I suspect we’ve all prayed a lot this week.

The news of the tragic mass shooting in Uvalde, Texas, just ten days after the mass shooting in Buffalo,
New York, was devastating. Disturbing. Nauseating.

19 children dead. Two teachers murdered. Many students injured. Countless traumatized.

Reports of violent and senseless death hit me like a gut-punch and brought me to my knees, brought me
to the posture of prayer.

What were your prayers this week?

Some of us could only pray in the language of tears, holy tears offered up to God. Tears of shock, tears
of grief, tears of exhaustion.

Some of us prayed by hugging our kids and our spouses a little tighter.

Some of us verbalized our prayers. Prayers like, “Enough!” “How many more, Lord?” and “When will
change come?”

Some of us prayed for the dead by name, holding the victims, their families, and the whole Uvalde
community up to God’s divine light.

Maybe some of us prayed, “Lord, don’t let them take my guns away.”

I know I prayed for Sarah, for her protection. I prayed for her students. I prayed for the teachers and
administrators in this parish, for the children of this parish. And after that I prayed for the pastors in
Uvalde, that God would give them the strength to do 21 funerals in the coming days and weeks. I
wrestled with Jesus, angerly, fearfully, about what I would say in a funeral eulogy if a school shooting
took the life of one of you.

We’ve offered Jesus a lot of prayers this week. Do you know that Jesus prayed, too?

Today’s reading from the Gospel of John reminds us that Jesus prays. This shouldn’t come as a surprise,
as throughout the Gospel of John, Jesus makes a point of telling us that he is in constant conversation
with the Father. He talks to God. He listens to God. He asks for healings, for blessings. He laments, and
groans. Jesus is always in prayer to God and with God.

What we heard from John’s Gospel is Jesus’ prayer, in fact his final prayer before his final hour. His
parting words before his crucifixion are not addressed to his disciples but to his Father: “I ask not only
on behalf my apostles, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word (that’s
you!), that they may all be one.” That they may all be one.

Prayer, at its simplest, is an expression of longing, of desires, an utterance, either silent or aloud, of
deepest aspirations, joys, and sorrows. It is in prayer that we learn who God is and experience his grace.
“Be still and know that I am God,” he tells us. It is also in prayer that we learn who we are in relationship
to God. This is not true of just the profound prayers of saints and sages; even the most selfish and
misguided of prayers teach us and form us. “Jesus, make me rich” still suggests dependence on God, still
suggests a relationship between God and his children, and God can work through that prayer, through
that relationship to bring our hearts in line with his will. Prayer reveals what or who we desire and
therefore who we are.
Jesus’ final prayer, his deepest desire, reveals who he is, too. That he prays for us at all shows that Christ
loves his disciples and cares intimately about us. His spirit is moved by our sorrows and lifted by our joys,
joining us in our triumphs and tribulations and magnifying our prayer to God. Jesus’ deepest desire is for
our unity, that we may all be one; therefore, he is shown to be unity itself! Just as the Father dwells in
him and him in the Father, so too does he dwell in us and us in each other. The Body of Christ is a body
of unity, of indwelling, of oneness. The Body of Christ is one of intimate love and care. The Body of Christ
is moved by sorrow and grieved by sin. Above all, the Body of Christ is one that is sacrificed for the
salvation of the world, the instrument of death’s defeat and the first fruit of resurrection. This is the
Body we belong to, the Body we have been baptized into, and the Body we receive at the Table.

Christ’s final prayer, prayed on our behalf that we may all be one, is the same prayer that he has prayed
this week for you. He has heard our sorrow, he has felt our fear, he knows our anger. He bears our grief
and our tiredness and our confusion. And he responds with a prayer for unity, that in our unity the
whole world may know the glory of God.

As the Body of Christ, we do not have to be of one mind about the solution to the gun violence problem
that continues to claim the lives of our children and our neighbors. But, as a people marked by Jesus’
prayer for unity, we must be of one heart, one body, united to pursue peace. Jesus’ prayer leaves no
room for tribalism, no room for us vs. them. Just as Jesus’ prayer preceded his sacrifice on the cross, so
too must we take up our crosses, lay down our egos for the sake of compromise, and come together in
pursuit of change. Continue to pray, that God will continue to shape our hearts and lead us to action.
We do not have to be of one mind, but we must be of one heart, one body, unified in the cause of
peace. That is Christ’s prayer for us today and tomorrow, and always. Amen.