Sermon for May 18, 2025 - The Fifth Sunday of Easter

A New Commandment for a New Creation

Today’s Gospel reading opens with a moment of deep intimacy and gravity. Judas has just left the table to betray Jesus. The tension in the room is thick. Jesus knows what is coming — the cross is looming. And in this moment, perhaps more than any other, we are given a window into the very heart of Christ. It is here, in the 13th Chapter of John, that Jesus turns to his disciples and says:

“Little children, I am with you only a little longer… I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

This commandment — simple, yet utterly transformative — lies at the centre of Christian discipleship. It is not new in the sense that love had never been commanded before. The Old Testament is full of commands to love God and neighbour. But it is new in quality, new in scope, and new in example. What makes it new is Jesus himself: “Just as I have loved you.”

The Love That Recreates the World

To understand this new commandment, we must understand the love of Christ — not as a vague emotion or generic kindness, but as self-giving love, love that serves, stoops, washes feet, and lays down its life. Jesus is not offering us a suggestion or a feeling. He is offering us a way of life, and indeed, a way of death — death to self, so that others might live.

This is the love that makes all things new.

And so, we turn to our second reading today, from Revelation. Here John the Revelator sees a vision: “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth… And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God.”

What we are witnessing here is not escape from the world, but renewal. Not the destruction of creation, but its transformation. God declares: “See, I am making all things new.” Not “I am making all new things,” but all things new. There is continuity — the old is not discarded, but redeemed.

The connection between these two passages is profound. The love that Jesus commands in John is the same love that shapes the new creation in Revelation. When Jesus commands us to love as he has loved us, he is inviting us into the very fabric of the kingdom of God — a kingdom built not on power or pride, but on sacrificial love.

A New Commandment for a New World

Let’s return to that moment in the Upper Room. Jesus says, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

He does not say, “They will know you are mine by your theology,” or “by your worship style,” or “by your moral achievements.” No, the mark of authentic discipleship is love — not the easy kind, but the costly kind.

We live in a world deeply fragmented by division, fear, and hatred. We see it in politics, in social media, in international conflicts, even within the church. And yet, into this brokenness, Christ calls his followers to be witnesses of a different way — a way shaped not by retaliation or self-preservation, but by a love that absorbs wounds, bears burdens, and crosses boundaries.

This kind of love is not naive. It is not soft. It is strong enough to bear betrayal, as Jesus did with Judas. It is courageous enough to endure injustice, as Jesus did on the cross. And it is powerful enough to bring about resurrection — not only in individual lives, but in communities, cities, and nations.

“He Will Wipe Every Tear…”

One of the most moving promises in Revelation is this: “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more.”

We need to hear this.

We need to hear it when death feels too close — when grief has settled like a weight on our chest.

We need to hear it when the world feels dark — when war, famine, and injustice seem to reign.

We need to hear it when love feels like too much to ask — when forgiveness seems impossible, when reconciliation seems out of reach.

The promise of Revelation is not a fantasy. It is God’s future, breaking into the present through Jesus Christ. Dwelling among us were we are united with God and all whom we love but see no longer. And the church — we — are meant to be a preview of that future. We are meant to be the place where tears are gently wiped away, where mourning is shared, and where the pain of this world meets the healing of Christ’s love.

Living the New Commandment

So what does it mean to live this out?

It means loving even when it costs us — when it’s inconvenient, when it disrupts our plans, when it means forgiving someone who hasn’t apologized.

It means loving across differences — cultural, political, generational. The love of Christ does not require sameness. It requires selflessness.

It means loving with our hands and feet — feeding the hungry, visiting the lonely, standing with the oppressed, comforting the grieving.

It means loving with our words — choosing compassion over condemnation, truth over gossip, grace over judgment.

And it means loving as a community. This new commandment was given not just to individuals, but to the whole church. The world will know that we belong to Jesus not because of our building, or our programs, or our history — but because we love one another.

This is our witness. This is our call.

Christ the Alpha and the Omega

At the centre of Revelation’s vision is the voice of Jesus saying: “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.”

It all starts with him, and it all ends with him. The love that was poured out in the Upper Room, the love that was nailed to a cross, the love that burst forth from the tomb — that love is the foundation of the new creation.

And here is the mystery: when we obey the new commandment — when we love as Jesus loved — we participate in that creation. We are not just waiting for heaven. We are building it, here and now, in the soil of our neighbourhoods, in the rooms of our homes, in the pews of this very church.

Conclusion: “All Things New”

Friends, the world is aching for something real. Something true. Something holy.

And the risen Christ is still speaking: “See, I am making all things new.”

Let us then take seriously his call. Let us love one another, not in word only, but in deed and truth. Let us build bridges, bind wounds, and bear witness to the God who wipes away every tear.

For in loving like Jesus, we do not merely follow a rule — we embody a reality. We live into the future God has promised. We become signs of the new heaven and new earth.

And in the end, that love will remain. When all else fades — when sermons are forgotten and buildings crumble — love will endure.

“I give you a new commandment,” Jesus says, “that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

Amen.