15 My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one. 16 They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. 17 Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth. 18 As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world. (John 17: 15-18)

“In” and “of” are small two-letter prepositions, but the difference they make in John 17: 15-18 is quite phenomenal. If we fail to distinguish and discern between them, we fail to execute a balanced Christian lifestyle that is at once relevant to our times and yet entirely consecrated to God. The church has always struggled with this. Sacred and secular are words that have always challenged our perspective and actions … this dichotomy, much like the intractable Gordian Knot, will never be completely resolved without Alexander the Great’s pragmatic solution until the day Jesus comes again.

The fact is, we were meant to live out the puzzle. John 17: 15-19 gives us the context and premise of how we are to live our lives as the marturoi (witnesses) of Christ. Jesus affirms, in his high priestly prayer for his disciples, that they are  “not of the world” for they are united with him and the Father. Certainly, Jesus and the Father are not of this world! The disciples had heard the message of Christ; they had embraced it; they had become different both in nature as in action by this very identification with Christ. Therefore, they were separated from the world. The affiliation and allegiance to Christ meant that they could no longer think or live as they had done before. No wonder Jesus prayed for his little flock’s protection. After he was gone, they would need all the help they could get! Just as the world rejected and hated him, he promised his disciples that it would reject and hate them too.

And yet …

Jesus did not ask the Father to “take them out of the world”. He simply prayed that they would be protected by the Father’s care, and that they should rest under the banner of his love. He would be Jehovah Nissi to them, and they would be his beloved.

No one knew the implications or impact of this prayer then, but the disciples would experience firsthand what it meant in the book of Acts. This motley crew turned the world upside down. In retrospect, we understand that Jesus prayed for their protection by God, and their sanctification by the Spirit, as they worked out their lives in the world, not out of it. He anticipated the time when they would be sanctified vessels, carrying the life and power of the Lord as they went about declaring the Good News. Jesus in John 17: 18 confirmed that they had a calling: “I have sent them into the world.”

We struggle with this calling as much as they did. The apostles walked the tightrope between what was consecrated and what was worldly; what was permissible and what was not; what was beneficial and what was not. Should the Gentiles eat with us, Peter? Should Titus be circumcised, Paul? Should women speak? Should they cover their heads …? These were the questions of their day as they worked out how to live “in” the world while not being “of” it. One step in the wrong direction would have seriously deflated and weakened their witness (“You’re no different from us”). One step out of line would have meant a Christianity that was hard, oppressive and out of time (“You’re weird, outdated fanatics”).

Today, that same tightrope confronts us. How much of the world’s culture should we allow? What is the cut-off point? Or is there one? Should we withdraw into a reclusive Christian community singing only overtly “Christian” songs (“Is secular music from hell?”), read only “Christian” books (“Is Harry Potter the devil?”), speak only “Christian” words (“Can we say ’damn’?”)? Or should we embrace the world, its music, its drama, its thoughts, its vibes, as if there were no difference between “us” and “them”? Exclusivity and inclusivity … how much is too much? How little is not enough?

The questions of context and culture have changed. But our premise has not. We are still called to remain in the world, for Christ has not prayed that the Father would take us out as yet. Why? He has sent us into the world as sanctified and sanctifying agents with a message for all who would hear. To withdraw reclusively would make the Christian faith a ghettoised religion … to unthinkingly embrace everything would make the Christian faith as effective as dead wood. Our lives stand somewhere in the balance between these extremes. It requires the genius of discernment and incisive critical thought of Christ’s mind in us to tell the difference and sustain the balance.

We veer from one extreme to the other in contemporary Christian spirituality. I suspect it is because we neither have the genius or spirit of discernment nor do we possess the incisive wisdom of the Lord’s Spirit. Our life is as lame as our words; our understanding as split as our thoughts.

Many of us may not remember this hymn, “A Mighty Fortress is Our God”. It made waves in Martin Luther’s day because he took what was a lewd and loud bar song and put the tune to Christian lyrics. The result was a magnificent hymn that became a staple (till recently) in Christian hymnbooks and services. Luther is popularly known to have said of this bold move of contextualisation: “Why should the devil have all the good music?”

What does contextualisation mean for us today? How the church progresses depends on how we puzzle out this matter in our heads and our lives. It is ours to puzzle out, unfortunately …

“As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world” (John 17: 18).