Summary: Jesus prays in John 17—not just for the disciples beside Him, but for us, those who would come to believe through their witness. That’s real love. Not temporary. Not performative. Real love is legacy love. Transformative love. Love that acts and lasts.

Sermon Title: “Real Love… Talking About That Real Love”

Scripture: John 17:20–26 (The Message)

Occasion: Cumberland UMC, 1st Sunday in June 2025

The Message

20-23 I’m praying not only for them But also for those who will believe in me Because of them and their witness about me.

The goal is for all of them to become one heart and mind—

Just as you, Father, are in me and I in you, So they might be one heart and mind with us. Then the world might believe that you, in fact, sent me. The same glory you gave me, I gave them,

So they’ll be as unified and together as we are— I in them and you in me. Then they’ll be mature in this oneness, And give the godless world evidence That you’ve sent me and loved them In the same way you’ve loved me.

24-26 Father, I want those you gave me To be with me, right where I am,

So they can see my glory, the splendor you gave me,

Having loved me Long before there ever was a world.

Righteous Father, the world has never known you,

But I have known you, and these disciples know

That you sent me on this mission. I have made your very being known to them— Who you are and what you do— And continue to make it known, So that your love for me Might be in them

Exactly as I am in them.

Introduction:

Beloved, we gather today not just in worship, but in witness. Jesus prays in John 17—not just for the disciples beside Him, but for us, those who would come to believe through their witness. That’s real love. Not temporary. Not performative. Real love is legacy love. Transformative love. Love that acts and lasts.

And on this first Sunday in June, as the Earth groans under the weight of climate change, pollution, and human greed, we are called to ask: What does real love sound like when it’s talking about the Earth? How often do we read a news headline and hear that the Earth is once again crying out? This Eastertide, we have seen that the suffering of the Earth is not just an issue that involves one demographic or another—it truly is about all of us. What is beautiful in Revelation 22 is that the city gates are open to everyone. As we consider what to do about summers getting hotter, storms becoming more violent, crops failing more often, and the people and creatures who are suffering the worst of these consequences, we must realize that the centerpiece of this city is the Tree of Life. At this tree, we find our sustenance and are made a part of God's New Creation. What does it mean to be one with Christ and also one with creation?

There are three rules that every Methodist tries to keep The Three Simple Rules for Methodists, as outlined by John Wesley, are: Do No Harm, Do Good, and Attend to the Ordinances of God (or Stay in Love with God). These rules serve as a guide for living a life that is both socially and spiritually fulfilling.

I often think back on this one unforgettable moment from my childhood—especially when reflecting on the good-hearted but sometimes questionable methods of those who raised me with love, tradition, and a dash of old-school healing.

Now, I know without a doubt that my Grandmother and her sister—my Grand Aunt Baby—loved me deeply. These were women of strong faith, stronger opinions, and a belief that between Jesus and a little clay&moss, anything could be cured. Around the time I was 12, I was having some serious asthma and seizures. So, in their wisdom, they decided it was time to turn to "the old ways." And by “old ways,” I mean something that could’ve been featured on an episode of “Extreme Home Remedies.”

The plan? Simple. Find a tree, take an ax, make a ceremonial cut above my head, stuff it with a moss mixture, and when I grew tall enough to reach the mark—poof!—no more breathing problems. I guess it was part medicine, part prophecy, part horticulture.

Now here’s where things got interesting.

See, my grandmother stood about 5'9", and Aunt Baby was maybe 5'7" on a good day. Sweet women, but neither had swung an ax in a while—let alone aimed it near the crown of a growing boy's skull.

And me? I was already pushing six feet at age 12. Apparently, the math wasn’t mathing.

So there we were, in the yard, Aunt Baby gripping the ax like she was Moses about to split the Red Sea. My grandmother was holding my head still, whispering something about “the spirit of the tree” and “the breath of the ancestors.” And just when that ax started its sacred swing...

My mama burst out the house like the Holy Ghost at a revival: “WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE Y’ALL DOING?!”

Needless to say, that swing was stopped mid-air by a mother’s righteous fury and a swift snatching. Nobody got hurt—though the tree never looked at me the same again.

Looking back now, I laugh—but I also reflect. They meant well. Their intentions were rooted in love and tradition. But what we meant to do and what we almost did… were two different things.

And that, my friends, is why the first rule of ministry, parenting, community work—or really anything that involves swinging an ax—is: Do No Harm.

Because sometimes Real love needs a little more planning… and a little less chopping.

Let’s walk together with three moves and one clear illustration that brings the Gospel into our streets, our skies, and our soil.

Move One: Real Love Speaks in Unity (John 17:20–23)

Jesus prays, “That they may be one, as you and I are one.” Beloved, environmental justice is not just science—it’s spiritual. Unity doesn’t only mean harmony with each other; it means harmony with God’s creation.

To love like Jesus is to speak in ways that unify the body and the Earth. Jesus says this unity will give the world evidence—evidence that God’s love is real.

In our divided world, where climate denial and environmental racism still pollute not just air but policies, we must sound like Jesus when He prays.

Our unity must include those suffering from lead-contaminated water, from the heat in redlined neighborhoods, and from industrial plants built too close to homes.

Real love is not silent. It speaks for the voiceless—birds losing habitats, children breathing asthma, elders trapped in heat islands.

Real love would not still have children in the Black communities of flint Michigan and Demark South Carolina still not having clean drinking water.

?

Move Two: Real Love Bears Witness (John 17:20)

Jesus says, “I’m praying not only for them but also for those who will believe in me because of them and their witness.”

What we say, how we live, and how we protest—it all matters.

Illustration:

In 1982, in a little place called Warren County, NC—rural, poor, and Black—real love lay down in the middle of the road. Six thousand truckloads of PCB-contaminated soil were headed for their community. The government said “It’s fine,” but the people said, “Not here. Not our children. Not our water.”

Black preachers, community members, civil rights veterans, and everyday folks bore witness—not with sermons in pews, but sermons on pavement. And over 500 were arrested, the first in U.S. history for protesting the siting of a landfill. That’s not just activism—that’s real love.

Real love bears witness when a child can’t play outside because the air isn’t safe. Real love shows up at town halls, plants trees, shuts down polluters, and holds systems accountable.

I wondering today church are you ready for some real love are you ready to show some real love. I wonder are you ready to stand for justice to cry out for righteousness to show some real love.

?

Move Three: Real Love Builds the Sparkling City (John 17:24–26)

Jesus closes His prayer talking about love that was present before the foundation of the world. That’s a cosmic kind of love. And in Revelation, we’re promised a sparkling river, trees for healing, and a City of God. With at its center the Tree of Life. The tree of life represents the fullness of eternal life that God wishes to lavish on humanity. It's one of the most powerful images in God's Word, extending from the first chapters of Genesis to the final ones of Revelation. The Bible also tells the story of how God offers a way back to the Tree of Life through Jesus Christ. His death and resurrection are seen as a new way to obtain eternal life and communion with God. In the New Testament, the Tree of Life is described as the New Jerusalem, a place where God's people will live in eternal life and peace. In essence, the Tree of Life serves as a powerful reminder of God's original plan for humanity, the consequences of sin, and the hope of restoration through Jesus Christ.

But how do we get there?

We don’t float into it—we build it. Together. With policy. With protest. With preaching. With planting.

Modern preachers like Rev. Lennox Yearwood of the Hip Hop Caucus, Rev. Mariama White-Hammond in Boston, and Dr. Melanie Harris with her “eco-womanist” theology, are showing us how. They connect faith with climate, Blackness with beauty, justice with joy.

They tell us: You can’t love God and poison His planet.

You can’t sing “This is my Father’s world” and then dump waste in your neighbor’s yard.

Real love doesn’t just dream about the New Jerusalem. Real love digs the ditches, files the lawsuits, organizes the neighborhoods, and plants the trees.

Conclusion:

So what are we talking about today?

Not a surface love. Not a Sunday-only love.

We’re talking about real love.

When I think of the Idea of real love, it does not originate in this sermon but in the Song By Mary J Blige, where she sings about searching for some real love, but I want you to know that if we trust in Giod and work with one another as Jesus Prayed we can find Real love. Because

Real love talks like Jesus.

Real love stands like Warren County.

Real love bears witness, builds cities, and breathes life into our Earth.

Because where two or three—or two or three thousand—are gathered, there God is also. And where God is, there is unity, there is justice, there is joy and there is Real Love!

Now let’s be about that real love. Amen.