Introduction – Living for Something Worth Dying For
A man once heard the words none of us ever want to hear: “You have six months to live.”
He was healthy one week and terminally ill the next. Completely shattered, he began missing work and numbing the pain with late-night drinking. One evening he slumped over a glass and muttered, “I can’t die—I don’t even know what I’ve been living for.”
That line stops me cold every time. It isn’t just a tragic comment about dying; it’s a piercing question about living. What are you living for that is so clear, so God-given, that it would still be worth doing if you had only six months left?
Jesus gives His answer in the prayer we call His high-priestly prayer, recorded in John 17.
On the eve of the cross He looked ahead and prayed for His disciples—and for us:
“I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in Me through their word, that they may all be one, just as You, Father, are in Me and I in You, that they also may be in Us, so that the world may believe that You have sent Me.” (John 17:20–21)
Here is the heartbeat of Jesus on the night before Calvary:
that His people would be one, so that the world would believe.
That is something worth living—and dying—for.
This morning we will explore three great movements of that prayer:
the mission we share, the unity we need, and the power we depend on.
Each movement calls us out of isolation into a Spirit-filled togetherness that the world cannot explain.
1. The Mission We Share
Before we speak of unity, we must speak of mission.
Unity without mission is like a beautifully built ship that never leaves port.
Jesus lived with relentless purpose.
He said in Luke 4:43, >“I must preach the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns as well; for I was sent for this purpose.”
That word must is strong.
It tells us Jesus was under holy necessity.
He wasn’t meandering through Galilee looking for something religious to do.
He had a divine assignment: to proclaim and embody the kingdom of God.
He gives that same urgency to His followers.
There are people we love who are dying without Christ.
There are neighbors and nations living in the frustration of unconquered sin.
They cannot know the peace and joy of Jesus unless someone brings them the message of life.
The Bible is blunt about the stakes.
It says we are in a war, not of flesh and blood, but of spiritual powers and principalities.
Casualties line our streets. Yet many of us fail to see the war—or worse, we see it and are unconcerned.
Too often churches get tangled in secondary battles.
We major on administrative headaches.
We drain energy on who holds what position or whose idea gets adopted.
Some even treat the church like a stage for personal ambition.
And while we debate, the enemy advances.
Friends, we do not have the luxury of petty quarrels.
The mission is urgent and eternal.
If Satan can keep us distracted or divided, he has already won half the battle.
But here is good news:
Jesus did not merely give us a task; He prayed for the resources to fulfill it.
He prayed that we would be one—because a united church is the most powerful missionary force on earth. The world believes not when we out-argue it, but when we out-love and out-serve it together.
That leads naturally to the second movement of His prayer.
2. The Unity We Need
Listen again to verse 22: >“The glory that You have given Me I have given to them, that they may be one even as We are one.”
Jesus is not calling for a superficial truce or a lowest-common-denominator agreement.
He is offering something supernatural: the very glory He shared with the Father.
Unity is not a program to sign up for; it is a miracle to receive.
The Greek word Jesus uses for one is the same word used of the Father and Son.
It speaks of deep inner harmony, of a shared life.
This is far beyond friendliness in the church lobby.
It is the Spirit of God reproducing the character of Christ in each believer until we find ourselves knit together at the deepest level.
Think of it this way:
When God is changing me and God is changing you, we begin to recognize His fingerprints in each other. Our differences do not disappear, but they cease to divide.
We begin to care instinctively for one another’s needs.
We draw insight and strength from one another’s experiences.
The early church grasped this. In Acts 4:32 we read,
>“The full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his own, but they had everything in common.”
No committee voted on that policy.
No manual outlined that lifestyle.
It was the natural overflow of people filled with the same Spirit and centered on the same mission.
Contrast that with much of today’s church life.
Instead of confessing sin, we sometimes hide it for fear of judgment.
Instead of sharing burdens, we label honest struggle as immaturity.
Instead of seeing weakness as an opportunity to minister, we treat it as gossip material.
The result?
We do more damage to our own ranks than we ever do to the gates of hell.
But Jesus’ prayer still stands.
Unity is not nostalgia for a first-century golden age; it is a present-tense gift.
The glory He received from the Father He has already given to His people.
So the call is not to create unity but to receive it and protect it.
Ephesians 4:3 puts it succinctly:
>”Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
Unity is maintained when we let the Spirit keep us humble, when we forgive quickly, when we speak truth in love, and when we place the mission of Christ above our personal preferences.
Let’s be honest: that kind of unity is costly.
It asks me to lay down my right to always be right.
It asks you to open your heart to brothers and sisters who may not look like you, vote like you, or sing like you.
But the reward is priceless.
When believers who have been to the cross together walk away from the cross together, they discover the joy of a fellowship that the world cannot counterfeit and hell cannot conquer.
3. The Model We Follow
The first Christians had no elaborate constitution, no printed bulletins, no slick social media presence.
Yet Luke tells us in Acts 4:32, >“The full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul.”
That one verse is a portrait of supernatural community.
They prayed together.
They ate together.
They met each other’s needs so fully that Luke adds, “there was0not a needy person among them.” No one had to nag them to volunteer or tithe; love made generosity the natural response.
This was not forced socialism; it was Spirit-born fellowship.
Their unity wasn’t built on convenience or personality.
It was forged at the cross and fueled by the resurrection.
They knew they were family, and family stands together.
Even hostile outsiders noticed.
Roman historians, who rejected Christian doctrine, still marveled: “See how these Christians love one another!” That witness turned the world upside down long before there were church buildings or seminaries.
What if our churches recaptured that atmosphere today?
Imagine visitors walking into worship and feeling such genuine love that they say, “Something supernatural is happening here. God is among them.”
That is what Jesus prayed for.
4. The Practices We Embrace
Unity is not maintained by accident.
The New Testament gives us practices that nourish it.
Paul teaches in 1 Corinthians 12 that the church is a body with many parts.
No part is optional.
The eye needs the hand; the hand needs the foot.
If one suffers, all suffer; if one rejoices, all rejoice.
Ephesians 4:15–16 expands the thought: >“Speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ… when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.”
Growth and maturity come when every believer is active and honest in love.
Jesus promises in Matthew 18:19–20 that when even two agree in prayer, the Father moves.
That means my private battles are not meant to be fought alone.
There is supernatural power when brothers and sisters carry one another’s burdens.
Philippians 2:4 reminds us to look not only to our own interests but also to the interests of others.
Acts 4:32 shows that even our possessions are at God’s disposal for the sake of the body.
When we take these texts seriously, certain commitments follow.
We admit, “I don’t have all the answers.”
Only God does, and He often reveals His wisdom through other believers.
We welcome correction.
We let others speak truth in love so we can grow.
We make ourselves available.
Ministry cannot rest on a few; every member is called to serve.
And we open our resources—time, skills, finances—so God can use them to meet the needs of His people and advance His mission.
These practices are not burdensome rules.
They are pathways of grace where the Spirit creates unity that programs and committees can never manufacture.
5. The Pitfalls We Avoid
But if there are practices that build unity, there are also habits that destroy it.
Jesus’ prayer implies a battlefield.
He would not have prayed so earnestly for oneness if division were not a constant threat.
One pitfall is gossip and fault-finding.
The church is weakened, not strengthened, by devout-sounding criticism.
Brilliant, competent people sometimes sideline themselves from the life of the body—not because of lack of faith, but because of lack of love. Another is loveless routine.
It is tragic when a congregation exists only to keep a schedule of services or maintain an institution’s prestige.
The form continues, but the fire is gone.
A third danger is program dependence.
We can become so committed to systems and committees that the Spirit could leave and the machinery would keep running. That was never God’s design.
These warnings are not meant to scold but to wake us up.
Unity is fragile.
It must be guarded with humility, forgiveness, and persistent prayer.
6. The Power We Depend On
The early church had no radio broadcasts, no livestreams, no email lists.
Yet people were saved daily.
Needs were met.
Missionaries were sent to the ends of the earth.
How?
Luke answers in a single phrase repeated throughout Acts: “filled with the Holy Spirit.”
The Spirit birthed their unity.
The Spirit gave them courage to witness and power to love.
The Spirit directed their leaders and multiplied their influence.
What the first century lacked in technology, it possessed in supernatural vitality.
And that is what we need today.
When we rely on programs more than prayer, on budgets more than the Breath of God, we trade the real engine of revival for a paper substitute.
But when we cry out for the Spirit, heaven answers.
He melts pride, reconciles enemies, and turns ordinary disciples into world changers.
This is why Jesus said, “I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one.”
Glory here is not applause; it is the radiant life of God shared with His people.
Only His Spirit can produce that
7. Conclusion – All Together in the Spirit’s Power
Unity is never an accident. It is a miracle we receive, a discipline we practice, and a testimony we guard. And it is always for mission. Jesus prayed for oneness “so that the world may believe.” Unity is not a side issue; it is evangelism’s sharpest edge.
A chief clerk in a large department store once struggled to move a heavy crate at the storeroom door. He strained and sweated until an assistant offered help. For several minutes they grunted and heaved from opposite sides, but the crate would not budge. Finally the assistant gasped, “I don’t think we’ll ever get this crate out of the storage room.” “Get it out?” the chief clerk replied, “I’m trying to get it in!” Isn’t that a snapshot of many churches? Faithful people pushing hard—but in opposite directions. We pray for revival but pull against each other. We want growth but insist on our own way. And we wonder why the load never moves.
The remedy is not another program or a better meeting agenda. The remedy is a fresh work of the Holy Spirit and a renewed obedience to Jesus’ prayer. Unity is maintained when we choose forgiveness before bitterness can take root, when we listen before speaking, and when we place Christ’s mission above personal preference, musical style, or committee structure. When we love like that, something supernatural happens. The world sees Jesus.
The early church’s signature was not architecture or strategy but joy and love. Even those who rejected their message marveled at how Christians cared for one another. People hungry for meaning will not be impressed by bigger screens or tighter programs. They will be drawn to a community alive with God, where love overflows and joy cannot be contained. Prayer is the lifeblood of that unity. Jesus Himself prayed for it, and He calls us to join Him. “If two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them” (Matthew 18:19–20). Agreement in prayer releases heaven’s power.
We must depend on the Spirit more than on programs. The first believers had none of our tools—no email, no livestream, no strategic plans—yet the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved. Their secret was simple: they depended entirely on the presence of God. Meetings began with intercession. Decisions were measured not only by budgets but by kingdom impact. The atmosphere shifted from anxious striving to joyful dependence.
Unity also begins with personal surrender. Before we can clasp hands with others, we must open our hearts to God. Maybe there is a grudge you have carried too long, a wound left unspoken, a prejudice you have excused. The first step toward corporate healing is personal repentance. Ask the Spirit to show where pride has closed your ears. Name the offense. Release it at the cross. Forgive as you have been forgiven. Then move toward the person—write the note, make the call, set the coffee date. When even one believer does this, the ripple of grace can move through an entire congregation.
Why does all this matter? Because the world is watching. Jesus tied our unity directly to the credibility of the gospel: “that the world may believe that you have sent me.” Every baptism becomes a headline: Love wins here. Every meal shared across cultures preaches a silent sermon: The kingdom of God is bigger than our divisions. Every act of sacrificial service whispers to a cynical world: Christ is real.
If we will love God as we ought, and love others as we ought, the gates of hell will fall. Souls now in bondage will be rescued. And Jesus’ prayer will be answered in our day. This is our mission. This is our joy. This is what it means to live—and if necessary to die—for something worth everything. All together. Amen.
