13.05.2026
Saint Francis
The Rev. Christian Jennert, Bridge Pastor
Sermon Easter 6 A, May 10, 2026
There are moments in life when we feel the weight of absence -- when someone we love is no longer there, when something we depended on begins to slip away.
That's where the disciples are today.
Jesus is preparing to leave them. And they are grieving. And into that grief, into that fear, Jesus speaks these words: "I will not leave you orphaned." Not orphaned. Not abandoned. Not alone.
For those who love God and live in God's ways, Jesus says, he will come to us, abide in us -- and we in him. It is a deeply mystical image, Christ dwelling within us, and we within Christ. It echoes the "many rooms" from last week's Gospel -- this expansive, intimate image of belonging where all find a place in God's mansion. It is comforting to know that we are not alone in this world. And I need that comfort.
Because when we look around, there is so much that weights on the heart. We hear of ongoing conflict -- the conflict between Russia and the Ukraine, tensions in the Strait of Hormuz, unrest in parts of Africa, immigrants feeling unsafe in our country, uncertainty and fear in so many places. The world can feel fragile, divided, even overwhelming at times.
And yet, even there, Jesus has not abandoned the world.
I still remember seeing on the news a woman from Joplin, Missouri, standing in the rubble of what used to be her home after a devastating tornado, held by her spouse, saying through her tears, "At least we still have each other." Even there, Christ is present, in the embrace, in the love, in the community that holds us.
And isn't that exactly what Jesus is doing here in John's Gospel? He doesn't remove the grief. He doesn't deny the loss. But he promises presence. "I will give you another Advocate," he says, "to be with you forever."
Now I'll confess I've never loved the word "Advocate" all that much. The Greek word παράκλητος (paraklete) carries so much more richness. It also means comforter, counselor, encourager. Encourager -- that's the word that speaks to me. Because it's not passive. It moves. It acts. It shows up. The Spirit as Encourager is not just something we receive, it is something we become for one another.
Where do you need that Encourager in your life right now? Where does this community need that Encourager right now? Because Jesus is clear: none of us is being left alone. None of us is orphaned. We have each other. And I see that so vividly right here at St. Francis.
I see it on Tuesday mornings at the food bank, when Alice Ann and the volunteers welcome neighbors with dignity, kindness, and care, no questions asked, just food and presence. I see it in the Senior Center, where Beverly creates programs that bring joy, connection, and meaning to those who gather. I see it in the kitchen, where our chefs and volunteers prepare a delicious and affordable three-course meal, not just to feed people, but to honor them. I saw it this past Thursday, when I arrived early to the office and found our fellowship hall filled with an AA group -- people showing up for one another, sharing strength and hope. I see it in the careful planning of a memorial service for someone who simply longed for a community church, and this place beoming home, even at life's end.
I see it in the Easter banner and those that will go up next week outside, in the quiet conversations, in the connections we don't even expect, like meeting a vet tech in the neighborhood who said, "Oh, I go to one of your church's morning AA meetings." And yes, even in something as simple as grabbing coffee with Angela, our new Outreach Coordinator, at Verve, building relationships with our neighbors in the Duboce Triangle, Upper Market, and Castro neighborhoods.
This is the Spirit at work. This is the Paraclete, the Encourager, alive among us. Ordinary people. Ordinary moments. Extraordinary grace.
It reminds me of something a volunteer said to me after years of serving at a local food ministry: "I don't know why I keep doing it, but every time I do, I receive so much in return." That's the mystery of the Spirit. When we share love, we receive it. When we encourage, we are encouraged. When we show up, Christ is already there.
The writer of 1 Peter puts it this way: "Always be ready to give an account for the hope that is in you -- but do it with gentleness and reverence."
Hope. I love that word. Not loud, not forceful. Gentle. Steady. Real. And that is what you are doing here. In a world that often feels fractured. In a world that often feels lonely. In a world that often feels fearful, St. Francis is embodying hope.
What a privilege it is to be part of this work with you. Not just in my ministry as your bridge pastor, but all of us together as God's people. Sharing good news. Inviting people into healing and reconciliation. Living lives that quietly, persistently say, 'You are not alone.' Because in everything we do, we do it in the name of Jesus, our Savior, and our friend. And in that name, we are never orphaned.
A tender promise we hold on this Mother's Day, and on every day we need to be reminded we belong.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
