“My prayer is not for them alone.
I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message,
that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you
(Jesus, in John 17:21-22)
___________
PROLOGUE
“In John 17, Jesus prays for the unity of all believers, asking that they may be "one" just as He and the Father are one, so the world will believe God sent Him. This prayer, often called the High Priestly Prayer, emphasizes a deep spiritual oneness in love, truth, and purpose, reflecting the Trinity's unity, not mere uniformity, allowing believers to share the Father's glory and demonstrate God's love to the world.” [AI]
These questions fuel my inquiry:
What if Jesus petitioned the Father for our unity because he knew even his most faithful followers would be unable to agree on every theological jot-and-tittle?
What if his prayer for unity has nothing to do with our theological statements and systems?
What if Jesus was asking the Father to reveal to Christ followers that “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus”? (Galatians 3:28)
What if that means God is using our varied worship styles, modes of baptizing, eschatological emphases
, disciple-making methods, evangelistic models, and even our differing doctrinal distinctions to reach every person in every place with every worldview perspective.
Could it be when Jesus told his disciples to “Go and preach the good news to everyone in the world. (Mark 16:15), he was anticipating our plethora of denominations and ministries and expressions?
Could it be Jesus expects us to be different (not heretical, just not identical) and the Holy Spirit is prepared to use our differences to reach the many varied peoples in vastly different locations/situations who have diverging perspectives and purposes?
With “this Gospel.” (Mark 13:10)
PRELUDE: The Parable of the Ice Cream Shop
{Before mapping differences, we must first ask why this conversation matters at all}
There was an ice cream shop on the corner of a busy town.Above the door hung a sign that read: 31 Flavors
People came from everywhere—children and elders, locals and travelers, skeptics and seekers. The bell rang each time the door opened.
They loved the shop, especially the shopkeeper.
Inside, the freezers stretched along the wall, filled with flavors as far as the eye could see.
Some people walked straight to the counter and said,
“Chocolate. Always chocolate.”
They didn’t want to sample. They didn’t need variety. Chocolate had been faithful to them since childhood. It tasted like certainty. It tasted like home.
Others studied the menu carefully.
“I’ll have Neapolitan,” they said.
They liked the balance—chocolate, vanilla, strawberry together. One flavor alone felt incomplete. They wanted contrast, harmony, a reminder that sweetness could come in more than one form at the same time.
Some chose vanilla—but not plain.
“Vanilla with peanut butter,” they said.
They loved the simplicity of vanilla, but they needed something richer mixed in—something that stuck, something that gave depth. Vanilla alone felt too quiet for the life they had lived.
Others asked for flavors few people noticed.
“Pistachio” …. “Rum raisin” … “Mint chip—but only if it’s real mint.”
They had tasted things before that left them cautious. They wanted something honest, something that surprised them without overpowering them.
Children pressed their noses to the glass and pointed wildly.
“I want that one—the bright one!”
They didn’t yet have words for preference. They only knew delight.
A few stood off to the side, arms crossed.
“I don’t like ice cream,” they said.
But sometimes, quietly, they asked for a spoonful to try.
And then there were those who argued.
Chocolate-only people insisted chocolate was the real flavor.
Vanilla lovers said chocolate was too heavy.
Those who loved fruit said dairy itself was the problem.
They debated textures. They debated ingredients. They debated what ice cream was meant to be.
Meanwhile, the shopkeeper watched.
He had made every flavor himself. Same milk. Same cream. Same source.
Different recipes—not to confuse people, but to attract them, to welcome them.
When the arguing grew loud, he stepped forward and said,
“You are all here because you are hungry, craving the delicious refreshment of ice cream.”
They fell quiet.
“You are not choosing different foods.
You are responding to the same hunger, but everyone has been shaped by different stories, different circumstances have prompted you to be here today, and each of you has a distinct set of taste buds. Different flavors attract different people with their distinct set of needs and desires”
Someone asked, “Then which flavor is the right one?”
The shopkeeper smiled.
“The one that brings you inside.
The one that keeps you coming back.
The one that reminds you how much sweetness satisfies.”
He paused, then added,
“But don’t mistake your favorite shop or flavor for the ice cream itself.
And don’t despise another’s taste because it isn’t yours. And most of all, remember that as much as you enjoy your favorite flavor, it only tastes good is because of the ice cream shop proprietor.”
Outside, the bell rang again.
Another person entered.
And the shop remained open.
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There is one body, and one Spirit, even as you are called in one hope of your calling;
—Ephesians 4:3–6 (AV/KJV)