Rev. Rob Jones
May 6, 2026
John 14:15-21 NRSVue
“If you love me, you will keep my commandments. 16And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. 17This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.
18“I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. 19In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. 20On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. 21They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.”
Today we listen again to the words of Jesus in John 14:15–21. These are not distant, abstract words. They are spoken by a man on the eve of His death—words of love, obedience, and the gift of the Holy Spirit.
If you love me, you will keep my commandments. 16And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever…” (John 14:15–16)
I want to explore this passage using a few stories—to see how these truths take shape in real lives, in our lives.
A Parable About A Gardener and A Wild Vine
There was once a gardener with a wild, tangled vine at the back of his property. The vine was unruly and had grown in every direction, wrapping itself around old fences, choking nearby plants, bearing only a few sour grapes.
At first glance, the vine didn’t deserve much attention. It was messy and unpromising. But the gardener loved vines. He saw the potential in what it could become.
He didn’t stand at a distance with a list of rules for the vine: Grow straight. Bear better fruit. Stop tangling yourself. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves, stepped into the thicket, and began pruning what didn’t need to be there. He cut away what was dead, lifted what had fallen into the dirt, tied up what was sagging, and then he watered the roots.
Over time, our gardener began to notice a change. The vine began to grow differently. It grew straight and true the way the gardener had envisioned. It didn’t grow straight and strong because it feared the gardener; it grew that way because it had been loved. The care came first. The fruitfulness followed.
This is a picture of the gospel. Those who walk with the Lord understand this instinctively; obedience doesn’t earn God’s love; obedience is the fruit of God’s prior love and grace.
Jesus says, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” Those words are not the threat of a harsh master. They are the description of a transformed heart. The love comes first—God’s love for us, poured out in Christ, applied by the Spirit, awakening our love for the divine. It is from a renewed heart that obedience begins to grow.
The Promise of the Spirit: A Parable of the Lantern in the Dark
A traveler walks along a mountain path at dusk. When he set out, the sky was bright and clear. But as night fell, the trail grew harder to see. The stones were sharper underfoot, the cliff edge less visible. The traveler had been given a small lantern by his father before he left home. At first, he considered it unnecessary. “I can see well enough,” he thought. “I know the way.” So, he carried it unlit.
But as it became dark, he stumbled more often. Anxiety rose in his heart. The path that once seemed obvious began to disappear. As the darkness set in, his eyes were useless. Finally, he remembered the lantern. He opened it, and to his surprise, the flame was already there, waiting to be kindled into full brightness. He hadn’t placed it there. He hadn’t created it. His father had.
This small light was not magical. It didn’t remove the stones from the path. It simply showed him where to step. It didn’t erase the cliff edge; it revealed to him where the danger was. It didn’t transport him instantly to his destination. No, it did none of that. This simple light graciously guided him through the darkness.
Jesus says, “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever… You know him, because he abides with you and he will be in you.”
Our humanity limits our faith. Even our obedience is not something we ignite by our own strength. The Holy Spirit is the One who kindles the flame in our hearts. God does not simply give us commands and then leave us in the dark to figure them out. He gives us Himself. The Spirit feeds our faith, strengthens our obedience, and sustains us as we journey on.
The Spirit: enables us to take up our C.A.L.L.
- Convicts us of sin—but not to crush us, rather to lead us to Christ.
- Assures us—that we are children of God, adopted by grace, not by performance.
- Lights the Word, so that Scripture is not just ink on a page but living truth.
- Liberates us—Frees us to obey. Not in our own strength, but in the strength God supplies.
This is God’s initiative from beginning to end. The Father sends the Son. The Son asks the Father. The Father and the Son send the Spirit. Our salvation and sanctification rest on God. Not on our grip, but on God’s grip on us. Our call is to embrace God’s grace.
A Third Parable: A Child in a Crowd
A boy went to town with his father to a large, busy market. To this small boy the noise was loud—voices calling out, music playing, people hurrying in every direction. All the while the boy clung tightly to his father’s hand.
For a moment, the boy became distracted by a colorful stall. Something in it caught his eye. What it was no one can be sure; a bright balloon, a shiny toy, a spinning pinwheel—it all happened so fast. In that instant, he let go of his father’s hand to point at that something which caught his eye. In the busy crowd, a few people passed between them, and then suddenly he could no longer see his father’s face.
Panic rose in his chest as his heart began to beat faster. His eyes filled with tears. He felt alone, abandoned, lost in the noise and commotion of the crowd.
But in reality, his father had never left. The father had stepped only a pace aside to let people pass, his eyes never leaving his son. As soon as he saw the boy’s distress, he called out his name. The boy recognized the voice immediately. The sound of that familiar voice cut through the noise of the market. The father reached out, took his son in his arms, and held him close. The crowd did not disappear. The noise did not cease. But the boy was no longer afraid, because he knew: My father is with me.
Jesus says, “I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you.”
There are moments in our lives when God feels distant—when prayers feel unanswered, when grief sits heavy on our hearts, when the world seems loud, and we feel small. But in Christ, by the Holy Spirit, we are never truly alone.
Christ, in this lesson, tells his disciples then, and assures us right now that:
- He has joined us to Himself by grace.
- He has sealed His promises to us in the Holy Spirit.
- He has pledged never to leave nor forsake His people.
The scriptures assure us that even when our feelings fail, it is Christ’s promise that stands. Amen?
- One last Story: The Heart of the Matter
A musician received a finely crafted instrument as a gift. She did not purchase it. She did not build it. Someone else, out of love, placed it in her hands.
At first, the girl’s playing is clumsy—she plays all the wrong notes and missed rhythms. She has uncertain hands. But the gift of the instrument comes with something more: the ongoing presence of a teacher. Patiently, lovingly, the teacher guides her—correcting, encouraging, strengthening her skill.
Over time, her hands begin to move more freely. Sounds that were once harsh become beautiful. When people hear her play, they do not say, “What a wonderful student,” they proclaim, “What a remarkable gift—and what a patient teacher.”
The gift of the Holy Spirit is just like this. The gift is Christ Himself—His righteousness credited to us by grace alone, through faith alone. The teacher is the Holy Spirit, sanctifying us, shaping us, conforming us to the image of Christ. The music is our life of obedience—imperfect, often halting, yet slowly beautified by the work of God within us.
We don’t offer our obedience to God as some kind of payment. We obey Him out of gratitude. God’s grace is what saves us, and our obedience is simply our thankful response.
When Jesus says, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments,” He’s not putting a heavy burden on slaves. He’s inviting sons and daughters—people who’ve been adopted, redeemed, and filled with the Holy Spirit—to live out their love for Him.
So, I ask you, is your obedience flowing from love, or from fear? Do you see the Spirit’s gentle work in your life—convicting, comforting, guiding, and strengthening you? When you feel alone, do you remember the promise of Jesus: “I will not leave you as orphaned”?
Some feel distant from God, distant from hope, distant from the warmth of faith. If you feel like this, hear this clearly: Christ does not call you with a clenched fist and a voice of condemnation. He calls you with nail-scarred hands and a voice of mercy.
He does not say, Obey, and maybe I will love you. He says, I have loved you with an everlasting love; now, by my Spirit, let my love shape your life.
Closing Reflection
As you hear these words, I invite you to pause and open your heart to God. The same Jesus who spoke in that upper room speaks by His Spirit today.
Pray with me:
Holy Spirit, I invite You now to shine the light of Christ into every corner of my life. Kindle in me a deeper love for Jesus, and shape my obedience as a grateful response to the grace I have already received. In Jesus’ name I humbly pray. AMEN.
