Summer is approaching, and with it comes longer days, brighter skies, and—for many of us—sunglasses. Though sunglasses can be worn year-round, they’re most often pulled out during summer to shield our eyes from the bright sun. Chances are you own a pair—or perhaps several. What colour are your lenses? Are they green, blue, grey, or brown? Some are reflective, others tinted lightly, some darkened almost to black.

Now imagine wearing green-tinted sunglasses. Everything you see is cast in a shade of green. It shapes how you perceive light, shadow, and even emotion. That’s the power of lenses—they don’t change what’s out there, but they do affect how we see it.

This metaphor is useful for thinking about faith. Just as we each wear different lenses, we also each view the world—and God—through unique perspectives. Our understanding of God is shaped by our culture, background, upbringing, life experiences, and even personality. Theologians call this our “theology”—our way of seeing and speaking about God.

But theology isn’t just for pastors or professors. In truth, we all have a theology. We all wear “God-lens sunglasses.” And just as no two pairs are exactly the same, no two people’s theologies are identical. That’s not a flaw. It’s a gift because our different perspectives help us see God more fully.

Today’s Gospel reading from John offers us the writer’s theological lens. Unlike the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, John’s Gospel is more poetic, reflective, and symbolic. He begins not with a manger or a baptism but with cosmic mystery: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

In John’s Gospel, Jesus and God are one. There is no clear line separating the two. Jesus is not only God’s messenger—he is God’s presence in the world, God’s Word made flesh. This is John’s lens, and it is profound.

In John 17, we hear Jesus’ Farewell Prayer. It’s his last prayer before the crucifixion. He prays for his disciples—and for us. What does he pray for? Not for wealth, success, or power, but for unity. “That they may be one, as we are one.”

What kind of oneness is this? It’s a unity not of sameness but of relationship. It’s grounded in love, trust, and mutual care.
To understand this better, let’s reflect on two key words John often uses: “know” and “believe.” These aren’t just intellectual terms. They speak of intimacy and connection. In Genesis 4:1, it says, “Adam knew Eve, and she conceived.” The Hebrew word used—yada—means deep, personal, mutual knowing. In John’s Gospel, to know God is to be in deep, abiding relationship.

Believing, too, isn’t just agreeing with an idea. It’s entrusting your whole self—heart, mind, and body—to God. It’s relational, not abstract. When John speaks of faith, he means relationship.

Jesus prays that his followers would be protected—not just from physical harm, but from things that distort our vision: pride, jealousy, hatred, racism, greed, and fear. He prays that we may be one with God and with each other—united through faith and love.

The Johannine community—John’s audience—needed this message. They were facing exclusion and persecution. The promised return of Christ hadn’t happened yet, and doubt had crept in. John’s Gospel speaks hope into their fear: Eternal life, he says, is not just in the future. It is now.

This is perhaps John’s boldest teaching: Eternal life begins the moment we live in relationship with God. Not someday when we die. Not only in heaven. But here. Today. Now.

This changes everything. Eternal life becomes not a reward, but a lived experience. When we love, forgive, share, and serve in God’s name, we are already living in eternity. It’s as if John hands us a new pair of sunglasses—lenses that reveal God’s presence in our daily lives.

So what about the Second Coming? When is Christ coming again? According to John, Christ comes again whenever we embody him—when we act with mercy, speak with truth, and love as he loved.

This is the lens John invites us to wear: a lens of hopeful, relational, embodied faith.

And this brings us to us—West Point Grey United Church. We are an intercultural congregation. This means more than simply having people from different backgrounds. It means creating what some call a “Third Space”—a sacred, mutual space where cultures interact with respect and curiosity, rather than dominance or assimilation.

In this Third Space, we listen to one another. We learn. We challenge and comfort. We grow. It’s not always easy, but it is holy work. And it is gospel work.

When we embrace one another’s perspectives—when we respect each other’s God-lens sunglasses—we become more whole. We become more like the body of Christ. We begin to live the eternal life Jesus speaks of: a life rooted in unity, love, and justice.

We don’t all need to see God the same way. But we do need to walk together in faith. That is what Jesus prays for: that we may be one. And that is what we are called to be.

If we wear the lenses of love, of justice, of grace, and if we allow the Holy Spirit to guide us, then we will indeed see and feel God’s presence—here and now. Eternal life becomes real in community, in faith, and in action.

That’s not too ambitious a dream. Because we are not alone. Jesus promises us the Advocate, the Helper, the Holy Spirit. And God is with us—always has been, always will be.

Thanks be to God. Amen.