Bring me an ice tea.

 

It's an imperative.

 

In terms of grammar, an imperative falls somewhere between a statement and a question, somewhere between a request and a demand. There's an unspoken urgency in an imperative. It is, well, imperative.

 

Bring me an ice tea. No, now.

 

Too, an imperative can reflect a deep desire.

 

The apostles, understandably, rarely used an imperative in conversation with Jesus.

 

But--at the beginning of Jesus' public ministry and again at its close--the apostles came to Jesus with a pair of significant imperatives. Their expressed desires offer insight into their development during three-and-a-half years together.

At the beginning, the disciples came to Jesus and said, "Lord, teach us to pray" (Luke 11:1). An unusual request from Jewish men who had likely prayed since they were in breeches. Or whatever the kids wore back then. But what if their request was about more than how to word a prayer?

 

When parents seek counseling and implore, "Teach us to talk to our children," what's at the heart of their request? Is it merely a question of words? Or is it, more likely, a yearning for greater intimacy of relationship, for greater knowing?

 

"Lord, teach us to pray."

 

 

Then, little more than three years later, on the eve of Jesus's death, the Apostle Phillip made one final, desperate request, "Lord, show us the Father" (John 14:8).

 

Phillip and his companions--like Moses before them--longed, not merely to know God, but to be with God.

 

Phillip's imperative broke Jesus' heart, just hours before a Roman soldier would tear it with his spear. "Phillip," Jesus replied, "Have I been so long with you, and yet you have not come to know Me? He who has seen Me has seen the Father; how can you say:

 

"Lord, show us the Father."

 

 

After three-and-a-half years with Jesus, the apostles had moved from prayer to presence.