Week of Prayer for Christian Unity 2025

 

Hannah Hochkeppel

My prayer for our communities is that we seek the kind of unity that builds bridges over non-negotiables and polarization, while expanding our hearts with curiosity for what we can learn from each other. There are rivers of inspiration that run through our traditions and sacred texts that can create fertile ground for unity.

The reading from John 11 for this week shows Martha going out to meet Jesus in grief. There she is the beloved disciple receiving Jesus’ revelation. There is no accident about this—she runs out to meet Jesus halfway, and there Jesus reveals most clearly who he is. This is a “come and see” story, where Martha tells Mary what she has heard, others follow, and Jesus is taken to see where Lazarus has been laid. It is an active story where revelation is made possible by action rooted in trust and belief.

Our ecumenical and interfaith lives are also “come and see” stories. Raised Catholic in a Vatican II church, I have witnessed hundreds of ways ecumenical and interfaith efforts have brought together communities for the common good. People of multiple faiths have created collaborative ways to live out their faiths more deeply. Such spaces for understanding and working together make us wiser believers and bring us closer to unity.

And what can we believe, not only as individuals, but in community? Together the beauty of our own teachings can be amplified by the beauty of another’s teachings, like love of our neighbor. Together our beliefs in justice can create safety for all. Together we can act to protect creation and the future of our planet.

These are some beliefs that enliven my ecumenical and interfaith imagination. Theologian Paul Knitter’s work on multifaith dialogue asserts that the key to interfaith dialogue is to get our hands dirty together—to discover our mutual values not just through talk, but working together on a common project. May we identify opportunities for such “come and see” moments and move toward unity through action together!

Elise DeGooyer

For many, Jesus’ question to Martha can sound like a call to believe in a life-eternal insurance policy. But he was asking her to believe in something much bigger.

The messianic promise was that the Creator would send a Truly Human One to liberate the People of Israel from this Kingdom of Death and restore them to peace. Those who had been crushed by the Empire would be raised from the dead. Lazarus was the first among many—a sign that the Kindom of Life was breaking through.

This promise pointed to a messianic feast where all the tribes of the world would gather. The Creator would gently wipe the tears from every face, the shroud of fear would be lifted, and former enemies and strangers would sit together at a table of peace—a potluck of healing.

Jesus wasn’t asking Martha to entertain an idea. He was asking if she could trust that a new world was on its way and whether she would risk everything for it. Lazarus’ resurrection would bring the Empire’s gaze upon her family—a gaze few survived. And yet, she said, “Yes.”

Do we believe this? And what are we willing to risk for the life of this world to come?

One of those risks is to put our differences as Christians into perspective. The heavenly potluck Jesus promised requires many hands and diverse gifts. No single Christian tradition or community holds all that is needed.

Jesus invites us to trust in something bigger: to risk everything with our Christian siblings for this potluck of healing – a vision big enough for all our beautiful diversity and gifts.

Terry Kyllo

I have to admit, I don’t like the question Jesus asks Martha in this text. And that’s all about me, immersed as I am in a culture of competition and contention, partisanship and cancel culture. At first glance, it feels like an ultimatum – do you believe this? Are you one of us? Are you on the right side? Even within my reaction, I’m embodying the same norms and biases. 

But once I take a breath, and step back, I can see the larger context. Jesus isn’t presenting Martha with a pop-quiz, pass or fail. The question is rooted in a relationship, and is posed in the midst of trauma; so there must be something deeply pastoral in it, something healing and comforting. I imagine Jesus holding Martha’s hands in this moment of deep grief and anger, offering her a vision of radical, transformative love and life, and gently waiting for her affirmation. 

Since the early days of the Jesus movement, his followers have been grappling with questions of belief.  The ecumenical councils, of which Nicaea was the first, have been opportunities for discussion, refinement, and embodied unity.  Those conversations haven’t always gone well.  I am sometimes comforted, sometimes disappointed, that Jesus’ disciples often did and continue to exemplify unity poorly, often say one thing and do another, often meet our differences with disdain or even violence.  

But Jesus’ question meets us in our most difficult moment, offering hope. He gives us the opportunity to claim positively the vision of the world we want to co-create. He invites us to love what God loves and to get out of our heads long enough to let it settle into our hearts. 

Because of the Spirit’s unbreakable gift of unity in diversity, we can turn to one another, not as adversaries, but with tears in our eyes for the broken and beautiful world we inhabit, and ask one another “What do we believe together about God’s hope for this time?”  Our answers to that questions matter.  Working through those answers together is our shared path forward. 

Kara Markell, D.Min.

“It’s the year 325 and it’s a pretty chill time to be a Christian,” according to the board game, Nicaea, by Amabel Holland. In the game, up to six players battle for 90 minutes over conflicting theological truths amid a lack of Christian unity in their effort to win the approval of the first Christian Roman Emperor. In an hour and a half, the winner with the most “power, unity, and truth,” sets the future course for Christendom. 

Nicaea was more than a board game; during the 2025 International Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, commemorated around the world, we remember this is also the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea. For its first four hundred years, unity was the keystone Christian value.i The Greek word for unity is a feminine noun henotēs (ἑνότης), which means a daily “oneness” that requires attention and diligence (Ephesians 4:3 and 13). Oἶκος (oikos) is another Greek word that translates ‘extended household,’ popularized by the Apostle Paul also evident in the early Christian house church movement. Taken together, unity is an organic, maturing, even mystical oneness requiring the labors of its members who are sinewed into one household and increasingly across households; unity is a keystone value understood as the spiritual DNA of Christian identity, drawn up like water from the earliest teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. 

The first four centuries leading to Nicaea reveal a unifying, multi-generational Christian leadership that was, in its stellar executive moments, an enculturating force connected to its apostolic roots and open to emerging forms of local self-governance. These early leaders proved able to overcome major divisions to adapt to changing political and religious contexts, learning from new models including a centralizing, governing power with a capacity to observe, to interpret, and to intervene at critical junctures. They effectively orchestrated and maximized appropriate levels of discernment to the advantage of unity, truth, and civic influence. These leaders excelled through synods and ecumenical councils for an astounding seven hundred years, the last ecumenical council of its kind taking place in 787 CE, at the Council of Nicaea II. 

Today we live in a world where Christian values are being used to justify a rise of national protectionism, evident in American Christian Nationalism in the United States. The German elections set for February 23, 2025 follow a resurgent far-right ‘Alternative for Germany’ (AfD) party; in England, the Reform UK party is experiencing a surge in membership, surpassing that of the Conservatives, and is projected to make substantial gains in upcoming local elections, beating out Tories and the Labor Party. Similar trends are evident in Poland, Hungary, Sweden, Finland, and Italy.  

The relationship between Christianity and right-wing political movements varies across Europe. In some cases, elements of Christian identity and symbolism are invoked to support nationalist agendas. In Austria, the Freedom Party explicitly identifies Christianity as the “spiritual foundation of Europe” in its opposition to relativism and support of nationalism.  In Hungary, Prime Minister Viktor Orbán’s Fidesz party emphasizes Hungary’s Christian heritage to justify policies against immigration and to advocate for traditional family structures.  

The degree to which Christianity is utilized to justify right-wing politics will vary across the company of nations, and yet there is little doubt that the industrialized nations are experiencing a reconsideration of their longstanding relationship with liberal egalitarianism.  

The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity reminds faithful around the world that Christianity is not the national or spiritual property of any country, nor was it ever intended to be. Religion operates otherwise, seeking to liberate in ways that are both transcendental and transnational, lowering barriers in ourselves and between others, and seeking to create loyalties uncoerced by idealogues and political opportunists.  The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity is intended to restore confidence in the difficult work of unity that endures through every hardship, especially in times when unity is out of fashion. 

Michael Reid Trice, Ph.D., EMBA

Do You Believe This? Reflection on John 11:17-27  

In this story, Jesus finally arrives to the town of Bethany. Seeing it was only 2 miles (3 km) from Jerusalem I imagine a little irritation in Martha in her unspoken thoughts, what took you so long?   Yet busy Martha hurried out to meet Jesus. She believed if Jesus had been there, her brother Larazus would not have died. Why does it feel like Jesus is not showing up the way we think He should or could? Perhaps Lazarus could have survived for 2-3 days without water and could have been healed, but after four days, he was definitely dead.  He would need a miracle.  

Jesus tells Martha her brother would rise again, and she responds thinking he means life after death, resurrection. Jesus explains he is both resurrection and life and says, ‘whoever lives by believing in me will never die.’ Do you believe this? Martha says, “Yes, Lord.”  She believed God was with her. 

Do I believe this? Do you believe this? Do you believe God is with us? The Nicene Creed created 1700 years ago is the only ecumenical creed we have that begins with: “I believe in one God…”  Modern people outside of the church believe in many other things including: science, nature, technology, humanism, and philosophies. What gives meaning to our lives? 

For those of us in faith communities, the question of do you believe this? is being asked of each of us. Martha was grieving, upset and still knew to come meet Jesus.  Many of us may be asking the same unspoken question in our hearts, “what is taking you so long, God?”  We may be grieving and upset with much in the world and in the church but let us take her example. Martha believes before the miracle.   Let me do the same. 

Diane Tomhave, MA

How Do We Ask The Question?

The biblical text for The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity (John 11: 17-27) invites us to reflect on Jesus’ question to Martha as she grieves the death of her friend Lazarus.  Jesus says to Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life.  The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die” (NIV).  Then Jesus asks, “Do you believe this?”  What is Jesus expecting in response to his question?  What is his reason for asking it, especially in that tense and difficult moment?  Remember, Martha is filled with sorrow.   

I cannot imagine Jesus asking the question expecting any particular answer from Martha.  I can only imagine him overcome with compassion, broken-hearted in the face of Martha’s grief, and desiring, above all else, to bring her comfort.  From this perspective, the answer to the question is of less importance than Jesus’ intention in asking it.

Despite the liturgical diversity and theological variations within the Christian community, the belief in Jesus as the incarnate Son of God stands as a unifying factor.  Yet what is unifying within the Christian community has been used as a device to divide, exclude, and judge.  Too often, the Christian community asks Jesus’ question with the intention of separating believers from nonbelievers.

During The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, let us reflect as much on the way we ask the question as on how we answer it.  When we ask the question, let us seek dialogue over exclusion, compassion over judgment, and equanimity over self-righteousness.  Let us offer the question as an unconditional gift and is so doing model our faith in Mary’s response: “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world” (John 11: 27).

Don Manning