The following is an excerpt from Jesus Gets What He Prays For.
In John 17, Jesus prays “let [my disciples] be one, just as we [the Father and the Son] are one. If we are to understand what Jesus is praying for us, we must understand something of how God is one.
Concertgoers crowded into the chapel at Concordia Lutheran Seminary in St. Louis.
A brown, variegated stone exterior with a square steeple opened into an expansive worship space, with vaulted ceilings, stone floors, and high stained glass. I found my seat near the front of the church, on the far right.
About fifty singers and musicians arranged themselves in rows before the altar. The dull roar of hundreds of independent conversations suddenly hushed. The conductor, rising to his place, stilled the crowd with a flick of his wrist. With another flick, a wave of sound crashed over us.
“Kyrie Eleison”
The first movement of Bach’s Mass in B-Minor is a mournful lament, “Lord, have mercy.”
The lines of music wove together in harmony and deepest tension. The beauty of what sounded like a funeral march was immersive, all-encompassing. The music knew me better than I knew myself. I felt like I could go without happiness forever to keep experiencing the beautiful sadness of the first movement. And that was just the beginning.
As the first part of the Mass neared an end, a bass soloist, accompanied by french horn, bellowed out:
“For you alone are the Holy One. You alone are the Lord. You, Jesus Christ, alone are the Most High.”
Suddenly, breaking in out of nowhere, the choir and orchestra erupted at full volume:
“Cum Sancto Spiritu in gloria Dei Patris. Amen.”
“With the Holy Spirit to the glory of God the Father. Amen.”
As the Holy Spirit was invoked, He fell on the room.
For a skeptical teenager with very little personal experience of God, that moment went beyond the beauty of music. God was there. He was immanent. I felt I was experiencing the music of Father, Son, and Spirit, the inner life of the Trinity right before my eyes. In that moment, I knew God was real. As the piece ended, I thought my heart would explode from my chest. All of us rushed to our feet, erupting in praise and applause. The crowd became a united congregation, praising God with one voice.
There is a unique connection between music and the presence of God[1]. In the book of Revelation, we read that God’s throne in heaven is constantly surrounded by musicians playing instruments and singing songs. Many of the songs of Heaven are recorded word for word. King David, who was a prophet, tried to model his kingdom on God’s heavenly Kingdom. He did this by pitching a tent, placing the Ark of the Covenant, the seat of God’s presence, in the center, and arranging 24/7 worship and praise music around the Ark.
Think about it: God could have anything He wants surrounding His throne in Heaven. Why does He have music?
Perhaps because music uniquely communicates the unity and diversity of the Trinity. Perhaps God loves music because the inner life of God is a song.
The Movements of God’s Inner Life: A Thought Experiment
“In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him...” John 1:1-3
We might paraphrase John 1:1-3 this way:
“Before the beginning there was a song. The Father sang it to the Son, and the Son sang back to the Father. The song was the inner life of God.”
There was never a time before the song started. And yet, like any song it has a beginning, middle, and end. The chorus follows the verse. One movement leads to the next movement. As created beings we are entering the eternal song already in progress. And yet, incredibly, we can still discern the distinct movements of the music.
Let’s do a thought experiment.
Let’s use John 17 and the other Scriptures to map out the major movements of God’s inner life. Let’s see if we can describe the song the Father and Son have been singing since before the foundation of the world. Of course, there are many things about God’s inner life we don’t know and could never understand. There are many details of their life that have not been revealed. Our understanding is partial.
In a similar way, a road-map can never show every detail of the roads, trees, or buildings of an area. Maps are always partial. However, like a map, our description can be true, accurate, and helpful if we stick close to the testimony of Scripture.
Movement 1: The Father’s First Act
We know the Triune God is eternal with no beginning or end. We also know the Father and the Son have a relationship before creation that is characterized by an exchange of glory between one another. This glory exchange is at the forefront of Jesus’s mind as He prays for himself in John 17:1-5. We know the Father is the initiator within the Trinity. He is the source. The very names “Father” and “Son” clearly communicate this reality.
Even though there was never a “first time,” let’s imagine the Father being aware of Himself as if it were the first time He was conscious[2]. He would immediately perceive His glory, greatness, His total power and blessedness.
No sooner is the Father aware of Himself, His name, His glory, His goodness and all that He possesses, than instantly He has a shocking desire. His deepest desire is to give everything that He has to another.
We could understand the Father wanting to share some of the glory of who He is, but this is not His desire. He wants to give everything—the fullness. In a stunning act, He gives all His fullness, all of His “Godness” to another, the only Begotten one, the Son of God.
The Father’s first movement is to beget a Son in His own image, to give His fullness to another. He sends forth His Spirit, and the fullness of His love goes forth to fill His Son with the same glory that fills Him[3].
This “first movement” is what Paul is describing when He says, “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation…for it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him[4]”
This is what Jesus was remembering when he prayed, “Now, Father, glorify Me…with the glory I had with you before the world was.”
While there is no “before” this moment (and I want to be very clear about that), this is the first movement in the divine song. The Father gives all His glory, all His love, all His life, all His light to another one, the Only Begotten Son. This is what it means for the Son to be “in the bosom of the Father.” It’s to be the recipient of the fullness of the Father’s name, reality, love, and glory for all eternity.
Looking at it from the outside, we might consider the Father’s first act to be reckless and irresponsible.
Would it not make more sense to keep His divine nature to Himself? Or, if it was to be given away, to give only a portion of Himself? What compels Him to give the fullness of His “Godness” to the Son? And how will the Son respond?
Movement 2: The Son Receives the Father’s Gift
As the fullness of God’s nature is revealed to Him, we can imagine the Son “waking up” as from a deep sleep, becoming aware of Himself immediately as the beneficiary of all the love, glory, and power of the Father[5]. He would first encounter the mind-bending splendor, glory, and beauty of the Father. The Son would be completely overwhelmed by this vision of glory, overpowered by unapproachable light.
He would simultaneously know that He Himself now has “equality with God”[6] and that He has done nothing to deserve it—it has come as a free gift. All the attributes of the Father are now also His. The Son is the happy recipient of all the glory, beauty, and honor of the Father. He rightly recognizes Himself to be the Father’s equal in every respect, except for priority. He has the fullness of God!
How will the Son respond to the Father’s gift? How could the Father take the risk of giving everything to another?
Movement 3: Returning Glory
The Son is completely overwhelmed by the Father’s beauty, glory and generosity. He does not consider this indescribable gift, equality with God[7], as something to be grasped onto or held with a tight fist. He does not hoard the fullness of God to Himself, even though the Father has given it to Him. Instead, in gratitude and praise to His Father, overwhelmed by His glory, beauty, and generosity, the only thing the Son can think of doing is to give everything He has received back to the Father.
Like His Father, He holds nothing back.
He empties Himself and commits His Spirit to the Father[8]. He returns the fullness of God that was given to Him back to God the Father.
This article is a chapter excerpt from Jesus Gets What He Prays For by Jonathan Friz. Click the button to order the book. Paid subcsribers may continue reading the article below.