Sixth Sunday of Easter Reflection
READING: John 14 15-21
A bridge over troubled waters
When you’re weary, feeling small,
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all…”
Many of us know those words from the song Bridge Over Troubled Water.
They have lasted because they speak to something deeply human: the longing not to be left alone when life becomes difficult.ll
The image at the centre of the song is simple but powerful.
A bridge does not make the troubled water disappear.
The waters still rage beneath.
The grief remains real.
The uncertainty remains real.
But a bridge means there is a way through, and that someone is willing to stand with us as we cross.
That is not far from the promise Jesus makes in this passage from John’s Gospel:
“I will not leave you orphaned.”
Not abandoned.
Not forgotten.
Not left alone to carry life by ourselves.
We may hear the word “orphaned” and think first of children who have lost parents. But in the ancient world the word carried a wider meaning too. To be orphaned was to be left vulnerable, disconnected, without protection or belonging. And most people, at some point in life, know something of that feeling.
Bereavement can leave us orphaned. The death of someone whose presence steadied our lives can leave a silence that feels immense. Illness can do it. Redundancy can do it. Relationships breaking down can do it. Even in a crowded and connected world, people can carry deep loneliness quietly within themselves.
Sometimes the hardest part of suffering is not the pain itself, but the fear that we are facing it alone.
And into that fear comes this promise from Jesus:
“I will not leave you orphaned.”
Notice what he does not say. He does not promise that life will suddenly become easy. He does not say there will be no grief, no confusion, no troubled waters. Instead, he promises presence.
That matters. Because often what sustains people is not quick answers or perfect certainty, but the discovery that someone remains beside them.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus is preparing his disciples for his departure. They have built their lives around his presence, and now they are anxious about what comes next. One can almost hear the unspoken question beneath the conversation:
What happens when the one who held us together is no longer here?
Jesus answers by speaking about the Advocate, the Spirit, the continuing presence of divine love among them. In other words, they will not be abandoned to face life alone.
Perhaps that is what faith often becomes — not escape from the realities of life, but the discovery of companionship within the.
And perhaps that is where the image of the bridge matters so much.
A bridge is something that connects what has been separated. It allows passage where otherwise there might only be danger or isolation. We have all needed bridges at different times in our lives. Sometimes another person becomes that bridge for us: a friend who listens, a neighbour who notices, a community that refuses to let grief become invisible.
And perhaps the church is called to be a bridge too.
Not a fortress separated from the world, but a place where people can cross safely through difficult times. A place where nobody has to hide their struggles or pretend they are always strong. A place where people are known by name, where sorrow can be spoken honestly, where compassion matters more than appearances.
The world creates many forms of orphaning. People are excluded, dismissed, isolated, made to feel they do not belong. Public life can become harsh and fragmented. Many carry burdens silently.
The calling of Christian community is to stand against that abandonment.
To say, in word and action:
You are not alone.
You matter.
We will walk with you.
Because at the heart of the Gospel is not simply a set of beliefs, but a relationship of enduring presence. The promise that even when the waters are troubled, love remains.
“I will not leave you orphaned.”
In a lonely and fragmented world, those words still have the power to reach people deeply. And perhaps every act of kindness, every moment of companionship, every refusal to abandon another human being becomes, in its own small way, a bridge over troubled water.
Image: Envato.com
