Permanent Learners--June 13, 2025

Permanent Learners--June 13, 2025

 [Jesus said to his disciples:] “I have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you." (John 14:25-26)

Truth be told, you'll never graduate from the church. All complaints about how kids sometimes disappear from worship after their confirmation day or when they get into their teenage years, you really never "graduate" from the life of the church.  You may or may not keep coming to worship or participating in church activities, but you never graduate--as in, you will never have mastered all there is to be known, understood, enacted, and shared about the Christian life.  We are never finished; we have never had the last lesson.  We are, in other words permanent learners, perennial students, which is really what it means to be disciples of Jesus.  As we consider this season what it means to be "on the edge of discipleship," we should be clear about that at the outset.  We will never be done learning, growing, practicing, and soaking in the way of Jesus.

These words from John's Gospel, which many of us heard this past Sunday, make that abundantly clear, don't they?  Here, on Jesus' final evening with his circle of disciples before his arrest and the looming cross, you might think this is the time for graduation hoopla and valedictory speeches. This might be the time for Jesus to tell his disciples that they now know everything he has to tell them and they're on their own, or at least to give them a sense that their training is now complete.  They will, after all, be sent out into the world before very long and will become teachers and evangelists in their own right, leading others to follow in the Jesus way, too.  You might at least expect Jesus to say, "I've graded your final exams, and you're deemed proficient to teach the faith to others now. You know enough to be on your own now."

Instead, Jesus makes plans for how they will continue to learn, and even beyond that, how they will continue to be reminded of what Jesus has already told them (but which we are apt to forget if left to our own devices). Yes, Jesus has spent much of his time with the disciples teaching them a whole way of life, like any rabbi would do--but since Jesus knows that soon the militarized police and their deputized brute-squad will be on their way in a matter of mere hours to round him up, he lets his students know their learning will continue by the Spirit's tutelage.  "The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you," he tells them.  In other words, the cross does not stop the disciples from continuing to learn, and Jesus doesn't seen this moment as an endpoint for their discipleship.  They will continue to learn, and so God, by the Spirit will continue to teach.

It's rather humbling if you think about it that Jesus sees even these guys--who had literally seen miracles and listened at Jesus' feet as the parables and stories were shared--still have more to learn. Of course, then, we will need to continue to grow and learn in our own discipleship.  We don't get to put a period where God intends to put a comma, and that is true of our ongoing growth in faith and deepening of our discipleship.   We are never "done," any more than you can get to infinity, no matter how long you keep counting.

The temptation for us is to imagine that once we have memorized a few Bible verses, know the Apostles' Creed by heart maybe, and have gone through the ranks of Sunday School through childhood, then we don't have anything more to learn from Jesus. It's easy then for us to check out mentally and to presume Jesus has no more surprises up his sleeve, no more insights to give, and no further ways of challenging us.  We can tell ourselves, "I know the Readers' Digest version of this Christianity, so I can pretty much just go on autopilot from here," and then proceed to face the challenges at work, issues of the day, struggles in our family, and surprises of life as though we can just respond with our gut impulses and no further guidance.  It's easy for us to say, "I know the plot points of the Creed, and they offer no specific instructions for how I spend my money, treat my neighbor, or view the world, so I'll just figure out those things on my own..."  In other words, we are great at fooling ourselves into believing that we don't still need God's direction to face the open questions or challenges of our lives, but rather than Christianity is an academic subject you can master like memorizing your state capitals (and then promptly forgetting them once the test is done).

Jesus doesn't let us off the hook that way.  He doesn't think that we ever get to a point of knowing it "all," and maybe for that matter, the Christian faith isn't reducible to a finite list of facts to memorize or propositions to believe.  Jesus seems to think it is a lifelong commitment to his own particular kind of love, justice, truth-telling, humility, and courage--and that cannot be summed up in a lesson or a book. It requires a companion on the journey of our whole lives--which is exactly how Jesus speaks of the Spirit.  The Spirit is the One who accompanies each of us--and all of us together--and who leads us to ask new and deeper questions, to take fresh risks in loving others, to embody the way of Jesus in new situations, and to refresh in us what we have allowed to grow stale.  That doesn't ever reach a finish line, because life keeps raising up new things to deal with, new wonders to explore, and new insights to process. We should be honest here: if we are followers of Jesus, then we are signed up for a lifetime as permanent learners.

I wonder what would happen if we saw ourselves, not as "experts" or "graduates" who have moved on from learning, but as constant disciples who are always being taught new things and being brought to deeper wonder as the Spirit directs, guides, and points. I suspect we would be both humbled and awed all the time, and we would see every day as full of possibilities to grow and learn.  That sounds like a better way to face my life, don't you think?

So here's to whatever the Spirit will teach us today--may we be ready to hear, to learn, and to take it to heart.

O Holy Spirit, keep reminding us of the way of Jesus, and keep surprising us with new things to learn and new ways to grow.