There are scriptures that shimmer quietly—verses that don’t shout but seem to vibrate with the presence of something deeper. John 17:20–26 is one of them. It carries within it a heartbeat that echoes beyond time: the prayer of Jesus, not only for his disciples, but for all who would one day believe.
It is a prayer of longing. Of glory. Of oneness.
And if we listen closely, it invites us into a mystery that the modern Church often glances past: the possibility of union with God.
“That They May All Be One”
In this final portion of his great prayer, Jesus says:
“As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us…” (John 17:21)
This is not metaphor. It is not poetry. It is reality—radical, relational, and deeply mystical.
Jesus is not simply asking for cooperation or community. He is speaking of indwelling. Of divine participation. Of a life so entangled with God that the lines blur, not in a loss of self, but in the fullness of self held within divine love.
This is the language of union. The language of oneness.
And it is striking how rarely we speak of it.
A Forgotten Thread in Western Theology?
The idea of union with God—being “in Christ” as Christ is in the Father—has deep roots in Christian tradition. The early Church Fathers spoke of it as theosis or divinization, not in the sense of becoming God in essence, but in participating in God’s life and love.
The Celtic tradition understood this too. There was a gentle assumption in much of early Celtic Christianity that God was not far, but present in all things—accessible, immanent, and within.
And yet today, I feel much of Western Christianity seems to focus outward. On believing the right things. Behaving in the right ways. Belonging to the right groups. But what about becoming? What about the inner transformation that arises not through effort, but through union?
Jesus prays that we would share in the divine life he shares with the Father. Not admire it from afar. Not intellectualise it. Not perform for it. Share in it.
This is the heart of the Gospel.
The Glory Already Given
“The glory that you have given me I have given them…” (John 17:22)
Just take a moment with this verse, it is breathtaking is it not?
We don’t often think of glory as something given to us. We sing of God’s glory. We speak of Christ’s glory. But Jesus says here that the glory given to him by the Father is given to us.
What is this glory?
In John’s Gospel, glory is never about power, spectacle, or dominance. It is about revelation. About love made visible. About the unveiling of divine beauty, humility, and grace.
The glory Jesus receives from the Father is the radiant love of being one with the Source. And he gives us that same glory—not as something to boast about, but as the very means by which we enter the oneness he shares with God.
The glory is not to elevate us, but to draw us into love.
The Oneness Is Already Ours
If we take Jesus at his word, the oneness he describes is not a distant promise. It is a present reality.
The tragedy is that we often don’t recognise it. We are so conditioned to see ourselves as separate—from God, from each other, even from our own souls—that we miss the invitation.
But Jesus doesn’t pray that we might one day become one.
He says:
“I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one…” (John 17:23)
This is a reality that unfolds as we allow ourselves to live from the place of divine indwelling. It is not earned. It is received. And it is recognised most fully when we stop trying to strive for it, and start learning to abide in it.
This is the mystery Paul points to when he writes, “Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:27).
Why This Is So Often Missed
I think perhaps the modern Church avoids the language of union because it cannot be easily explained. It doesn’t fit into neat boxes. It isn’t transactional. It doesn’t always behave.
Union with God is personal. Relational. And transformative.
It asks more than attendance. It asks for attention.
It requires that we shift from viewing God as an external figure to recognising God as the very ground of our being, the Presence in whom we live, move, and have our being (Acts 17:28).
This is uncomfortable for those who prefer a God at a distance. But it is also deeply healing for those who have felt separated, unworthy, or cast out.
Living From Oneness
So how do we live this?
We begin by noticing. By becoming aware.
By pausing before rushing to do, and instead learning to be.
By recognising the divine in the ordinary. The sacred in the soil. The Christ in the stranger. The Spirit in our own breath.
And then, from that awareness, we begin to love—not from effort, but from overflow.
We become, not in name only, but in truth, the Body of Christ—each of us living from the one life, expressing it in our unique and beautiful ways.
This is not some esoteric dream. It is the prayer of Jesus. It is the call of the Church. And it is the quiet revolution the world is crying out for.
A Final Thought
“That they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us.”
This is not the voice of a remote God making demands. This is the voice of Christ inviting us into communion.
Oneness is not something we must manufacture. It is already given. Already gifted. Already true.
Our task is simply to wake up to it.
To receive the glory that has already been shared.
And to live as if we are not alone.
Because we never were.
Ancient Whispers 
Leave a comment