"Saying Goodbye is Hard"

A very wise woman recently reminded me that saying goodbye is hard. And I think today's readings reflect this. In the first reading from Acts, the apostles say goodbye to Jesus as he ascends into heaven. And in the gospel, Jesus says goodbye to his apostles through prayer.

Last summer, I said goodbye to my dear friend, Inger. I met Inger when she was well into her nineties. A very perceptive pastor matched us for lay visitation and we became fast friends. I visited her most Wednesdays for three years. Each week, we'd share a pastry - she'd nibble on one and then insist that I take the whole plate home for the kids - and we'd tell stories and pray. My kids loved "Inger Days" because I came home refreshed, lighter, and they'd get pastries. Inger and I shared communion each week and at the end of the Lord's Prayer, we would say "For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever and ever and ever and ever!" and laugh setting the stage for a truly joyful sharing of the Eucharist. Inger taught me how to receive and share Christ with a grateful and cheerful heart. I don't think I'll ever be able to say the Lord's Prayer again without that sense of delight at the end.

Last summer, I visited Inger and she said goodbye. Inger had been very ready to, in her words, "meet the Lord" for a long time but this visit she was tearful and a little scared. She perceived that her time was near and I noticed that her breathing was a little different. We cried together, overwhelmed with gratitude for one another's friendship. We prayed together, leaning on Scripture and the Spirit to seek comfort in the unknowing. We talked about the next life and who might be there waiting for her to finally come home. We lamented how much she would be missed when she was gone, sharing assuring stories about how her family would be ok. And then, just like any other week, we joyfully shared communion (this time with some tears mixed in) and I went home with a plate of pastries for the kids. Inger died of a heart attack just a couple of days later. I really miss her.

When I got the news that Inger had died, I happened to be at Cub Scout camp with my son. I went and found an abandoned picnic table and turned my face to the sky, thanking God for her friendship and praying that her family may find peace. Do you ever do that? Instinctively turn your gaze up to the heavens to pray? Close your eyes, feel the Spirit's breeze on your face, and take a deep breath to restore balance and find God? I think it's notable that in both the Acts reading and the gospel from today, there is turning towards heaven. Did you notice that?

In the Acts reading, the disciples literally watch Jesus ascend out of their sight. And I think it must've been really hard to see. Luke, whom scholars agree authored Acts, tells us that while the disciples were standing there with their faces turned toward heaven, angels came and basically told them to cut it out. It feels a little harsh but I wonder if they had been there a long time. I wonder if they were immobilized by their loss, if they were stuck in the goodbye. I wonder if the angels were telling them that searching the sky for what is no longer there is not the legacy that Jesus left them. Before ascending, Jesus had just told them, "you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." (Acts 1:8, NSRV) In other words, Jesus tells them to trust that the Spirit is coming and compels them to move, to share the good news with everyone "to the ends of the earth". That's pretty hard to do if you're standing there looking up at the sky.

And in the gospel from John, which comes from the last chapter of Jesus's long Farewell Discourse before he's sentenced to die, Jesus looks up to heaven to pray. Now, today's gospel starts with "After Jesus had spoken these words ..'.' I never understand why the lectionary curators do that. Aren't you wondering, "What words?" Well, I'll tell you. Just before Jesus turns his face towards heaven to pray, he says to his disciples, "The hour is coming, indeed, it has come, when you will be scattered, each one to his home, and you will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone because the Father is with me. I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!" (John 16: 32-33, NSRV). In other words, Jesus tells them to trust that Jesus will never be alone. He's ok. Jesus tells them that life is going to be hard but instructs them to trust that, through the love of Christ, the pain, sorrow, and hardships of this world will not prevail. I think he's telling the disciples not to get stuck in the goodbye but to find peace in the love that Jesus's life made possible. And to go do something with it.

Then after saying all he has to say to his disciples, Jesus turns his face to heaven and prays out loud. Clearly he wants his disciples to hear his prayer and learn from it. Now, I don't know about you but when I first read the gospel reading, I got tripped up with all the "glory"s and "glorified"s. Sometimes I wonder if the translators just needed a good thesaurus. The First Nations Version of the New Testament translates those words as "honor" in ways that, I think, steer us away from "glory"'s modern meanings of fame and praise but reflect the goodness and virtue that Jesus brought to the world. In the First Nations Version, Jesus prays, "I have brought you honor on earth by finishing the work you sent me to do. It is now time, my Father, for you to honor me with the beauty I shared at your side before you created all things." (John 17:4-5, FNV) You probably noticed that I asked David to include the entire gospel reading from the First Nations Version so you can see what rm talking about. I encourage you to read it and let me know what you think.

And once we cut through the confusing language, we can see that Jesus's final prayer, said in front of his disciples, is his last love letter. It's his goodbye. I wonder if he said it tearfully. I imagine he did. Jesus's plea to God is that those who know him, who love him, and those who have yet to encounter him know the overabundant love of God. He expresses gratitude for the gift of belonging in and among his followers. He hopes for the love of the community to keep expanding through shared tenderness, friendship, and mutual aid. He asks God to protect them as one collective heart and teaches them to turn their faces to the sky and trust that God is there with them.

I think the readings from today teach us how to say goodbye. How to grieve while still fully living. In his prayer, Jesus asks God to give us all eternal life. But I like Australian theologian Mary Coloe's use of "eternity life" instead of "eternal life" to mean an entirely different way of being instead of an elongation of what we know to be life¹. I don't think that Jesus is communicating an endless continuation of this life with the notion of "eternal life" but rather a transformative existence in this life, right here right now. I think the angels come to the disciples in Acts who are stuck looking into the sky, dreaming about what lies on the other side of that threshold in order to remind them to be present in the here and now. To remind them to pray now, to hold one another now, to trust that the Holy Spirit is coming in this life, not the next one.

And similarly, Jesus defines what he means by "eternal life" in his goodbye. In the First Nations Version, he describes it as "the life of the world to come that never fades away, full of beauty and harmony" (John 17:2, FNV). When he talks about the life to come, I think perhaps Jesus is talking about the transformative existence that is to come after the crucifixion and resurrection, and not a life in an otherworldly realm. It is a life "on earth as it is in heaven" (Matt. 6:10, NSRV) to quote the Lord's Prayer. The disciples will be forever changed after the loss of their beloved friend and teacher. In his goodbye, Jesus promises his disciples then and us today that our minds and hearts will open in ways that feel impossible. He promises that the ways of the world - the injustice, persecution, pain, and adversity - will not triumph. Jesus assures us that something far greater, an eternity life bound in love and existing in peace is ours if we want it.

Goodbyes are hard. They can forever change how one perceives reality for both the one leaving and the one staying. They can be scary, confusing, and so, so painful. But I think Jesus wants us not to get stuck in the goodbye. I don't mean to imply that we should just "get over'' grief. Grief forever changes us. But I think he's teaching us how to say goodbye in love and gratitude while still holding on to a yearning for something different. I think he's saying that the goodbye can't be the end - it is a turning point that changes everything but it is not the conclusion to the story. When we let it be the end and get stuck there, then we aren't fulfilling Jesus's promise for "eternity life", God's dream for each of God's beloved children-you, and me, and us in community. And, when we don't know what else to do, when we've said all the goodbyes we can muster, we can turn our faces to the sky and pray. Reaching out to God, reminding ourselves that God's is the kingdom, the power, and the glory. Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever!

Amen

¹ Sanders, Cody J. "Commentary on John 1?:1-ll." Working Preacher from Luther Seminary, March 9, 2026. https:/ / www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/ revised-common-lectionary/ seventh-sunday-of-easter/commentary-on-john-171-11-7.

Saying Goodbye is Hard