“I go to prepare a place for you” (Jo. 14:2).
Some of you will remember the HBO series The Sopranos, which had its final episode in the early 2000s. Over six seasons viewers followed mob boss Tony Soprano as he led his New Jersey crime family in doing what crime families do: stealing, killing, and all around general mayhem. In spite of this, Soprano was also depicted as an everyman of sorts, with family troubles, a suburban lifestyle, and a weird “wise guy” kind of wondering about the meaning of it all. I think in one season he started seeing a therapist, and you can’t get more suburban than that.
Spoiler alert: the final episode was confusing to some devoted fans. As the series drew to a close, Soprano was under threat from his fellow criminals, not to mention the Justice Department, when he joined his family for dinner at a diner. He’s being tracked by a gunman, and as the door of the diner opens Tony looks up. The screen suddenly cuts to black; and after a little while the credits begin to roll. That was the end of The Sopranos. The conclusion was so abrupt that some people thought their cable line had been cut off, or that their televisions had blown a fuse.
Of course, that wasn’t the case. It was actually a clever move on the part of the series. The thing about a narcissistic character like Tony Soprano was that everything was all about him. His murderous rage, his feeling sorry for himself, his sense of entitlement: all of it was part of a profound disregard for others. So when the gunman presumably opened the door to the diner and started blasting away, that was the end of Soprano’s self-absorbed world. No lose ends to wrap up for the viewers because when Soprano blinked out, there was nothing left. There was nothing else in his drama except his own entitled ego.
Jesus said, “I go to prepare a place for you” (Jo. 14:2). Our reading is part of a longer discourse that takes place as Jesus shares his final meal with the disciples. He’s washed their feet and now he’s preparing them for his final departure: his arrest, his crucifixion, and in due course his glorious resurrection. He will no longer be with them in the same way as he had been before; in any case, there are trials and betrayals ahead. This is all difficult for the disciples to take in. Still, as he speaks, Jesus is looking both to the present and to the future that lies ahead.
“I go to prepare a place for you” (Jo. 14:2). Jesus’ words and deeds at this critical juncture are not for himself but for others. There’s no expectation here that the world will blink out of existence with his passing, but rather the belief that there is a shared life ahead, a place that Jesus has prepared for his followers. “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?” (Jo. 14:2). The “place” is where Jesus takes us to himself, so that where he is, there we may be also, as he goes on to say (Jo. 14:3).
This place where Jesus calls us is the opposite of the world of Tony Soprano. Dietrich Bonhoeffer called Jesus “the man for others,” which means he was not the man for himself, which Soprano was. The expectation of life together in the presence of God that Jesus lays out for us in our Gospel shows our lives in a different light. The morality of the mob boss just won’t cut it. We’re called to abide in Jesus and to be with him where he is. That’s the hope of the Gospel. Death is not the end, even if we are wrapped up in ourselves. Jesus has risen from the dead and called us to himself. He’s unbound the burial shroud in which we’re trapped and brought us forth to new life. He himself is the way to the Father: “the way, and the truth, and the life” (Jo. 14:6).
Think again about the night of his arrest, from which our Gospel is drawn: the meal he shared with his disciples and the way of service he taught. Here and now, we abide in Christ, as we share his life in the sacrament of his body and blood, and through following his way of service. Remember his words that we will recall at the altar today: this is my body, given for you; this is my blood, shed for you. The man for others is giving himself for us this morning. This is where we abide with him, and he is us. At these altar rails we discover that Jesus is alive, and not dead. Resurrection life is not simply for the future but is present now, as we share in these holy mysteries.
Our confirmands this morning are showing us the way. They’re re-affirming their baptismal vows and joining with us in a life of service. The way that we walk together at the Church of the Resurrection is the road to the place where Jesus is; to the house of many mansions. The “man for others” promises us new and everlasting life. He goes before to prepare a place for us.