“But wait, there’s more...”

Easter 6A: John 14:12-21

Ron Popeil may not be a household name, but you’re probably familiar with his work. If you’ve ever stayed up late channel surfing, likely you’ve come across Popeil on one of his infomercials, excitedly pitching his kitchen gadgets on QVC or the Home Shopping Network. Popeil is the brain behind the Showtime Rotisserie & BBQ, and the Ronco Chop-O-Matic, Dial-O-Matic, and Veg-O-Matic food processors. More than an inventor, Popeil was a marketing personality and pop icon, known for such catchphrases as “set it and forget it,” “operators are standing by,” and the always enthusiastic, “But wait, there’s more...”

Coming as we are to the tail end of the Easter season, when it’s harder and harder to maintain excitement at the news of Jesus’ resurrection, John in the passage before us today channels Popeil, insisting, “But wait, there’s more,” more to Easter than the promise of our resurrection.

Today’s Gospel lesson picks up right where we left off last week. Jesus and the disciples are around the table for the Last Supper. Jesus has just announced he’s leaving. He’s going to the Father, he said, to prepare a place for them. Jesus tried to reassure them, insisting he’ll come back for them, but the disciples are horrified. Their leader had just announced that he’s going away, that this would be his last meal with them, that he was pouring out the last drop of his life for them. The disciples were understandably upset and confused. Their whole world, their hopes for the future, their trust in God’s plan, just fell apart. Even Jesus had trouble putting on a good face, to be honest. The Gospels all tell us that on this night, the night of his betrayal, Jesus was “troubled.” I’ll bet!

Often we hear of Jesus speaking and we imagine something like a lecture hall with attentive students taking notes from a sage professor. But here the scene is more like a Christmas eve dinner that started out fine but then exploded, when Dad used the occasion to inform the children that he was having an affair, that he was in love with another woman, and that he and Mom were getting a divorce for the good of all. At that dinner table there’d be tears, glassy eyed stares, confusion and disorientation almost too much to bear. The Upper Room that night was like that.

Seeing the still moist eyes, Peter’s quivering chin, Phillip looking as befuddled as anyone can be, Jesus speaks to them again in today’s lesson, offering not just words of assurance but a promise: “My friends, I’m not abandoning you. I will not leave you as orphans. Don’t be afraid. It’s going to be okay, really. I know this looks bad now—and part of it will be bad—but in the end I will be with you, in a way you cannot imagine right now. I’ll be with the Father, but you will have my Spirit, my own breath, my deepest essence with you.

The disciples did not understand what this meant then—and many Christians do not understand it today—but Jesus’ death and resurrection is not the sum total of God’s action. To be sure, Easter is the climax, the critical event, the pivotal moment, but it is not the end of the story. Wait, there’s more! Easter rather marks not the conclusion, but the beginning of a new chapter, a new era, a new epoch characterized not just by resurrection, but also by the power of Christ’s Spirit present amongst us.

I know we are still a few weeks away from Pentecost, when we commemorate the coming of the Holy Spirit upon the disciples, but here we see how even before his death, Jesus is thinking about those he is leaving behind, making provision for them in his absence. He’s leaving, but he’ll still be with them, with us, in the ways that matter most, in fact in a way that is even more profound and intimate than the way he has been with them to this point. He is sending the Holy Spirit, Christ’s own Spirit amongst us, who will be with us, unto the end of the age.

The word Jesus uses here to refer to the Spirit is an unusual word. It’s only used in John’s gospel. He calls the Spirit “the paraclete.” Preachers love to make silly jokes about this, likening the Holy Spirit to a song bird or to footwear for athletes, but paraclete means in Greek “one who comes alongside.” Such a person is one who serves as a “helper,” which is how paraclete is often translated. This Spirit, we understand, will be an aid to us, lending assistance in our various tasks. The Spirit comes to help, to enable, to empower God’s people to do what we have to do, to live for God and to witness to his love in the world.

But that is not the only association that the word carries. Another translation is “comforter.” Hearing that word today, we might imagine the Spirit as one who wraps us in softness and warmth, like a bed comforter. Perhaps the Spirit feels that way sometimes, but that’s not what that word is trying to get at. “Comforter” in this sense is someone who literally comes to fortify, to strengthen us in hard times. Have you ever noticed how, when someone is deeply distressed, after a bereavement or a tragedy, the fact of having people with them, hugging them and sitting with them, gives them strength for the next moment, then the one after that, and the one after that? Outwardly, nothing has changed. The loss is still a loss, the tragedy is still a tragedy. But the human support changes our ability to cope with disaster. It gives us strength. When the Spirit is spoken of as the “comforter,” this kind of extra strength to meet our needs is what we should have in mind.

But there’s a further sense that paraclete carries, that of “advocate.” Advocate is a legal term. It means one who stands up in court and pleads their client’s case before the judge or jury, defending them and making the best argument for their side. Jesus knows that his followers will, like himself, often be on the wrong side of the law and of public opinion, and so will find themselves before the court. In such situations, the Spirit will advocate for us, giving us words we need to witness to the truth, “to give an account of the hope that is in us,” to use the words of 1 Peter we just read.

But more is implied here. The Spirit is our Advocate not only before earthly judges but before the heavenly court where God is judge. In that court, Jesus’ followers can rest assured that our case will be heard, that God will constantly be reminded of our plight, because the Spirit will plead on our behalf.

There is a lot that is wrapped up in that term, paraclete, and the promise that Jesus is sending the Spirit, his Spirit, to be with us. It just shows how God hasn’t stop acting after Easter. Jesus is risen from the dead, trampling death by death and giving life to those in the tombs. It’s amazing, joyous news. But Jesus says today, “But wait, there’s more…”

Indeed, the purpose of the Spirit is not just to be our consolation in Jesus’ absence, to give us a blankie (comforter) to hold in our anxiousness. Jesus intends the Spirit to carry on his work, to continue the task he began, to bring Jesus’ followers, the Church, into his mission. “Anyone who trusts in me,” he says, “will also do the works that I am doing.” The disciples in Jesus’ day were sometimes able to do remarkable things, like heal the sick. But now by the Spirit, we Christians will be able to do all kinds of remarkable things, “even greater works” than what Jesus did, he promises.

We hear “greater works” and we may immediately think of the miraculous, of the stories we’ve heard or read, about miracles the saints have performed—supernatural healings, commanding natural elements, bringing people back from the dead, foretelling the future. But the works Jesus has mind aren’t limited to the miraculous. They encompass works which are less flashy but nevertheless monumental, such as spreading the Gospel around the globe, transforming empires through acts of grace and mercy, building institutions which instantiate the truth of the Gospel into society and culture, remaking the arts into means of expressing the beauty of God. These may not be spectacular but their impact is more profound, widespread, and enduring.

And then there’s the smaller, humbler, yet still remarkable acts that each of us is able to do because of the Spirit— daring to speak of Jesus in a hostile crowd, standing up for truth and righteousness in our work and communities, resisting social pressure and not being intimidated by threats, suffering unjustly as a witness to others. 1 Peter has a lot to say about that last one. Point is, whether we are talking about works that are great and miraculous or that are smaller and more mundane, we are able to do them on account of the Spirit, Jesus’ presence in his absence.

Dare I say it, But wait there’s more…Jesus makes several more promises, astounding promises, to his followers here. One is, “If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.” At first blush, Jesus sounds like he’s offering us a blank check: just add “in Jesus’ name” to your prayers, and you’ll get whatever you want, no matter how stupid, selfish or hurtful it is. But of course that’s not what Jesus means here. Jesus is not our heavenly butler. Praying “in Jesus’ name” is not just about our words, but our heart, our intentions. As we get to know who Jesus is, we find ourselves drawn into his life and love and mission. “You in me, I in you,” he says. We begin to see what needs doing, what role we may have within our spheres of interest, and what we’ll need to do it. So, when we then ask, it will be “in Jesus’ name” and to his glory.

This helps to explain what Jesus means when he speaks in the next verse about keeping his commandments. He says, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” At first take, Jesus sounds like an insecure and manipulative boyfriend or girlfriend: “If you loved me, then you’d do what I’m asking of you to do.” But of course that’s not where Jesus is coming from. He’s coming rather from the understanding that loving him, as I’ve said, is to be drawn into his life, into his work and his way of being in the world. We recognize more and more what is Jesus' will, what is in accord with the way of Jesus, and want to be part of it.

Jesus doesn’t expect blind obedience. In fact, he didn’t say to “obey” his commandments, but to “keep” them. “Keep” them, not in the sense of a keepsake sitting in a display case, to be admired but never used, but in the sense of treasuring them, seeking them, striving for them and championing them above all others. “Keeping his commands” thus is not about following a bunch of rules, fulfilling the letter of the law, but about being shaped by his Spirit. Jesus’ Spirit doesn’t issue rules, rather it leads us, calls us to join in what Jesus is doing.

<Sigh> It’s a lot, I know. Just when you thought you were coming to the end of the road, that we were running out of things to say about Easter, Jesus comes and gives his best Popeil impression, announcing, “But wait, there’s more…” Easter is about more, so much more, than going to heaven when we die, or even getting resurrected when Jesus returns. It’s about the promise of a deep, meaningful, holy, and Spirit-led life, here and now. It’s about knowing Christ, loving him, sharing in his life in a way that Jesus is present to us, revealed among us and shared with others. At Easter God did something amazing, astounding, earth-shattering, raising Jesus from the dead. But Jesus insists there’s more…more to Easter, more to what God is doing, more to what he wants us to be a part of. For that we say, Thanks be to God!