jesus given in every other chapter. John 17 is in this sense a summary of Jesus’ ministry. As the prologue anticipated the major ideas of the gospel (1:1–18), this prayer reviews and consolidates them.
Three themes thread their way through many of the prayer’s paragraphs. (1) Jesus prays about glorification, that his obedience in this hour will truly bring glory to God. (2) He also prays for his followers’ survival. Will they survive the enmity of the world? Will they remain united despite their differences? Do they truly possess the tools he has given them: knowing God’s love as well as his Word, obeying his commands? (3) Finally, he prays about holiness. Will his followers emulate the holiness he has shown them? Will their lives so reflect the life of the Son living in them that they become living testimonies to the world?
Jesus Prays for Himself (17:1–8)
IT IS NOT entirely correct to view this opening to the prayer as Jesus’ “praying for himself” (in contrast to him praying for others in later sections). It is not as if he has a list of petitions that he offers to God. There is no self-seeking here. We find but a single petition—“Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you”—repeated in these verses. This section of the prayer finds Jesus talking to his Father about his efforts on earth to glorify God and to be obedient to his will. In this sense, the section presupposes the incarnational Christology of the prologue. But now, with the work of the Incarnation complete (which assumes Jesus’ descent from heavenly glory), Jesus anticipates his ascent, his resumption of the glory he had before creation.
The opening phrase (“After Jesus said this,” 17:1) links the prayer to the Farewell Discourse that Jesus has now completed.10 He assumes a common Jewish posture for prayer by raising his eyes toward heaven (cf. 11:41, at Lazarus’ tomb; also cf. Ps. 123:1). In the parable of the tax collector one sign of the man’s humility is his refusal to lift his eyes to heaven (Luke 18:13). When Jesus prayed, he also probably raised his hands in the same direction (Ex. 9:33; 17:11; Ps. 28:2). Jesus’ culture was accustomed to physical gestures (speech, movement, sound) accompanying religious activity.11
Addressing God as “Father” was Jesus’ habit, and in this prayer it occurs six times (see also 11:41; 12:27). In 17:11 it becomes “holy Father” and in 17:25 “righteous Father.” Such intimate language for God was a hallmark of Jesus’ spirituality and led no doubt to the early Christian preference of imitating Jesus’ Aramaic title for God, Abba (Father), even by those who spoke Greek (Mark 14:36; Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6). Jesus says that the “hour” (Gk. hora; NIV “time”) has come, which points to “the hour of glorification” we have anticipated throughout the Gospel (see comment on 2:4). That Jesus mentioned the arrival of this hora in 12:23 and 13:1 (cf. 13:31) indicates that this “hour” is an elastic period of time that will incorporate the many events of Jesus’ departure (from his final night with his followers through to the cross and resurrection). Now, however, the words gain an added poignancy. Shortly the hour will accelerate when during this night Jesus is suddenly arrested (18:1–14).
What does Jesus mean when he asks to be “glorified”? The Greek word used here (doxazo) means to venerate, bring homage or praise (see 1:14; 12:28). For Jesus the cross is not a place of shame, but a place of honor. His oneness with the Father means that as he is glorified, so too is the Father glorified. His impulse, then, is not for self-promotion but glorification, so that the Father can be honored through his obedience.
This unique connection with the Father finds further explanation (17:2) inasmuch as Jesus also possesses a divine authority over all humanity (5:27; cf. Matt. 11:27; 28:18) so that he may distribute to them eternal life (John 3:35–36; 10:28).12 The tension between God’s sovereignty and election in 17:2 and his universal love for the world is a subject that comes up regularly in this Gospel (see comment on 17:9). But John sees no confusion in it and can tie human responsibility together with election (see 6:37–44; 10:29). The devastating and controlling darkness of the world requires that God participate in our decision to come to the light, or else no one would be saved. Yet those who remain in the darkness, who do not come to the light, stand under his judgment for not availing themselves of this merciful opportunity.
This eternal life offered by Jesus takes on definition in 17:3.13 However its interpretation must be carefully weighed. Eternal life comes through “knowing God.” This theme occurs not only in gnostic literature but in a variety of world religions today. Some interpreters of John have used such language to show that indeed John’s Gospel provides such a gnostic salvation.14 But there are stark differences: This “knowing” is not about intellectual assent at all. The Hebrew notion of knowing encompasses experience and intimacy and for Christians this means obedience to and love for God.
Moreover, such knowledge must include a commitment to Jesus Christ, God’s Son. As we will see, such knowledge is realized through the work of Jesus on the cross (17:19). To deny the Son is to deny any true knowledge of the Father (1 John 2:22–23). This is because the only true knowledge of God has been delivered to humanity through the incarnation of his Son (1:18). Without Jesus Christ, access to God is impossible (14:6–7, 11; 20:31).
The first accomplishment of the Incarnation was Jesus’ display of God’s glory for the world. John 1:14 describes it: “We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” Now Jesus says that he has accomplished this task God has given him to do (17:4). His life has glorified God.
But does Jesus say that he is finished at this point in his life?15 Surely he cannot be finished, for his work on the cross lies still ahead. On the contrary, it is best to see this finished work as including the hour of glorification in which Jesus is now engaged. This work includes his death, resurrection, and return to the Father, as much as it includes his revelation of the Father to the world. The contrast of 17:4 and 5 is not between Jesus’ incarnational work and his sacrificial work, but between his life on earth (when God was glorified) and his resumption of his place in heaven (when God will glorify him again). Jesus has glorified God in his life and will continue to do so in his death; thus, he prays that God will glorify him in his return to the Father.
Some interpreters divide the text at 17:6 and describe these verses as prayer in the interest of disciples. But a change does not occur until 17:9 (and 17:20), when Jesus marks the prayer, showing a change of topic (using the Gk. verb erotao, “I pray”). On the contrary, 17:6–8 are simply an expansion that describes the work Jesus has accomplished in 17:4.
What then is Jesus’ summary of the work he finished in his ministry? Jesus has revealed “God’s name” (17:6).16 Not only does Jesus mention this here but he returns to affirm it again in 17:26. In 17:11–12 Jesus prays that his followers will be kept safe “by that name.” The idea of name is not a minor idea to Jesus. The “name” of someone represents the totality, the inner character, of their entire person. Thus in Exodus 3:13 it is important to Moses that he know the name of God so that he can indicate to the Israelites who their Savior really is. It is no accident that throughout the Gospel Jesus not only refers to his work as empowered by God’s name (John 10:25) but also that people should believe in “his name” (1:12; 2:23; 3:18). Jesus bears the name of God, which is unveiled in the Gospel in its many “I am” sayings.17 Thus, in revealing himself, he has disclosed the personhood (the name) of God to the entire world.
But this revelation has not been distributed without purpose. While it has been offered to the entire world, only those who have faith (17:8), who have received (17:8) and kept (17:6) Jesus’ word, have truly understood what was happening in this divine revelation. They know that Jesus has come from God and his words are divine.
But this description of these recipients is only what we might call the human perspective, recording the responses of men and women who have joined Jesus’ flock. That only a portion of Israel embraced God’s Son should come as no surprise. This had been the history of Israel and its prophets. Despite the apparent absence of faith, God is always aware of preserving a faithful remnant who belong to him, who, like sheep, know the voice of their shepherd (10:3). In Elijah’s day, for example, the prophet thought that he alone was left who had not bowed to Baal (1 Kings 19:14). But God corrected him, “Yet I reserve seven thousand in Israel—all whose knees have not bowed down to Baal” (19:18). God is at work in places we least suspect.
A similar role for God is assumed in 17:2, 6, and 10, so that Jesus’ disciples can be described as followers who belonged to God—a remnant, whom God delivered to Jesus. Of course this at once sets in place a theological tension that we must examine (see below). How are we to interpret this divine sovereignty and human response?
Jesus Prays for His Disciples (17:9–19)
THE THOUGHT OF this remnant, this flock, that has recognized Jesus’ voice and believed leads Jesus to pray for them specifically (17:9). They are precious because they belong to the Father and are now Jesus’ responsibility (17:10). Jesus is not praying for the world (the arena of unbelief), though this does not mean that the world is outside God’s love or that Jesus neglects the world. Nothing could be further from the truth. The failure to read these verses in the wider context of John’s theology has led many to misrepresent them. God loves the world (3:16) and entered humanity in his Son for the sake of the world, to save it (1:29; 3:17; 4:42), offer it life (6:33, 51; 12:35), and bring it light (8:12; 9:5; 11:9; 12:46). Now Jesus’ work in the world is near completion, and he is praying exclusively for his immediate followers who will be left behind as he departs. Like a shepherd about to lay down his life for his sheep (10:17), he prays for his flock whom he has led and who now must persevere in the wilderness.
Note the similarity between Jesus’ prayer in 17:10 and that in 17:1. The pattern of glorification is now complete: God is glorified through his Son (17:1, 4, 5) and the Son is glorified through his disciples (17:10, 22). Therefore those features of Jesus’ life that brought glory to God may likewise be the characteristics of discipleship that bring glory to Jesus. But since Jesus and the Father share a perfect unity, when a disciple’s life bears fruit, God himself is glorified directly (15:8). Jesus is describing a pattern of divine life, of indwelling and mysticism, in which God and Jesus share an interiority that leads to this sharing of glory; he also anticipates that disciples will enjoy a similar unity with God (17:24; cf. 14:23) and each other (17:11, 22).
(1) Jesus’ first concern, his first petition for his followers, is that they remain united (17:11). Remarkably he desires that his disciples enjoy an intimacy and oneness that are analogous to the intimacy and oneness he shares with the Father. The reason for Jesus’ concern is that his service, providing leadership and unity, will end with his departure. In fact, he is already departing. Jesus uses the present tense, “and now I am no more in the world,” which lends the prayer a mystical sense that the hour of glorification is pulling Jesus forward, lifting him already to the Father.18
His disciples, however, do remain in the world. This is the environment not just of unbelief and cynicism, but of abject hostility (15:18–27). The mission of the church, the task of Jesus’ followers, is to challenge this world (16:8–11), to draw out those who love the truth and bring them into the flock. It is not an invitation to defeat. With the aid of the Spirit there will be genuine victory. “For everyone born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith” (1 John 5:4). This empowering, this confidence, is the source of their joy (17:13b; cf. 16:22).
(2) Jesus’ next worry concerns his disciples’ sustenance and strength in the world. Their assignment is dangerous, and so he prays for their equipment and protection. Jesus has given them his word (17:14a), and the Spirit will recall it and keep it secure (14:26). This word, this divine revelation, will become essential equipment in their testimony and survival in the world.
Jesus also prays for their protection, particularly from Satan (17:15b). He recognizes the power of evil for he lost one of his disciples to Satan (13:27; cf. 12:31; 14:30; 16:11; 1 John 2:13–14; 3:12), and now he understands that representing God in this world is an invitation to genuine battle. Later John will write: “We know that we are children of God, and that the whole world is under the control of the evil one” (1 John 5:19). Inasmuch as Jesus has worked in the world, he has been assaulted by Satan but never overcome (John 14:30). But his disciples must contend with these powers since they remain in this world (17:15). God’s “name” will be a refuge (17:11), as the wise man wrote in Proverbs: “The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe” (Prov. 18:10).
(3) Jesus’ third concern has to do with holiness (17:17–19). There is a spiritual dilemma that pertains to all disciples: They live in the world, and yet Jesus can say that they are not “of the world” (17:14, 16). This points not to their location geographically, but to their position spiritually. As we have seen throughout this Gospel, the “world” is not a place on a map but a spiritual domain, an atmosphere of darkness and unbelief (3:19). It possesses values inimical to God.19 It is not the domain of a disciple’s spiritual identity any more than it was the domain of Jesus’ identity (17:16). A better translation of 17:16 reads, “They do not belong to the world.”
Jesus prays that his disciples might be “sanctified” (Gk. hagiazo) in the truth (17:17).20 This Greek word refers to something made holy, but the means to achieving this holiness is through separation. God is God by virtue of his difference, his transcendence, his otherness with respect to all creation. Anything (a mountain, a temple shovel, a priestly garment, a people) that belongs to him or serves his purposes should consider itself “holy” and set apart from common use. To be holy, then, is not in the first instance a description of perfection (though this is included). It refers to a life that is so aligned with God that it reflects God’s passions completely (for good, against evil). Such a person can be considered “sanctified,” holy, attached to God’s purposes and presence. In this case Jesus understands that a complete attachment to the truth discovered in God’s Word will be the means of achieving this holiness (17:17b).
In the manner described here Jesus likewise was “set apart” (Gk. hagiazo) and sent into the world (10:36). He was separated, made holy, for a divine mission. Sanctification is always for mission since it is God’s activity in the world, bringing it truth and light and salvation. Thus the disciples have a mission similar to that of Jesus (17:18). They too should see their purposes for living as not their own, but shaped by the mission God has for them.
Perhaps 17:19 is one of the key verses in the prayer. When Jesus says that he sanctifies himself (Gk. hagiazo), to what does this refer? He may have in mind his self-dedication to his greater mission. Prophets and priests dedicated themselves thus. The Lord says to Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart” (Jer. 1:5, italics added). Priests likewise set themselves apart (Ex. 40:13; Lev. 8:30; 2 Chron. 5:11). But here in John 17:19 we learn that as a result of Jesus’ consecration, his disciples will benefit. In the phrase “for them,” “for” (Gk. hyper, meaning “for the sake of”) implies sacrificial death throughout John (see 6:51; 10:11, 15; 11:50–52; 13:37; 15:13; 18:14).21 “This bread is my flesh, which I will give for [hyper] the life of the world” (6:51). Note that Deuteronomy 15:19 even provides an example of hagiazo used in the context of blood sacrifice.
We should likely merge these views. Jesus is recommitting himself to the mission assigned by the Father. This priestly mission of service involves his sacrifice. Through his death on the cross, the disciples will experience something never known before. His death will enable them to experience a new holiness, an identification, a deep attachment with God. It is no surprise that following the cross and before Jesus departs to go to his Father, he prepares them with these things listed here: They will receive the Holy Spirit (the Spirit of truth) and the mission that this consecration demands (20:21–23). Each of these italicized words play a prominent role in the prayer of chapter 17.
Jesus Prays for All Believers (17:20–26)
JESUS IS AWARE that not only will he depart from the world, but likewise those who stand with him—his immediate circle of followers—will also depart to be with him in his glory (17:24). This will leave those whom they disciple, the church, to represent the kingdom in the world. Therefore Jesus now turns to pray for these followers whom he has not yet met, men and women who will follow the apostles, indeed the church today, which carries the mission set down by Jesus during his final week.
He first prays that they will have a unity (17:21) like that of his first disciples (17:11). This unity must be visibly based on love so that when the world sees them, it will know immediately that they represent Jesus. “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (13:35; cf. 1 John 3:11). But this love and unity is not a moral effort powered by human energy; it is an outgrowth of the union Christians will enjoy with Jesus himself (17:21b), a union modeled on the oneness of the Father and the Son, a union born when the Father and the Son indwell the believers when they are given new birth.
Jesus here envisages a profound spiritual intimacy that changes human life. It is a unity encompassing the Father with the Son, the disciples with them both, and the disciples in union with one another (14:10; 15:4). Interpreters often point out that Jesus fails to refer to the Spirit in his prayer. But it is the Spirit (mentioned from chapters 14–16) who facilitates this intimacy. Later John will write in his first letter, “We know that we live in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit” (1 John 4:13).
Inasmuch as the church bears the Spirit, it also bears the “call of God to the world, because it is the manifestation of the love and glory of God in the world.”22 Jesus was the bearer of God’s glory, and now the church bears that glory alone. “I have given them the glory that you gave me . . . to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (17:22–23). After the Sinai covenant was given, the glory of God left the mountain (Ex. 24:16) and descended on the tabernacle to live in Israel (Ex. 40:34). In the Gospel Jesus has been that place of glory (John 1:14), replacing, as it were, the temple. But now the thought is of the glory of God passing to Jesus’ followers, indwelling them. The confidence of the church’s mission rests here: If it lives in the Spirit (and thereby in the Father and Son), if it reflects God’s glory and love, if it shows a unity in its ranks born by a shared knowledge of God, its testimony will astonish the world.
But the final chapter in the church’s story lies ahead. The disciples had witnessed the glory of the incarnate Christ (1:14), and to a degree they had received something of that glory inasmuch as they were filled with the Spirit and experienced Christ in them (17:22). However, Jesus prays that some day his followers will see the true glory, the true love, that has existed in heaven since the beginning of time (17:5, 24). This is where Jesus is headed, where he is yearning to return to, and Christians possess an invitation to join him (cf. 14:3).
This anticipated glory, however, finds its counterpoint in the prayer’s last sentences (17:25–26). Jesus addresses God as “righteous Father,” reminding us that it is God’s righteousness that has led to his upright judgment of the world. The problem is not the world’s access to the knowledge of God—he came not to condemn the world but to save it (3:17)—but that the world refused to acknowledge that God had sent Jesus.
But all those who accept the Son, who embrace him and the Father, will experience the ineffable love known only between Father and Son. We are loved by God with the love he holds for his Son! And our lives are transformed by the life of Jesus, who now takes residence within our own. These are the last words Jesus prays before his arrest: “that I may be in them.” His last desire is to love his followers and indwell them, to fill them with the glory and joy he has known, so that their knowledge of God will be unsurpassed and overwhelming.
Bridging Contexts
WHILE JESUS’ PRAYER is profoundly inspiring, it presents special challenges for any interpreter wishing to bring its themes to the modern period. Rather than recording scenes in which Jesus teaches great truths about eternal life in his kingdom and demonstrates its power with signs (the Book of Signs), and rather than providing us with the promises of discipleship like those found in the Farewell Discourse, John 17 invites us to listen in on a conversation. It is a divine conversation of the highest order, in which Jesus speaks of the completion of his tasks on earth and prays earnestly for his followers, both present and future. Therefore it offers a glimpse of who Jesus truly is in relation to the Father, and it gives us a portrait of those things that are close to Jesus’ heart in these last days of his life among his disciples on earth.
Two guidelines. Keeping these limitations in mind, we may benefit if we remember two guidelines. (1) There are themes in the prayer that must necessarily be seen in the wider context of the Gospel’s theology. John has built his Gospel assuming his readers will read it straight through, watching themes build on one another. Therefore interpreters who examine the prayer in isolation or lift individual verses or paragraphs out of the wider context of the gospel can end up misrepresenting their meaning.
Two examples may suffice. (a) Throughout the prayer Jesus uses the language of “knowledge” for salvation. “Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent” (17:3). Such language appears frequently (about ten times). Some scholars, both ancient and modern, have argued that John’s soteriology is based on enlightenment, wisdom, or gnosis (knowledge, Gnosticism), so that the classic themes of repentance and faith or Christ’s saving death on the cross are unnecessary. But such a view would have never entered John’s mind. To “know” God encompasses a wide range of understanding that includes these other categories explained elsewhere in the Gospel. To neglect the larger theological framework of the Gospel is to misrepresent this chapter.
(b) A second example has to do with determinism. It is true that Jesus is not praying for the world; he is praying exclusively for his immediate followers. “I pray for them. I am not praying for the world, but for those you have given me, for they are yours” (17:9). In fact the “world” (Gk. kosmos) enjoys frequent mention in this chapter (eighteen times), but not once is the world the object of Jesus’ affections. Yet it would be erroneous to say that Jesus’ ecclesiology is utterly sectarian in John 17, that his mission is to locate his elect few and lift them from a despised world. Such an interpretation would be as wrong as lifting the sentence I have just written out of its paragraph and using it to represent my theological views. Again, the wider context of John’s theology in the Gospel is crucial. Any study or sermon on “the world” that uses John 17 must necessarily employ the many references to “the world” in the balance of the Gospel, that the “world” is loved and valued by God.
(2) The second guideline has to do with the literary form and setting of the literature we are reading. In chapters 1–12 we examined stories of Jesus in public ministry, providing miracles and signs as well as extended teachings. There were even brutal conflicts in which we were forced to understand certain paragraphs in light of the struggles of John’s own day (e.g., the references to “the Jews”). The form of the story changes in chapter 13, however, when Jesus provides his formal “farewell.” His audience is now no longer the world, but the closed circle of his disciples in the Upper Room. As a Christian I must make the hermeneutical decision that, indeed, these promises Jesus offers to them apply to me as well: I am a disciple, I am a recipient of Jesus’ care and concern. I may not possess those privileges that are bound by the historical specificity of the first century (such as the resurrection appearances), but I do enjoy the timeless gifts (such as the comfort and defense of the Holy Spirit).
Now in the Farewell Discourse we have another form and setting. Jesus is not talking to his disciples, he is talking to God. We are invited to listen in. But if this is private prayer, if this is Jesus’ personal conversation with God, what use is it to me? (a) We need to see such prayers as teaching vehicles. They are meant to be overheard so that disciples can study them and learn. In Ezra 9:6–15, Ezra offers to God a moving prayer of sorrow and repentance, and upon hearing his words the people are filled with grief (10:1). Ezra knows that this prayer not only moved the Israelites, but will move any who might read his account. In other words, his prayer was recorded for us (readers) as well. A similar role for prayers appears in Acts, where Luke records a lengthy prayer uttered by the church (Acts 4:24–30). But again, it is a prayer recorded for us, the reader. Therefore what we can glean from Jesus’ own spiritual perceptions and interests is appropriate.
(b) Nevertheless, it is a focused prayer limited by the concerns of the moment, not by universal issues of the church in the first century or today. My presupposition about the prayer is that it has its origins in what Jesus said (not in what John’s theology dictated) and therefore it is unfair for me to bring too many modern issues to it, looking for confirmation or direction. Jesus’ original agenda must win the day throughout. The prayer must speak to us from its concerns, and we should be cautious when we hear modern themes supposedly anchored to Jesus’ words here.
Jesus at prayer. With these provisions in mind, what themes can I bring from the prayer for current study and reflection? The most obvious item is the one most overlooked. Jesus prayed. We have hints throughout the Synoptic Gospels that Jesus was a man of prayer, but here we have a premier example of him praying. On the one hand, the prayer becomes a model prayer for us, illustrating the sort of intimacy and confidence we can experience. On the other hand, the prayer gives us insight into the character of relationship within God’s selfhood. This is the Father and the Son exhibiting the intimacy, the community, that is native to their life. Thus the prayer invites us into that quality of intimacy. The oneness Jesus enjoys with his Father is a oneness into which we are invited to participate. “My prayer is . . . that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me” (17:20–21, italics added). Christians are thus invited into this conversation.
The interests of Jesus. It is also appropriate for us to examine the interests of Jesus as he prays. What assumptions was he making about himself and God? How does he pray? I see two chief themes coming forward: Jesus explores his own relationship with God initially and then moves quickly to his concerns for his followers. What is Jesus telling God about his life, its aims, and its accomplishments? What can we glean from these to help us understand more fully Jesus’ mission and identity? Then Jesus moves on to explore the relationship he has with his followers. What attitude does he exhibit? What issues stand out as critical in his mind?
The character of the church. The third area of reflection is generally the subject most expositors explore immediately. What is the character of the church as Jesus envisages it in this prayer? Certainly verses 9–26 cannot be viewed as Jesus’ exhaustive definition of what it means to be the church. Interpreters who press these words to that end do so foolishly. These words supplement what we have learned elsewhere in the Farewell Discourse (and indeed throughout the Gospel).
Catalogues of ideas tumble over one another, each of which is worthy of reflection. The church should reflect God’s glory and love for the world, and it should exhibit a confidence in its knowledge of God since it bears Jesus’ word, a word that has come from God himself. The church has the truth, not a set of opinions, and the world should sense the strength of its conviction. But among these themes, two stand out: The church must be unified and the church must have a mission.
Jesus returns to the subject of unity two times (17:11, 21), encompassing both his immediate followers and the church to come. What is the nature of this unity? What contributes to unity? And what perils does the pursuit of unity present to the church today?
But the church not only has a relation with God, it also continues to be in the world, living amidst unbelief and darkness. Jesus uses the term world in two ways: as the common domain of human existence (17:13) and as a metaphor for everything that is opposed to God (17:14). Thus Christians are “in” the world while not being “of” the world. How do we delineate this? What guidelines do we make? How do we live as if we do not belong to the world yet avoid the problem of sectarianism, or a secluded, sheltered life that cannot reach the world any longer?
Contemporary Significance
IN HIS SPLENDID exposition on John 17, Lesslie Newbigin, the great Anglican leader and missionary to India, writes:
When a man is going on a long journey, he will find time on the eve of his departure for a quiet talk with his family, and—if he is a man of God—will end by commending to God not only himself and his journey, but also the family whom he leaves behind. Very surely will this be so if his journey is the last journey.23
We understand this impulse. It reveals a great deal about us—our affection for our family and our personal commitment to God. Therefore when we open the words of Jesus in John 17, we should let them speak to us out of the setting of his life and world. For at least three years, these men have been his closest companions. They have lived and worked together through many trials and joys. But now they have come to “the hour” that has pounded like a drumbeat through the pages of the Gospel. Judas’s departure signaled its arrival (13:31), and now Jesus knows that his own departure out of this world is at hand. He is leaving. Yet the prayer unveils his incredible love for his followers and his eagerness to return to his Father.
We should see ourselves too as the subjects of this prayer. Jesus is our Lord and shepherd as much as he was the shepherd of this small circle of men. Therefore when he prays, he invites us to listen, to hear the quality of the love and honor shared between himself and God. He invites us to listen too as he prays for believers, “so that they may have the full measure of my joy within them” (17:13). We are the church, the body of believers built on the apostles’ word (17:20b).
A sensitive, spiritual reading of chapter 17 may even convert its many “third person” sentences into “second person” in order to get the full force of Jesus’ passion for us. When we do this, suddenly the prayer takes on a remarkable force. For example:
But I say these things while I am still in the world, so that you may have the full measure of my joy within you. I have given you my Father’s word and the world has hated you, for you are not of the world any more than I am of the world. My prayer is not that God would take you out of the world but that he would protect you from the evil one. You are not of the world, even as I am not of it. But I want you to be made holy by the truth; God’s word is truth. As my Father sent me into the world, I am sending you into the world. I am sanctifying myself for you, that you too may be truly holy. (17:13–19)
Jesus and spirituality. Jesus’ spirituality was visible. He exhibited a spiritual life of worship, prayer, devotion, and love that left an indelible mark on all his followers. When men and women witnessed it, they were changed. Such visible spirituality can have strong effects. I recall some years back when my first grandparent died. It was the first funeral of our gathered family. Perhaps what was most striking were the expressions of the children, my nieces and nephews, who were then from three to twelve years old. For the first time, they saw the spiritual convictions of their parents and grandparents at work; tears and prayers and words of faith poured forth. I remember the face of one nine-year-old as she took it all in, wide-eyed. That morning brought what was private out into the open and left permanent marks on not a few children’s hearts.
This is why the Gospels point not only to Jesus’ mighty works and profound words, but also to his personal relationship with God. On some occasions he went alone into the hills to pray (Mark 1:35), and at other times he told his followers that they had to do the same (Mark 6:31). But more often than we realize, when Jesus was “alone” in prayer, his disciples were by his side: “Once when Jesus was praying in private and his disciples were with him” (Luke 9:18, italics added). Jesus made his spirituality visible. I am convinced that this explains the detailed Synoptic record of Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane (Matt. 26:36–46).
One of the chief things Jesus shows us in this prayer is God’s desire for relationships. That is, at this point in the Gospel it is clear to us that Jesus is God’s Son, but this means that he bears the presence of the Father in the world. He is not a courier sent from God, he is God-in-flesh. Yet within the personhood of God is a social dynamic, a desire for community, a yearning for conversation.24 Jesus talks at length to his Father, and we sense from his words that this is a conversation that has been going on for some time. One could expect from this divine Son a serene and silent tranquillity, a composure formed from his intimacy with God, not needing any social intercourse or expression. But this is precisely what we do not find. Jesus lives in a conversation with the Father. “Words” are the medium of their shared life together (17:8).
This means that as we are invited into life with the Father, as the Father and the Son indwell us through Holy Spirit, spirituality is not a static experience. It is not a creedal position or a status any more than a marriage can be described as a “vocation” or a status. Marriage is not defined as sharing the same address. Marriage is about transparency and intimate union and life as one. Marriage is a conversation. It is the same here. The Christian life is a conversation, a dynamic relationship in which, as a result of our new birth, the talking begins. God’s “word” now becomes the medium of our relationship too and with it, our talking develops an intimacy with profound social dimensions.
Jesus’ interests. Once Jesus’ prayer gets underway, we learn something about him and his interests. We gain insight into his attitudes toward God—attitudes worthy of emulation. For instance, it is clear (if it has not been manifestly clear since chapter 1) that Jesus is not simply a mortal messenger on earth. He is God’s Son, but this now has a definition we have not truly seen since the prologue: Jesus Christ, as the Word, has had a preincarnational life, just as he will enjoy a postincarnational life. In 17:5 and 24 Jesus acknowledges that he lived in the presence of God, enjoying divine glory before the world was made. This ties the prayer directly to 1:1–3 and places on Jesus’ lips the affirmation John gave at the start of the Gospel. No clearer language of preexistence is possible. Even Isaiah witnessed this glory (12:41).
However, in his prayer Jesus anticipates that after completing his work, he will return to that same status of glory he enjoyed once before. In other words, Jesus is returning—returning to a glory he enjoyed previously but which he set aside temporarily in order to minister on earth. To use spatial language, Jesus has “descended” and now will “ascend”—and the Incarnation consisted of his work in the interim. This Christological thinking parallels what Paul describes in Philippians 2:5–11. Jesus Christ possessed the form of God, yet rather than hold on to his equality with God, he emptied himself, incarnating himself in humanity and dying on the cross. As a result God has highly exalted him, glorifying him in heaven and on earth. Preexistence, descent, incarnation, ascent, glorification—like the swing of a pendulum. The Word (incarnate in Christ) is now returning to the elevation where he began.
This spiritual anticipation of return to heaven is precisely the orientation Jesus desires for us. “Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world” (17:24). Jesus not only is preparing a place for us (14:3) but is eager for us to join him there, to see his glory, to witness the tremendous love the Father has for him (and us).
We are invited, then, to reflect on what such a vision means in our own spiritual lives. How will it change our living and our praying if we fill our imaginations with such a vision? How will it change our investment in the world (while not denying our commitment to the world, 17:18) if we, like Jesus, are genuinely en route to the place of God’s glory? Christians are people in transit by train, with passports in hand, speeding through the countryside, talking to bystanders at the village platforms why they need to get on board. How will such a vision change our view of suffering? Of mission? Of ethics and evangelism? Of worldliness?
This leads to a related thought. What was the work Jesus “completed” (17:4) through this incarnation? What warranted this descent from glory, what assignment did he bear? Did he come just to die? Was his work on the cross his only vocation? Jesus understands as he prays this prayer that he has already accomplished much of what God had called him to do. The key lies here: Jesus’ saving work began in Bethlehem, not on Golgotha. The Incarnation, God’s union with our humanity, in itself was a saving deed. That is, by uniting with our humanity God not only made known who he was (revealing his glory) but also brought about the conditions to make Christ’s death efficacious and powerful for us all.
In Christ God has embraced us, expressing his genuine affection for us. He is not standing far off and announcing a way of salvation through a messenger. Rather, “in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself” (2 Cor. 5:19, NRSV, italics added). Jesus was God’s powerful agent of this union. Jesus prays, “I have done what you asked.” He has become one of us (1:14), having shown God to the world (1:18). In doing so he has brought the glory of God into the human sphere (1:14; 2:11; 11:40). Now he has only to bear this humanity to the cross.
This means we need to explore a new appreciation for what God has done in and through the Incarnation. We need to see the salvific dimensions of God-in-Christ. God has shown his love for us not simply in sending his Son to the cross, but in coming himself to be with us. The death of Christ is not the precondition of God’s love for us, as if we were despised by him, as if we had angered him, and only at the cross was his feeling toward us reversed. “God was in Christ reconciling the world” (ASV, italics added). Jesus did not come to change God’s mind; instead, he came to express God’s mind. If God so loved the world (3:16), he loved us too.
Among Jesus’ interests that appear in the prayer, one more should join the list. We can say that Jesus’ prayer really consists of only one prayer.25 In the Synoptic record it is, “Your will be done.” In John it is, “Father, the time has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you” (17:1). Jesus’ aim in life has been to glorify God, and this theme is repeated throughout. In 17:4 we see that this has been the goal of all his effort on earth: “I have brought you glory on earth by completing the work you gave me to do.”
The essence of this sort of prayer is that Jesus is so utterly dependent on the Father, so oriented toward what the Father wills, so desiring that God be glorified through his living and working, that it has controlled every aspect of his life. To live in association with God is to be set apart and be sanctified (17:19), to be his alone, and by virtue of this life to live in and reflect God’s glory. Living within this glory describes the life of Jesus in heaven (17:5, 24). Likewise, when Jesus enters humanity his ambition is to let the world see the glory of God still radiant within him. He wants to honor God’s glory—to show it visibly in his signs, to speak of it in his discourses, to announce it from the cross. Jesus’ life is a participation in the glory of God.
What is striking in the prayer is that Jesus draws us not only into a divine union of life and conversation, but he invites us into participation with the glory of God. “I have given them the glory that you gave me” (17:22). As Jesus turns in the prayer toward the life of his followers and the church that follows, his chief concern is that they too live a life that glorifies God, that they will exhibit in all of their worship, their words, and their work the same glory that Jesus exhibited on earth.
This is the essence of Jesus’ vision for the church. It is not a community that heals people just so that they will be whole (though healing is important); it is not a community that teaches so that people will be gratified by knowledge (though wisdom is valuable); it is not a community that evangelizes so that it will grow its ranks (though its mission to the world is crucial). The church is a community that invites people to touch the glory of God, to be changed by it, and to bear it to the world. “This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples” (15:8). Spiritual fruit is essentially that which glorifies God.
Such a concept forces us to ask hard questions about every aspect of what we do. “Is God glorified here?” is the refrain that should accompany every decision. And the answer will not always be obvious or easy. But it must be asked because in Jesus’ vision, this was the essential mission of his incarnate life and now is the essential mission of the church.
Jesus and the church. How does the church bear fruit that glorifies God? What things come to Jesus’ mind as he now thinks about our participation in the glory of God? What results will follow from such a life? Of course the thoughts outlined in chapter 17 must be supplemented by additional ideas taken from the balance of this Gospel (especially the Farewell Discourse) as well as the rest of the New Testament. But here I suggest four foundational elements that cannot be ignored—four basic roles that the church serves: transcendence, fellowship, teaching, and mission. Each of these is anchored in John 17.
(1) Transcendence. People are often looking for the reality of God. While modernity suggested that rationalism might well do away with religion, the postmodern world has proved just the opposite. Spiritual interest is everywhere today, and people will exercise it whether it is in a church, a mosque, or a New Age temple. This does not mean that they are looking for rational, religious certainties or the recitation of creed, nor does it refer to “religion” popularly built by choirs and pews and pulpits or by denominational structures. People are not “coming home” to Lutheranism or Presbyterianism or Methodism. They are seeking places where God seems present, where he can be felt, where spiritual ecstasy and mystical realities are commonplace occurrences.
The quality of worship is today of paramount concern to many. Witness, for instance, the successes of the Toronto Blessing in Canada, the charismatic movements in the United States and Europe, or Pentecostalism globally. Of the world’s 700 million evangelical Christians, fully 350 million are charismatic.26 And two-thirds of all Pentecostal Christians are found in Africa, Asia, and Latin America, where Christianity is growing at a fantastic rate.
Jesus prays that his followers will know just this sort of reality. Jesus prays that they will experience the indwelling of God brought about through the work of the Holy Spirit. The authenticity of this spirituality is found in the first instance is an experience of “otherness,” of a God who is not quantified in natural categories, whose presence is as real as his nature is foreign. This is what it means to possess the “name” of God (17:6, 26), to be indwelt by him (17:22), to experience his glory (17:22) and his holiness (17:16–17), and to be transformed by the truth (17:19). Those who know this experience are filled with joy (17:13) and enter into a life with God that they never knew before. This is what humanity is seeking today. The rationalists among us should not disparage this quest; it is a genuine gift that Jesus promises in his final discourse.
(2) Teaching. But religious quests must be anchored in the truth. Men and women intuit that there are as many false paths, many charlatans—from the dangerous Jim Jones cult (which in 1978 led to the mass suicide of 913 people in Guyana) to faith healers of every stripe to self-appointed prophets. Therefore the church must give guidance; it must anchor its experiences in the word of God given historically in the person of Jesus Christ (17:6, 14). Without the objective guidance of historic revelation, the church becomes a ship without a rudder.27 Jesus prays, “Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth” (17:17).
Such teaching means that seekers after God should grow in wisdom and knowledge as well as in experience. And the first thing such knowledge teaches is that any experience that departs from loyalty to Jesus Christ is mistaken. The Spirit of God never contradicts what has been given to us by Jesus Christ in history (16:13b). The church abides in the vine (15:1ff.); the church knows its shepherd’s voice (10:1ff.). The church always returns to “what was from the beginning” as it sorts out the meaning of its experiences today (1 John 1:1; 2:7, 13–14, 24; 3:8, 11; 2 John 1:5).
(3) Fellowship. Not only are people looking for transcendent spiritual experience and sound instruction, they are also looking for community. This is one of the recurrent themes of the close of the twentieth century. People feel alienated, lonely, and disconnected from place and kinship. Jesus prays that the church will be a genuine community of strong unity. Tracing the theme of unity through the chapter shows how much this subject weighs on Jesus’ mind (17:11, 21–23). If we continue to follow this theme in the letters of John, we see that the disunity of John’s church was not unlike the disunity we experience today. People live together in the name of Christ and then in his name contend for every manner of special interest. This explains why Jesus keeps repeating his “new commandment” that his followers love one another (13:34; 15:12, 17). Without an heroic love similar to Jesus’ love, unity is impossible.
Jesus’ prayer, however, links the unity of believers to their interior spiritual life. In 17:20–22 Jesus says that the oneness we experience with him should lead to a oneness we experience with one another. He has given us God’s glory so that we may be one (17:22). This is a remarkable thought. Does it imply that unity is not so much a byproduct of discussion and diplomacy as it is worship, repentance, and prayer? Does it mean that the degree to which we seek God together will assist us to find common ground in our lives together?
We understand unity. We at least know what we ought to do. The problem is that we also know that there are times when unity comes at a high cost. That is, when individuals have differences, unity can only be achieved when concessions are given and someone at last “gives way” so that the peace is restored. I remember being told by a leader in my own Presbyterian denomination that the unity of the church came before my heartfelt criticisms of same-sex marriage. “Would you split the church over this issue?” he asked. There it is: It may be that the pursuit of unity will lead to compromises we are unwilling to make.
(4) Mission. The church possesses a mission, a cause, just as Jesus had a mission in the world. The unity of the church and the quality of its life and experiences lead not only to the glory of God but to a powerful testimony to the world (17:22). Christians do the work of Christ in the world. They are his hands and feet, bringing the kingdom to reality wherever they go. This means that when the church experiences severe conflict from its adversaries (17:14), its unity with Christ and with its members will serve as a profound witness to its opponents. This has been the story of twentieth-century Christians from places such as Vietnam, India, Sri Lanka, Ethiopia, and Sudan. When confronted with severe persecution, the church’s unity so impressed its oppressors that many converted and joined its ranks.28
But another tension arises from this theme. As the church separates itself from the world, it begins to lose its ability to connect with those who are unbelievers living in the world. In other words, the pursuit of godliness may compromise the ability of the church to reach the world. In the former Soviet Union, for instance, pastor Sergei Nikolaev writes about what happened when the church was isolated for seventy-five years. They had lost a common language with secular Russians, and unbelievers felt as uncomfortable with Christians as Christians felt about those newcomers walking through their doors.29 The purity, holiness, and necessary separation of the church from the world is sometimes at odds with a church that has a mission of witness to the world. Christian leadership must discern with care where those boundaries are to be found.
These qualities of the church’s life—transcendence, teaching, fellowship, and mission—outline the essential things we seek and the things Jesus desires to see within his church. These are pillars on which any healthy congregation must be built. A consortium of independent charismatic churches in Great Britain has four organizational goals for every meeting: worship, word, welcome, and witness. When I have asked pastors what these really mean, I have discovered that they are the same. The church is to be an other-worldly community that experiences the supernatural God in power, that grounds itself in the word of God, that generates a family that nurtures its members, and that understands what it is to do for Christ in the world. Who can argue with a mandate like this?
I have kept this four-point outline in mind as I have worshiped in a variety of contexts. I have been in conservative churches where there has been tremendous teaching and a strong sense of community, but no transcendence. I have also been in churches with remarkable worship and little or no teaching.30 Still others are completely committed to praxis, to mission (either for social causes or evangelism), but there is little instruction in God’s Word or transcendent worship experiences. Each of us needs to examine the character of the communities we serve and to build and test them against the vision for his church Jesus offers in his final prayer.
Above all, this means that the church will have a quality of life that so stands out from what is available in the world that the world takes notice. And the world yearns for it. The key is that the church is not a creation of God that offers frivolous or useless gifts to the world. This may be the case when the church has lost its identity and has become a byproduct of the culture in which it lives. But the true church of Christ offers the world a priceless gift, something it seeks desperately. When Christians are one with Christ and one with each other, the growth of the church is virtually inevitable.