Doorway Moments

Sermon for May 10, 2026 (Easter 6, Mother's Day, and Graduating Senior Recognition)
John 14:15-21

(The sermon began with remembrances from seniors Evan Murray and John Kirmer.)

Evan and John, thank you so much for sharing those memories of your time here at St. Andrew’s.  This is a bittersweet day in a bittersweet season for our graduating seniors, a time of celebration and farewell.  It’s hard to hold those realities together – it’s confusing how we’re supposed to feel in times like these, these liminal spaces of our lives.

Evan and John, and all our graduating seniors – that’s where you’re standing right now, a place where we’ve all been and where we all will be – in a liminal space.  That’s a five-dollar word for a transitional time.  That transition may be a moment, or it may be a longer phase.  But in any case, it’s a time when we look both backward and forward, simultaneously remembering and anticipating.  That word liminal comes from a Latin word for a doorway, and I think that applies pretty well to us, with all the rich realities we’re bringing before God this morning.  This is a day and a season for standing in the doorway.

Our seniors and their families certainly know the mixed feelings of liminal space.  The grad parties, the honors, the sense of relief – all that is very real.  And right there alongside it is your very real grief about impending goodbyes and uncertainty about what’s next.  In our transitions, we look backward into the room where we’ve been, and we look forward to the room we’re entering … and we just want to stand in the doorway a while, reveling in what we’ve accomplished and steadying ourselves for what we can’t quite yet see.

That’s where Jesus and his friends are in today’s Gospel reading, too – the liminal space of the Last Supper.  As John tells the story of that night, Jesus talks nonstop, for four chapters, trying to help his friends remember what they’ve shared over the past three years and prepare for what’s going to happen.  He’s just told them he’s about to leave and that his going will be very hard – for him and for them.  It’s the last thing his friends want to hear, and they don’t understand it anyway.  He’s told them he’ll prepare a place for them where he’s going.  “Don’t worry,” Jesus says; “you know the way.”  But his friends can’t begin to see it.  “We don’t know where you’re going,” Thomas complains; “how can we know the way?” (14:5).  For any of us who’ve been in a real doorway moment, we’re right there with Thomas.

When we stand in that liminal space, Jesus gives us two assurances.  First, he tells his friends that, actually, they don’t have to know precisely where they’re going.  We always hear that life is less about the destination and more about the journey, right?  Well, by the same token, success in God’s eyes isn’t about mapping the right destination; it’s about following the right person as you head toward whatever comes next.  “I am the way, and the truth, and the life,” Jesus tells his friends (14:6).  “Trust in that, and follow me.”

Here’s the other assurance Jesus gives his friends as they stand in that liminal space – what we heard in the Gospel reading today: that they won’t be going it alone.  Even though Jesus will be gone, he’ll “ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate,” Jesus says – “the Spirit of truth” who will “be with you forever” (14:16-17).  Now, Jesus does have expectations of his friends as they move into the next room of their lives:  “If you love me, you will keep my commandments,” he says (14:15).  As we learn in every room through which we pass, we’re accountable for the choices we make.  But, as we poke our heads through the doorway, and crane our necks, and try to see what lies ahead, we won’t be doing it on our own.  “I will not leave you orphaned,” Jesus says (14:18).  With the Holy Spirit guiding our steps, we’ll abide in nothing less than divine Love itself.  “Those who love me will be loved by my Father,” Jesus says, “and I will love them and will reveal myself to them” (14:21).

In these doorway moments, sometimes we can’t wait to step into what’s next; and sometimes we’d give anything just to stay a little longer where we’ve been.  No matter what this liminal space is like for you, just know that you aren’t alone in it.  And know that the Spirit of Love will be guiding and equipping you for the work that awaits you in that next room.

As we celebrate this Mother’s Day, I want to leave you with something my mother gave to my sisters and me.  Every time she saw us getting ready to walk out the door into whatever lay ahead for us that day, she had a mantra she’d repeat.  It was her blessing, really – her way of reminding us how to follow the Way and thrive in whatever lay ahead, even if we couldn’t see it.  As we opened the door to step outside, my mother would say, “Learn something, love somebody, and have a good time.”

Learn something, love somebody, and have a good time.  Whether you’re stepping through the doorway in trepidation or in joy, those are good words to help you find the Way.