It is a special privilege to be invited to preach here on the feast of our patron saint St John, described in his own gospel as ‘the disciple whom Jesus loved’. The phrase occurs five times in John’s gospel, the last occasion being in the passage from the very end of John’s gospel that we have just heard.
The phrase is first used on an occasion which particularly demonstrates the special confidence that Jesus had in the disciple whom he loved. At the Last Supper Jesus tells his disciples that one of them will betray him. In Matthew and Mark there is a clamour of voices asking: Lord, is it I? In Luke they turn to one another with the same question. In all three synoptic gospels the answer is an elliptical reference to one who has dipped his bread in the bowl with me – which narrows the field to the inner circle of Jesus’ disciples, but does not specifically identify Judas. In John’s gospel it’s different. Peter motions to John, named here for the first time as the disciple whom Jesus loved, to ask who it is. Reclining close to Jesus at the table, John is in a position to put the question to Jesus so quietly and privately that noone else can hear, and Jesus responds in the same confidential manner, not naming Judas, but indicating that his betrayer is the one with whom he will share his next piece of bread. He dips his bread in the bowl. Passing it to Judas, he asks him to do quickly what he has to do. Judas leaves the table at once, and goes out into the night. The disciples have no idea what it is that Judas must do quickly – John alone knows that Judas has gone out to betray Jesus. Perhaps only John could be trusted to understand that Jesus did not want anyone to prevent it. Impetuous Peter might have leapt up, pinned Judas to the wall by the door, and demanded to know what he thought he was doing, before doing to him goodness knows what. But not John. The disciple whom Jesus loved instinctively understands his master so well that Jesus can safely share such a confidence with him.
The second occasion when John refers to himself as the disciple whom Jesus loved is when he is standing with Mary at the foot of the cross. We do not know whether any of the other disciples were there. Probably not. It was a risky place to be. There was a good chance they would be recognised, and rounded up, perhaps even executed on another trumped up charge. But nothing was going to keep Mary away; if she was going, the other women were going with her, and John would accompany them. Risky as it was, he too was drawn to the foot of the cross, as much for his own sake as for theirs. And Jesus, who saw and understood what was going on, sealed John’s special relationship with himself and with his mother, by entrusting them to one another’s care. ‘Woman, here is your son’ and to John: ‘Here is your mother’.
The other three references to the disciple whom Jesus loved all follow the resurrection. All three contrast John with Peter – John who is younger, runs faster and arrives first at the grave, but hangs back whilst Peter goes straight in – John who is the first to recognise Jesus in the early morning on the lake shore, but does not need to dive straight into the water as Peter does – John who is to live long pondering all that he has seen and learnt, in contrast to Peter whose life of active leadership and pastoral responsibilities is to end in brutal martyrdom. It is perhaps a token of Jesus humanity, his likeness to us, that his emotions should have been more particularly engaged by one of the disciples than by any of the others. Which doesn’t imply any kind of favouritism – it is just a statement of fact. What it does imply is a deeper, more intimately personal relationship with John than with any of the other disciples, a relationship which perhaps had something of that same depth of mutual confidence and understanding that allowed God to speak with Moses, as one speaks to a friend. Such intimacy between God and any man or woman is a rare and precious gift, but it does exist, and in John’s case it gives us a privileged window into the relationships of love which linked Jesus to his Father, and to his Friends.
We are writing these things so that our joy may be complete. In his letter, and indeed in his gospel, John is concerned to share with his readers the truth about Jesus to which he was to bear witness throughout his long life. Only if he could share with others the truth that he had heard, and seen and touched and known in Jesus, only then could his own joy be complete (1 John 1.1-4). That is a remarkable statement, but it does help to explain the passion with which John sets about his task. He cannot rest until he has declared the truth about Jesus which will lead others to share with him in that same belief, and so to enter with him into the relationship that he first experienced as the disciple whom Jesus loved. In his letter he uses the word fellowship to describe that intimate companionship, of love given and love received, that is open to us all. As Jesus gradually withdrew in the weeks after the resurrection, John did not have to barge into the empty tomb, or dive into the sea to be the first to reach the shore. Like Mary, who kept all these things and pondered them in her heart, John understood that the reality of the love which bound him to Jesus and Jesus to him was not dependent on his physical presence. That’s a hard lesson to learn, as most of us know from our experience of death and bereavement, but we do know it to be true, even if the difference is at first so achingly painful. John also understood that in some way his own fellowship of love with Jesus linked him into the fellowship of love between Jesus and his Father.
He goes on to identify for his readers one important condition for that fellowship to be unbroken. It is an integral part of our fellowship with God that we walk with him in the light. We cannot hide things from God. We all do things of which we are or should be ashamed, things which could all too easily cut us off from one another, and from God himself. But if we are honest with one another and with Him, confessing our sins rather than trying to conceal them, His love is patient enough and generous enough to forgive us, so that the intimacy of our fellowship is continually restored, and indeed strengthened by our gratitude for his mercy and understanding.
We are writing these things so that our joy may be complete. As we celebrate the Feast of St John, let us resolve to walk humbly but confidently in the light of God’s loving presence, so that there may be no shadows of guilt or concealment to impair our fellowship with him and with one another. That will make for a Christmas season of great joy to carry with us into another year.