Tuesday, May 5, 2026

Troubled Hearts -- Fifth Sunday of Easter

John 14:1-14

May 3, 2026

 

            I’m going to start my sermon today doing something that I have never done before. And that is not exaggeration on my part. I’m starting today’s sermon by asking you all a question. This is not rhetorical. I hope that some of you will consider giving me an answer. It’s your turn to talk during the sermon.

            What troubles your hearts?

            I realize that I am putting you on the spot, so to give you some time to think about this, I will tell you what troubles my heart. As a mom, I worry about our kids. Even though they are all adults, I still worry. I worried when they were little, and that worry has only grown as they have. But I also worry about the world’s children. It is unfathomable to me how many children suffer needlessly, and to me it is unconscionable. It is unconscionable to me that adults will terrorize children to terrorize adults. And it is not just children in war zones. We cannot deny that in our own country, in our own neighborhoods there are children who are suffering, who are hungry, who do not know from one day to the next what their life will look like. This reality troubles my heart. It hurts my heart. It breaks my heart.

            So what about you? (long pause to let folks answer)

            Again, I know I’ve put all of you on the spot. If you didn’t want to speak up, that’s okay. But I encourage you to think about this question and consider letting me know later. I do want to know what troubles your heart.

            Troubled hearts begin our passage this morning. In verse 1, Jesus encourages the disciples not to have troubled hearts. But why would the disciples’ hearts be troubled in the first place? The answer to this goes back to the beginning of chapter 13. Chapter 13 is where we find our story for Maundy Thursday every year. In this chapter, Jesus shares a final meal with his disciples. At this meal, he washes the disciples’ feet, and that includes the feet of Judas. Jesus, who knows what Judas is about to do, sends him out to get it over with. Judas does just that. He leaves the table, the community to betray Jesus. Jesus gives those remaining his new commandment to love one another as he has loved them, through service and acts of compassion and kindness. And Jesus predicts Peter’s denial of him even as Jesus is preparing to be crucified. And now it looks as though everything that Jesus has told them would come to pass is coming to pass.

            It is no surprise then that the disciples’ hearts are troubled. My heart would be troubled as well. Chapters 13 through 17 of John’s gospel are known in theological terms as The Farewell Discourse. Jesus is telling his closest followers goodbye. He tells them that he is going to his Father’s house, a house that is roomy and spacious and is large enough for all of them. But that does not seem to register, because even though he has been preparing them for this moment, now that the moment is here, they are struggling to come to grips with what is about to happen. Jesus is leaving them. Jesus is leaving them.

            This is John’s gospel, and typically the disciples as portrayed by John are not quite as clueless as they are in the other three. But in this critical moment, they cannot see beyond their own fears and anxieties. They cannot see beyond their own troubled hearts.

            Thomas says to Jesus,

            “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

            And Jesus responds,

            “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

            If they know Jesus, and they do know Jesus, then they also know God. But Philip wants more.

            “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.”

            But Jesus, with infinite patience, says,

            “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.”

            In other words, believe me. Trust me. Believe and trust in God and believe and trust also in me. You have been with me all this time. You have witnessed my healings; you have heard my teaching and preaching. We have created a relationship that goes beyond teacher and students. We now call each other friends. I have shown you what it is to love one another and to love this world. So, trust me. Believe me.

            But belief and trust, even when, maybe especially when, it comes to faith, can be challenging. And the disciples are clearly challenged by Jesus’s words and by everything that Jesus has told them lies ahead for him. We believe what we can see, and we trust what we know. And even though the disciples have experienced Jesus up close and personal, they are struggling to believe. If they struggled to trust, than it’s no wonder that we do.

            I think our very human trust issues have led to this passage being traditionally interpreted as exclusionary and narrow. When it comes to Jesus, you are either in or you are out. He said he was the gate after all. That must mean that the gate is about closing off people rather than opening. I don’t really want this sermon to wander off into universalism, but I do wonder if there is more to what Jesus is saying to them than what we have previously considered.

            When Jesus says he is the way, is he speaking only about a road or a path? Or is he also speaking about behavior, how we live and act and be in the world? As I said, in the previous verses he showed the disciples what he meant by loving, and that was to wash their feet. To love was to serve, to love was to do for others. Love was about being and acting with kindness and compassion and being willing to serve rather than expect service. And the truth and the life? They are connected to the way as well. The more we love, the more we see that love is at the heart of God’s creation and God’s relationship with us and the world, then the more fully we understand the truth that Jesus spoke of. And when we can more fully love, aren’t we more fully living?

The more we see that Jesus is the way and the truth and the life, our relationship with him becomes deeper and stronger. And the more our relationship with him deepens, the more our relationship with others deepens. The deeper the relationship, the deeper the trust.

            There is another key point in verse 1 that is not clear in our English translations. In English, we read, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” The word hearts is translated in the plural, just as we assume the your is plural. But in Greek, it is only the your that is plural. The word for heart is singular. Your is plural. But heart is singular. What does that indicate? Jesus was speaking to all the disciples about their one heart, their collective heart. Clearly, this is not literal. We all have our own physiological hearts, but in this context, Jesus is speaking about their collective heart in community, in relationship. Do not let your collective heart be troubled. You are in this together, just as we have been in this together. So, believe me.

            At the beginning of this sermon, I asked you to share what troubles your hearts. And whether you answered out loud or not, you may have been thinking about your individual troubles; your individual concerns and worries. There’s nothing wrong with that. We all do it. But the truth is, we come together in this place because we are a community together. We share a heart. So my troubles are your troubles and your troubles are my troubles. My joy is your joy and your joy is mine. Jesus came to be in relationship with others, with us. But those relationships were built and deepened in community. They were not isolated. They were not about one individual above another. They were in community. When Jesus forgives Peter for his denial at the end of John’s gospel, he also forgives him in community. Peter, if you love me, feed my sheep.

            The thing is, our faith is not meant to be privatized. It’s not just about my relationship with Jesus or your relationship with Jesus. Our faith deepens and grows and flourishes in the communion of the body of Christ. Yesterday at the presbytery meeting, we were reminded by a speaker that the church is not an organization, it is an organism. It is a living thing. This is true for congregations and this is true for the Church with a capital C. We are part of the living body of Christ in this world. Living organisms exist in relationship, in community. We are in community. We bear a collective heart.

            It seems to me that if we see each other and our community and this world as sharing one heart, that changes everything. There is no longer an “us” and there is no longer a “them.” Our hearts break together and our hearts rejoice together too.

            Jesus told the disciples that God’s house, God’s heart was roomy and generous and big enough for all. May our hearts, our heart, be as big as God’s. May our hearts, our heart, expand beyond these walls, beyond the boundaries of town or state or country, to share the troubles and the joys of all God’s children.

            And let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.”

            Amen.

 

                       

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