The Seventh Sunday of Easter - John 17:1-11 - The Rev. Colette Hammesfahr
May 17,
2026 - John 17:1-11
“Jesus looked up to heaven and said.” Today, we hear a
prayer from Jesus. It’s the eve of his crucifixion and just hours before his
betrayal and arrest. This prayer is at the conclusion of what we call The
Farewell Discourse – the final instructions and words of comfort Jesus gives to
his disciples. He is in the Upper Room in Jerusalem, following the Last Supper.
The prayer is the beginning of what is known as The High Priestly Prayer, the
longest recorded prayer of Jesus in the Bible. With him are the eleven
disciples – Judas has already left.
Jesus prays, “Father, the hour has
come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you.” “I glorified you on
earth,” now “glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your
presence.” “Glory” is a word we use a lot in our liturgy. We sing, “Glory to
God in the highest.” In the Eucharistic Prayer, we say, “All honor and glory is
yours, Almighty Father.” In the Sanctus, we sing, “Heaven and earth are full of
your glory.” In the Lord’s Prayer, we pray, “For thine is the kingdom, and the
power, and the glory.”
What does the word “glory” mean? I
think in our culture today, we define it much differently from what Jesus was
praying. Today, “glory” often means visibility, influence, admiration,
achievement, and winning. With the rise of social media, we can sometimes
define glory as the number of followers someone has, how many “likes” their
posts have, and whether something has gone “viral.” We live in a culture that
tells us to build a name for ourselves, to be successful, to have power and
prestige. In our modern world, “glory” usually means standing above others. Do
we think that’s what Jesus is referring to when he prays, “Glorify your Son so
that the Son may glorify you.”?
The film, A Hidden Life, is
a true story about Franz Jagerstatter. Franz is a quiet Austrian farmer who
refused to swear loyalty to Hitler during World War II. He’s not famous or
influential and not very charismatic. He’s an ordinary village farmer, a
husband, and a father. His family and friends tell him that his resistance to
Hitler is pointless. Who really cares what he thinks? Nobody’s going to notice.
The war is going to go on anyway. He should comply quietly like everyone else
in the village and make things easier on his family.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus is praying
about glory at the very moment when everything around him seems to be
collapsing. He’s getting ready to be betrayed and arrested. He’s going to go
through suffering, humiliation, and soon death. From the world’s perspective,
that is not glory. But Jesus prays, “I have glorified you on earth by finishing
the work you gave me to do.” Glory comes through faithfulness, not through
popularity, success, or outcome. The question for Franz was not, “Will I change
the outcome of the war?” The question was “What is faithful? What kind of
person am I called to be?” He’s not trying to become important. He’s simply
trying not to betray what he believes is true before God.
Because he doesn’t take an oath to
Hitler, Franz is arrested and put in prison. He’s now separated from his wife
and daughters. Instead of supporting his family, the people of his village turn
against them. Eventually, Franz is executed. From the world’s perspective, his
life looks like a failure. He doesn’t win. He doesn’t become powerful. He
doesn’t change the outcome of the war. But the film asks us a deeper question:
What if glory wasn’t measured by success but by faithfulness? What if our lives
become glorious not because the world admires us but because we reflect the
truth and love of God? Jesus is speaking of glory not in terms of worldly
victory but in terms of his faithfulness to the work God has given him to do. Jesus’
glory is revealed in costly love that remains faithful all the way to the end. Like
Franz, Jesus remains faithful not because faithfulness guarantees.
Maybe that is what Christian glory
really is—not making ourselves the center but allowing the light of God to
shine through us. A stained-glass window from the outside can look dark and
ordinary. No stained-glass window shines by itself at night. It does not shine on
its own. Its beauty is revealed only when light passes through it. Perhaps that
is what Jesus is praying about in John’s Gospel. Glory is not about drawing
attention to ourselves. Glory is about revealing the presence and character of
God. It is about becoming transparent enough that others can see Christ through
us.
We cannot always control results.
We cannot fix every problem. We cannot guarantee success. But we can decide
whether we live truthfully, love faithfully, and reflect the character of
Christ in the lives we have been given. The world tells us that glory means
being seen. But Christian glory means allowing the light of Christ to be seen
through us.
In this prayer, Jesus transforms
our understanding of glory. We expect glory to shine through success, power,
and victory. But John teaches us that glory shines through humility, sacrifice,
and love poured out for others. On the night before his betrayal, Jesus shows
us that even suffering and death cannot overcome the love of God. In Jesus, God
does not glorify suffering. God is glorifying love that remains strong through
suffering and remains faithful all the way to the end. Amen.
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