Pastor Cogan

What Kind of Relationship

John 15:9-17

[Jesus continued…] “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.

‘This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants* any longer, because the servant* does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.

You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.”


It was 2012, the evening of Easter. I was a senior in high school. Katelyn had spent the day with me and my family going to church and then for Easter lunch. We had been spending a lot of time together, we both knew there was interest, but we (or perhaps more accurately I) still thought we were in the talking phase, still figuring things out. As we got in the car, I could tell something was wrong, so I asked. And I’m not sure I was ready for the response: so what are we, Cogan? We’ve gone on dates now, I spend all day with your family, what are we? Ah, the moment had come. Time to define the relationship. I was headed to Valpo in the fall while Katelyn would finish her senior year. Would we continue? Or at least try? What kind of relationship was this?

Maybe you’ve been there and had a similar conversation. Defining the relationship happens in the liminal space between acquaintance and closeness. It is a mark of intimacy and trust that was not in the relationship before. This conversation happens because someone in the relationship feels like they aren’t on the same page as the other and there’s a need for clarification.

Or a fast approaching change spurs on the conversation like graduation or moving. And its usually a difficult conversation to have: it risks vulnerability, rejection, but it also could result in deeper companionship and love. We always hear and maybe even say it ourselves that faith, Christianity is about a relationship with Jesus. And that’s true it is, even if you don’t often use or feel the most comfortable with that language. But what kind of relationship is it?

We have all kinds of relationships: think about the varying kinds with your family, or colleagues, or neighbors, or friends. I have a relationship with my neighbor Jo that consists mostly of friendly waves. I have a relationship with Clive, my son, which also has friendly waves. But these relationships are not the same. So what kind of relationship do we share with Jesus? Luckily, he tells us what kind in this passage today.

Toward the end of dinner with his disciples, Jesus thinks it's time to define the relationship. Nothing like a crucifixion to force the conversation. However, Jesus doesn’t really do the DTR the way relationship experts and their articles say. Usually, it’s not a good idea for one person to state what the relationship was and then proclaim it to be something different. It’s something best done or decided on together through Communication, questions, and active listening. Jesus does none of that. Instead, Jesus informs the disciples that their relationship was a master/slave relationship.

In the time of Jesus, master/slave relationships were marked by command, ignorance, and obedience. The master said what to do. The slave, not knowing the details of the task he was doing, simply obeyed out of fear of punishment. This according to Jesus was the one-way relationship between him and his disciples. But something changed. “No longer are you slaves”, Jesus says, “you are my friends.” And ever since these words were written, people have been arguing over what they mean. Some say Jesus didn’t really make them “friends”.

The disciples are still servants, but the good kind, no longer motivated by fear, but motivated out of a desire to make the master happy. But I don’t think that’s the case. Rather, Jesus’ statement is clearly one of manumission, release from slavery, and freedom into a new kind of relationship, namely friendship.

And they are friends because of the knowledge Jesus has shared with them. He’s told them everything he has received from God about his mission and ministry on earth, his death and resurrection, his plan of redemption for the whole world. And the disciples will remain friends if they do what Jesus commands.

Now you might say, “I thought that giving commands was a marker of the old master/slave, one-way relationship. Why can Jesus still give commands to the disciples if they are friends and does it work the other way around? Can the disciples give commands of Jesus?

If we think about our own relationships, we know that servitude is not incompatible with friendship. No, it's quite the opposite, they often go hand in hand. And the more intimate the relationship, the more commands are given. If Katelyn, my wife but also my best friend, says the grass is tall, mow the yard, I better do it for the good of the relationship. Notice it wasn't a suggestion “you should mow the yard”, it wasn’t a question “Can you mow the yard?” It was a command. One that by the intimacy of our relationship she is able to make and I ought to obey.

What does any of this mean for our relationship with Jesus? Jesus has defined the relationship not only for him and his disciples but for us, too. Jesus has made us friends, ones so close that he can give commands and expect us to do them. And the command he gives is this, “love one another I have loved you”. Keep in mind we hear this passage in the season of Easter, meaning we know how Jesus loved. He loved them so much he gave his life for them and us. So when Jesus gives this command to love and sacrifice, he’s not asking us to do something that he hasn’t already done for us.

But what about us commanding Jesus? Yes, I think we have that right. Look at the Psalms or Moses, who give commands and imperatives to God often. Yet, at the same time, Jesus need not obey the same way we do. This friendship between us and Jesus, isn’t quite equal. How could it be? However, we do have something to add to the relationship. When Jesus says you are my friends if you keep my commandments, it’s an invitation to respond to the love, sacrifice, and friendship Jesus so freely gives to us by having friends. It is a part of our Christian calling then to make and be friends, to love one another, and to make sacrifices for their wellbeing. This kind of friendship, John tells us, gives Glory to God and great joy to me and you.

And the reality is, we need friends now more than ever. A report from the surgeon general just last year called loneliness and isolation an epidemic in this country. Americans are spending more time alone than ever before. The Cigna loneliness survey found that nearly 60% of people in the U.S. report feeling lonely on a regular basis.

And while our young people are hyper connected virtually, 16-24 year old’s reported feeling isolated at a staggering 73%, the highest percentage of any group. And the effects of such loneliness are severe.

Dr. Vivek Murthy the surgeon general of the US writes, Loneliness “is far more than just a bad feeling. "It is associated with a greater risk of cardiovascular disease, dementia, stroke, depression, anxiety, and premature death.” Being socially disconnected is nearly as bad for your health as smoking a pack a day, believe it or not. Not to mention the stress it puts on the already torn social fabric rippling across our communities right now too.

So take the risk. Make friends and be friends. I’m not saying this is easy, especially the kind of friendship Jesus is calling us to. It’s risky, it may require hard conversation, and if we do it right, it means sacrifice. But we are all better because of it.

After all, we get by with a little help from our friends. Amen


Holy Curiosity

Acts 8:26-40

Then an angel of the Lord said to Philip, ‘Get up and go towards the south* to the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza.’ (This is a wilderness road.) So he got up and went. Now there was an Ethiopian eunuch, a court official of the Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, in charge of her entire treasury. He had come to Jerusalem to worship and was returning home; seated in his chariot, he was reading the prophet Isaiah. Then the Spirit said to Philip, ‘Go over to this chariot and join it.’ So Philip ran up to it and heard him reading the prophet Isaiah. He asked, ‘Do you understand what you are reading?’ He replied, ‘How can I, unless someone guides me?’ And he invited Philip to get in and sit beside him. Now the passage of the scripture that he was reading was this:
‘Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter,
and like a lamb silent before its shearer,
so he does not open his mouth.
In his humiliation justice was denied him.
Who can describe his generation?
For his life is taken away from the earth.’

The eunuch asked Philip, ‘About whom, may I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?’ Then Philip began to speak, and starting with this scripture, he proclaimed to him the good news about Jesus. As they were going along the road, they came to some water; and the eunuch said, ‘Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?’ He commanded the chariot to stop, and both of them, Philip and the eunuch, went down into the water, and Philip* baptized him. When they came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away; the eunuch saw him no more, and went on his way rejoicing. But Philip found himself at Azotus, and as he was passing through the region, he proclaimed the good news to all the towns until he came to Caesarea.


We are all losers, at least that’s what it feels like for most of us. Before you pie me, let me explain! Back in February, Pew Research Center, a nonpartisan organization that conducts public opinion polls on everything from politics to religion, science and more, released updated findings on how folks feel like their side in politics is doing.

And according to that multiyear study, less than a quarter of Americans feel like their side is winning on issues that matter to them. Which means that the rest of us, the vast majority of us, feel like we are losing. No wonder public dialogue, political discourse, or even talking with a neighbor or coworker feels so embittered and tense. Most of us feel like we are fighting a losing battle. In reality though what we are all losing to is tribalism.

Tribalism is the instinct to gather and connect with people who are similar in all sorts of ways: beliefs, interests, experiences, and more. Our tribe tells us who we are, what we’re supposed to do, and what we believe. Now this is not necessarily a bad thing. Having a community that helps give us identity, that surrounds us and supports us is very important.

But tribalism becomes treacherous when it tells us who we should fear. We can so closely identify with our tribe that anyone who is different becomes a threat.

It is dangerous then when a tribe says, “Watch out for them. They aren’t like us. They are trying to take things from you, they only want to hurt you. They are the cause of your problems, of our problems. Be very afraid of them. Be afraid of the democrats. Be afraid of the republicans.

Be afraid of people who are transgender or who do drag. Be afraid of progressives or fundamentalist. Be very afraid.”

Sharon Brous, a rabbi in Los Angeles, writes that “One of the great casualties of tribalism is curiosity. And when we are no longer curious, when we don’t try to imagine or understand what another person is thinking or feeling or where her pain comes from, our hearts begin to narrow.

We become less compassionate and more entrenched in our own worldviews.” Perhaps we all feel like we are losing because tribalism has swallowed up our sense of curiosity and narrowed our hearts.

Which is why we need the story of Philip and the Eunuch now more than ever. For some context: Philip is a newly appointed leader in the growing Jesus movement. Religious leaders felt threatened by this and especially with a disciple named Stephen. Under the authority of a man named Saul, they stoned Stephen. And the church then was severely persecuted, scattering disciples all over the place. I imagine at this point it would have been so easy for the church to become tribal; telling each other who to watch out for and who to be afraid of, “be afraid of anyone who is not like us”. But that’s not the case for Philip.

Philip first goes to Samaria, the despised, distant cousin of the Jews, preaching and healing the sick, and to everyone’s surprise, droves of Samaritans believed and were baptized. This Jesus movement was moving beyond its Jewish, Jerusalem community and into a diverse, global body. The opposite of tribalism. And that’s where our story picks up.

An angel of the Lord tells Philip to go to an unusual place; not to a city, or to someone’s home, but to a road. A road is not a destination though, especially one that’s in the wilderness. But Philip, ever obedient, goes to this deserted highway. What for, exactly, he doesn’t know…

Until he hears the clopping of hooves pulling a chariot. Were told the passenger inside is an Ethiopian Eunuch.

Talk about a person who was not like Philip. In the time of the early church, the term Ethiopian referred broadly to people with black skin. In other ancient near eastern literature, Ethiopian meant someone who was from the farthest ends of the earth.

Not to mention that this person's gender was quite questionable. As castrated males, eunuchs didn’t fit into the gender norms of the Roman world. They weren’t considered men because they couldn’t produce children. But they weren’t seen as women either. And because they didn’t fit neatly into the binary, they were often an object of scorn.

Yet this Eunuch is at the same time powerful. He’s literate and wealthy enough to have a chariot at his disposal and a scroll of Isaiah. Nonetheless, he could not be more different from Philip. But the Holy Spirit doesn’t care about differences. The Spirit tells Philip to go to the chariot. I imagine Philip running to catch up with the chariot. Breathing heavily and gripping the window, he yells his question at the passenger. What would you do if someone did that to you while driving on 52? My guess is you wouldn’t invite them in your car!

But what ensues here is an interaction marked by holy curiosity. Both ask questions and invite more conversation: Do you understand what you're reading, asks Philip? No, I need a guide, says the Eunuch. Neither pretends to know more than they do. Both are incredibly vulnerable considering what has just happened to each of them.

Philip just had a fellow disciple killed for preaching about Jesus and here he is telling a complete stranger all about him? And the Eunuch had just gone to Jerusalem for worship, but because he was a Eunuch he wasn’t allowed in the temple to worship. It would be like coming here, being denied entrance into the sanctuary, and watching worship from the welcome space.

You’d think after that kind of rejection, the Eunuch would be done with organized religion. Yet, he asks Philip to tell him about this passage in Isaiah.

The result is two of the unlikeliest of people, in an unlikely location, being joined together as siblings in Christ through the water of baptism. [Rejoicing and changed as they walk away from this encounter]

That’s exactly what the Holy Spirit does. As Willie James Jennings puts it: the Holy Spirit rarely if ever sends us where we want to go or to whom we would want to go. Indeed the Spirit seems to always be pressing us to go to those to whom we would in fact strongly prefer never to share space, or a meal, and definitely not life together. Yet it is precisely this prodding to be boundary-crossing and border-transgressing that marks the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Who is your tribe telling you to fear? Who are you afraid of because you’ve been told they are the source of your problems or the problems in the world? Whoever they are, they are likely people very different from you, as different as Philip from the Eunuch.

And yet, the gospel tells us that through the Holy Spirit, a relationship is possible; doing life together with empathy and understanding is possible, working together to further the kingdom of God is possible. So perhaps what we need most in this time of deep divide among tribes is a holy curiosity: asking questions that invite more conversation, not acting like we know more than we do, and a vulnerability to go to the person and places we never thought we would.

What would your life look like if you, if we practiced obedience to the Spirit’s leading? Where would you go? Whom would you meet and engage with? What would our life together as Cross of Grace look like if we did the same? Where would we be led? Who is waiting for us there?

Life in the Spirit means we do not fear those different from ourselves. We engage with holy curiosity. And we walk away rejoicing; changed. When we do this, no one loses, everyone wins.

Such is the kingdom of God.

Amen