the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you.
John 14:17 (NIV)
With Them, Then In Them
Freight rolls through the old depot all day and the waiting room stays unlocked anyway. This afternoon it has an older man with a folded newspaper in it and a young woman with a duffel bag on the bench across from him. The floor shifts a little when a long one goes through. They both feel it, and they both keep looking where they were looking.
Another advocate is on the way, Jesus tells the men listening to him, one who will be with them forever. He says he will ask the Father for him. The Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you.
He lives with you was already true in the place where they were standing, and will be in you was still ahead of every one of them. Jesus said both to the same men.
The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. That sentence is about seeing. But you know him, Jesus tells the men listening, and they know him because of the gift he is asking the Father to give them. He also tells them he is going away, that before long the world will not see him anymore, and that he will not leave them as orphans. People who know the Spirit of truth can still need to be told that.
Try finding the rest of the promise on one of those benches. The man has a newspaper beside him and the woman has a duffel at her feet, and either one can stand up, walk out, and leave the thing on the bench. Everything in a waiting room is next to somebody. A depot has no picture for what goes inward. The scene runs out before the verse does.
The man can leave the newspaper for whoever comes in next. The woman can set the duffel down inside the door of wherever she is going. The promise to be in them goes where a person cannot put anything down, and Jesus said it to men who so far had only known him from beside them.
An hour goes by with the track empty. The older man folds his newspaper, looks over at the woman with the duffel, and says, “Mine’s late. Yours is on time, and that’s worse. You have to sit here ready.”
A Prayer to Remember
Come further in than I know how to ask. I’ve treated you like a guest I walk to the door and see off at the end of a good hour. Whatever you’ve already put inside me, put it to work on the part of tomorrow I’m dreading, and stay through the ordinary middle of the day when I forget you’re there.
In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.
