When I start reading what St. Paul has to say about the Holy Spirit, I soon get to thinking about pie.
Why’s that, you ask? Because there’s a lot of talk about fruit and filling. (Yeah, no one else laughs at that either…).
St. Paul had a lot to say about the Holy Spirit – the Spirit’s function in the life of the church, the gifts, or charisms, given to us by the Spirit, the way the more charismatic of the charisms should be lived out in worship and community, and the fruit and the filling ("Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit..." Ephesians 5:18). He said he accompanied his proclamation of the Good News of restoration in Christ with signs of the power we're given as heirs of the Gospel. As he wrote to the church in Corinth, “My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power.” (I Corinthians 2:4-5)
It is the Spirit’s power that makes our message and our ministry effective at opening hearts and making peace and calling forth justice. Beyond power in the moment, though, the Spirit also equips us with the gifts and characteristics we need as saints of the Living God. There are personality traits that Paul called “the fruit of the Spirit”: "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control." (Galatians 5:22-23a).
Human beings are capable of such attributes without God, I’m sure – but not often, and rarely in a sustained manner. When we truly allow the Holy Spirit to fill us and transform us, we find ourselves manifesting these fruits in a way that surprises us and the people around us. We can tell the difference between the Holy Spirit and Prozac when someone who's always been downcast becomes a person of joy. Likewise, when someone known for her temper develops forbearance, you know God must be up to something.
What if we were to make a list of these “fruits” Paul names, and add things we feel are missing, like humility. Then we can do an inventory noting the levels of each of these we feel we possess – give it a number or fill in a circle with a rough percentage. Have you experienced more of any of these since you became more conscious about following Christ? Which are the attributes you particularly crave? We could revisit the list periodically, check our "levels."
I believe God desires that each of us experience this fruit. And I don’t think we get the fruit without the filling. And one way we get Spirit-filled, allowing God to sow the seeds of these traits in us, is to intentionally invite the Spirit to take up residence in us. That prayer is as simple as “Come, Holy Spirit!” It is a prayer I utter frequently before and during worship, and at other times when I realize I’m trying to do something on my own, or when my spirits are low. If we could get to the point where that prayer rose up in us all through the day, as well as spending lengthier times of quiet just bathing in the Spirit’s love and peace, I think we’d find ourselves both filled and fruitful.
In my experience, the Spirit is an eager guest, but one who awaits our invitation. She does not insist or break down the door. He doesn’t even knock all that hard, just is happy when we say, “Oh, I forgot you were there. Please come in... Want some pie?”
5-19-15 - Pumped
Theological doctrines relating to the Holy Spirit are called “Pneumatology,” pneuma being the ancient Greek word for breath, spirit, soul. It is also the root of our word “pneumatic,” referring to compressing air to create power. And then, on the other end of the intellectual spectrum, there’s the recurring Saturday Night Live sketch, with the body builders Hanz and Franz and their catch phrase, “Pump you up!," which is recurring in my brain as I write this.
Definitions of pneumatic refer to things being “filled with air,” or “using air pressure to move or work.” We see how inflated tires will help a vehicle move, or steam-fed pistons power machinery. The compressed air moves the pistons, which move other parts (or something...), small things powering the whole. That’s a pretty good image of the church engaged in God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness. What if we were to think of ourselves as vehicles or machines working pneumatically to accomplish far more than we could on our own?
The New Testament has many references to people being “filled with the Spirit.” This is way the Holy Spirit often seems to work in the world – by filling human beings. We even read of Jesus, before certain miracles, that “the Spirit was with him.” When we are filled with the Spirit, we are able to do “immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine,” to use Paul’s phrase. We are able to exercise faith, mobilize others, speak boldly, pray powerfully, organize brilliantly, joyfully aware that God is working with and through us.
What does it feel like to be filled with the Holy Spirit? It can be a gentle experience, waves of comfort or well-being or peace washing over us. It can be feel like an influx of energy, with a physiological effect on our nervous system – increased heartbeat, tingling, trembling, feeling heat in extremities or all over. It can come with an intensity of emotion – joy, hope, faith, love, or give us total clarity about something we’re doing or saying. What does it feel like for you?
I can feel the difference between doing something on my own steam (writing Water Daily, for instance), using natural talents and ideas, and when it feels like the Holy Spirit is filling me, writing through me. Sometimes I don’t feel anything different – I only know by the result that the Spirit added more than I brought. And sometimes I’m in a flow that I know to be Spirit-filled. We might call that pneumatic ministry. I think God desires us to be filled with compressed power that moves us so that the whole enterprise functions at peak effectiveness. God wants our faith tires filled so we can move mountains.
Of course, “pumped” is also slang for “excited,” “psyched up,” anticipating great things. If we truly want the gifts and blessings and ministries that are our inheritance as beloved believers in Christ, we will allow the Holy Spirit to "pump us up," and seek to live “pumped.”
“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”
Definitions of pneumatic refer to things being “filled with air,” or “using air pressure to move or work.” We see how inflated tires will help a vehicle move, or steam-fed pistons power machinery. The compressed air moves the pistons, which move other parts (or something...), small things powering the whole. That’s a pretty good image of the church engaged in God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness. What if we were to think of ourselves as vehicles or machines working pneumatically to accomplish far more than we could on our own?
The New Testament has many references to people being “filled with the Spirit.” This is way the Holy Spirit often seems to work in the world – by filling human beings. We even read of Jesus, before certain miracles, that “the Spirit was with him.” When we are filled with the Spirit, we are able to do “immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine,” to use Paul’s phrase. We are able to exercise faith, mobilize others, speak boldly, pray powerfully, organize brilliantly, joyfully aware that God is working with and through us.
What does it feel like to be filled with the Holy Spirit? It can be a gentle experience, waves of comfort or well-being or peace washing over us. It can be feel like an influx of energy, with a physiological effect on our nervous system – increased heartbeat, tingling, trembling, feeling heat in extremities or all over. It can come with an intensity of emotion – joy, hope, faith, love, or give us total clarity about something we’re doing or saying. What does it feel like for you?
I can feel the difference between doing something on my own steam (writing Water Daily, for instance), using natural talents and ideas, and when it feels like the Holy Spirit is filling me, writing through me. Sometimes I don’t feel anything different – I only know by the result that the Spirit added more than I brought. And sometimes I’m in a flow that I know to be Spirit-filled. We might call that pneumatic ministry. I think God desires us to be filled with compressed power that moves us so that the whole enterprise functions at peak effectiveness. God wants our faith tires filled so we can move mountains.
Of course, “pumped” is also slang for “excited,” “psyched up,” anticipating great things. If we truly want the gifts and blessings and ministries that are our inheritance as beloved believers in Christ, we will allow the Holy Spirit to "pump us up," and seek to live “pumped.”
“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”
5-18-15 - Inspired
Next Sunday we celebrate the Feast of Pentecost. This week I will reflect on the Holy Spirit generally, rather than looking at specific biblical texts. (If you want to explore the Acts 2 reading, see last year’s Water Daily, June 2-6, 2014) After all, the Holy Spirit is the God-Person who makes possible everything we experience as Christians, our faith, our praises, our prayers, our ministries. I would go so far as to say there can be no Church without the Holy Spirit.
In fact, I once wrote a sermon drama one called “It’s a Wonderful Trinity," the ridiculous premise of which was borrowed from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” The Holy Spirit is feeling depressed about his usefulness, since the Father and the Son seem to get a lot more attention. (Theologians would call this a very weak Pneumatology, or Doctrine of the Holy Spirit!) An angel – did I name him Clarence? – has to show him what the world and the church might be like if there were no Holy Spirit. We see a really dull sermon, a choir singing listlessly and out of tune, people unable to carry out ministries with any effectiveness, and the like. It was very silly - and I hope it got people thinking about how the Spirit affects our lives as carriers of the Gospel.
It is easy to overlook the operation of the Holy Spirit, because the Spirit focuses our attention on Jesus. Jesus likened the Spirit to the wind, which we know by its effects on other things and only “see” as it carries matter through the air. So it is with the Holy Spirit – we know her presence by the fruit our ministries bear, or by our experience of the presence of God in prayer or worship, or by what we see in other people, or others see and hear in us.
The Holy Spirit enables us to pray and praise, to experience peace, to wield spiritual power, to bear the fruit of love and healing in our lives. In the Bible, the Holy Spirit is seen as the source of power, wisdom, creativity, comfort, prophecy, gifts for ministry, and virtues like joy and patience. The Spirit, who is the spirit of the Father and the Son, is the way we experience God.
When and where do you most often experience or discern the movement of the Spirit? Can you tell the difference when you're praying or acting on your own steam or in the Spirit?
When and where are you conscious of seeing the movement of the Spirit in people or situations?
The word "spirit" is related to our words for inspiration and for respiration, or breathing. I pray that, as we focus this week of the various ways the Holy Spirit works in our lives as Christians, we will increase our lung capacity, as it were, making more space within for God's loving presence, God's transforming power. Be inspired; breathe God in!
In fact, I once wrote a sermon drama one called “It’s a Wonderful Trinity," the ridiculous premise of which was borrowed from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” The Holy Spirit is feeling depressed about his usefulness, since the Father and the Son seem to get a lot more attention. (Theologians would call this a very weak Pneumatology, or Doctrine of the Holy Spirit!) An angel – did I name him Clarence? – has to show him what the world and the church might be like if there were no Holy Spirit. We see a really dull sermon, a choir singing listlessly and out of tune, people unable to carry out ministries with any effectiveness, and the like. It was very silly - and I hope it got people thinking about how the Spirit affects our lives as carriers of the Gospel.
It is easy to overlook the operation of the Holy Spirit, because the Spirit focuses our attention on Jesus. Jesus likened the Spirit to the wind, which we know by its effects on other things and only “see” as it carries matter through the air. So it is with the Holy Spirit – we know her presence by the fruit our ministries bear, or by our experience of the presence of God in prayer or worship, or by what we see in other people, or others see and hear in us.
The Holy Spirit enables us to pray and praise, to experience peace, to wield spiritual power, to bear the fruit of love and healing in our lives. In the Bible, the Holy Spirit is seen as the source of power, wisdom, creativity, comfort, prophecy, gifts for ministry, and virtues like joy and patience. The Spirit, who is the spirit of the Father and the Son, is the way we experience God.
When and where do you most often experience or discern the movement of the Spirit? Can you tell the difference when you're praying or acting on your own steam or in the Spirit?
When and where are you conscious of seeing the movement of the Spirit in people or situations?
The word "spirit" is related to our words for inspiration and for respiration, or breathing. I pray that, as we focus this week of the various ways the Holy Spirit works in our lives as Christians, we will increase our lung capacity, as it were, making more space within for God's loving presence, God's transforming power. Be inspired; breathe God in!
5-15-15 - Sent and Sanctified
Yesterday was Ascension Day, when the church marks Jesus’ final bodily exit from this world. From this time on he would be present with his followers, as he promised, but in spirit, not flesh. He told them he was going to the Father, and early on the church developed a image of him as “seated on the right hand of the Father.”
After the activity and stress of his incarnate life, a little sitting down might have sounded good to the Son, but to spend eternity seated, even at the right hand of the Father? That’s a lot of sitting. Of course, he did have a job to do: he had promised to intercede for these followers he was launching into the world he was just leaving.
This prayer we’ve been studying this week articulates in human language Jesus’ eternal work. It is a prayer for protection, a prayer of sending, and a prayer for holiness: “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.”
That same world he told his disciples not to become too attached to, is where he sent them. Lest they wonder why, Jesus reminds them it is to continue his mission – “As the Father sent me, so I send you…” Lest they wonder what their work was to be, it was to do anything they had seen Jesus doing: proclaiming, teaching, healing, restoring, renewing. Their passion and energy was to be spent loving the people they would encounter in the world as they had been loved: “I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one.”
Lest we wonder what our apostolic mission is, there’s our answer – the same as those original apostles. We too are sent into the world to love in Jesus' name. We can be sure that his aims and desires have not changed – he still wants people to believe in him, to be united as one. And we can be sure that Jesus is interceding for us as we go about his mission.
It is both daunting and comforting to know that Jesus is praying for those who will believe in him through our word. It is daunting, because it puts the pressure on us to be sharing his word; otherwise, how will any believe? And it is comforting because it reminds us that Jesus does not send us out without equipping us for the transforming work he is doing through us.
To be sanctified is to be made holy, saint-like. Sanctification is an already/not yet proposition – we are already made holy by Jesus’ action, and we experience it gradually, as we allow the Spirit to take root in us, to transform us from the inside. As we engage in ministries of transformation for others, we are simultaneously being transformed, ever more into the likeness and stature of Christ. To borrow an expression, the plane is indeed being built as it flies.
The mantle of those apostles has passed to us. And Christ’s intercession for us continues too – maybe not in these words set down in John’s gospel, but in words that articulate the dream of God better ever imagine, with the power that answers the prayer before the words have been uttered. The power and love flow from the heavenly places to us and through us – and ultimately, will welcome us home, sanctified wholly.
After the activity and stress of his incarnate life, a little sitting down might have sounded good to the Son, but to spend eternity seated, even at the right hand of the Father? That’s a lot of sitting. Of course, he did have a job to do: he had promised to intercede for these followers he was launching into the world he was just leaving.
This prayer we’ve been studying this week articulates in human language Jesus’ eternal work. It is a prayer for protection, a prayer of sending, and a prayer for holiness: “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.”
That same world he told his disciples not to become too attached to, is where he sent them. Lest they wonder why, Jesus reminds them it is to continue his mission – “As the Father sent me, so I send you…” Lest they wonder what their work was to be, it was to do anything they had seen Jesus doing: proclaiming, teaching, healing, restoring, renewing. Their passion and energy was to be spent loving the people they would encounter in the world as they had been loved: “I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one.”
Lest we wonder what our apostolic mission is, there’s our answer – the same as those original apostles. We too are sent into the world to love in Jesus' name. We can be sure that his aims and desires have not changed – he still wants people to believe in him, to be united as one. And we can be sure that Jesus is interceding for us as we go about his mission.
It is both daunting and comforting to know that Jesus is praying for those who will believe in him through our word. It is daunting, because it puts the pressure on us to be sharing his word; otherwise, how will any believe? And it is comforting because it reminds us that Jesus does not send us out without equipping us for the transforming work he is doing through us.
To be sanctified is to be made holy, saint-like. Sanctification is an already/not yet proposition – we are already made holy by Jesus’ action, and we experience it gradually, as we allow the Spirit to take root in us, to transform us from the inside. As we engage in ministries of transformation for others, we are simultaneously being transformed, ever more into the likeness and stature of Christ. To borrow an expression, the plane is indeed being built as it flies.
The mantle of those apostles has passed to us. And Christ’s intercession for us continues too – maybe not in these words set down in John’s gospel, but in words that articulate the dream of God better ever imagine, with the power that answers the prayer before the words have been uttered. The power and love flow from the heavenly places to us and through us – and ultimately, will welcome us home, sanctified wholly.
5-14-15 - Dual Citizens
I lived in New York City for a long time before coming to Connecticut. The rhythms and pulse of the city were my way of life – I could navigate the streets and subways, theatres and restaurants, even drive like a maniac on the rare occasions I was behind a wheel. Like most New Yorkers, I felt it was where I belonged and thrived, the environment best suited to my energy. I didn’t think I would ever leave.
Until I did, to go to Yale Divinity School. I had an easy transition, going back and forth on weekends for a few months, until gradually I went less often, and built up friendships and activities in New Haven. Now, I regret to say, I almost never go in, though there are friends to see and such a wealth of culture to enjoy. When I do find myself in “the city,” though, I easily drop back into its pace and flow. I can get around like a New Yorker, but I no longer am one. It’s like a language I can still speak, but rarely use.
Maybe that’s a bit what Jesus meant when he talked about his followers not “belonging to this world.” This world is clearly not a place to rest for citizens of God's realm:
“… I speak these things in the world so that they may have my joy made complete in themselves. I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world.”
Why such suspicion of “the world?” By the time these words were set down, the early church was into its fourth or fifth, maybe sixth decade. It had grown and spread and developed structures. And it had become familiar with controversy, resistance and fierce persecution, not only from the occupying Romans, but from the Jewish establishment which saw this reform movement as a blasphemous threat. It's easy to read back into these words the opposition the early Christians who wrote them were facing. Even apart from that history, though, there is a clear distinction expressed here, between the world and the Christian community.
In and of itself, there is nothing wrong with “the world," right? After all, God created it. But Jesus, and Paul and other leaders after him, used "the world" to mean human-centered society – materialistic, corrupt, full of oppression and inequity. It is the realm which is passing away, of which the saints of God, committed to reflecting the holiness of God’s realm, are called be wary. Paul writes to the church in Rome, “Do not be conformed to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” (Romans 12:2) The pattern we are to conform to is the one Christ laid down for us, and in which the Spirit leads us.
Are we "of the world?" Or "In the world but not of the world?" I tell the newly baptized that they now have dual citizenship – they are still very much a part of this world, and now simultaneously citizens of the kingdom of God, that supra-national realm of supernatural power and peace. That realm is where we will spend eternity; this realm is where we live now, preparing for that other world, and participating in Christ’s redeeming, transforming work here.
I believe our spiritual work is to love this world as Christ does, because it is filled with creatures and people God loves. And we are to live ready to leave it when we’re called to New Heaven (the original name for New Haven…)
See? We all leave the city and go to divinity school someday.
Until I did, to go to Yale Divinity School. I had an easy transition, going back and forth on weekends for a few months, until gradually I went less often, and built up friendships and activities in New Haven. Now, I regret to say, I almost never go in, though there are friends to see and such a wealth of culture to enjoy. When I do find myself in “the city,” though, I easily drop back into its pace and flow. I can get around like a New Yorker, but I no longer am one. It’s like a language I can still speak, but rarely use.
Maybe that’s a bit what Jesus meant when he talked about his followers not “belonging to this world.” This world is clearly not a place to rest for citizens of God's realm:
“… I speak these things in the world so that they may have my joy made complete in themselves. I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world.”
Why such suspicion of “the world?” By the time these words were set down, the early church was into its fourth or fifth, maybe sixth decade. It had grown and spread and developed structures. And it had become familiar with controversy, resistance and fierce persecution, not only from the occupying Romans, but from the Jewish establishment which saw this reform movement as a blasphemous threat. It's easy to read back into these words the opposition the early Christians who wrote them were facing. Even apart from that history, though, there is a clear distinction expressed here, between the world and the Christian community.
In and of itself, there is nothing wrong with “the world," right? After all, God created it. But Jesus, and Paul and other leaders after him, used "the world" to mean human-centered society – materialistic, corrupt, full of oppression and inequity. It is the realm which is passing away, of which the saints of God, committed to reflecting the holiness of God’s realm, are called be wary. Paul writes to the church in Rome, “Do not be conformed to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” (Romans 12:2) The pattern we are to conform to is the one Christ laid down for us, and in which the Spirit leads us.
Are we "of the world?" Or "In the world but not of the world?" I tell the newly baptized that they now have dual citizenship – they are still very much a part of this world, and now simultaneously citizens of the kingdom of God, that supra-national realm of supernatural power and peace. That realm is where we will spend eternity; this realm is where we live now, preparing for that other world, and participating in Christ’s redeeming, transforming work here.
I believe our spiritual work is to love this world as Christ does, because it is filled with creatures and people God loves. And we are to live ready to leave it when we’re called to New Heaven (the original name for New Haven…)
See? We all leave the city and go to divinity school someday.
5-13-15 - One
One day I was reading Amos, a prophet to whom God gave symbolic visions. So I said to God, “If I were a prophet, what would you show me?” Right away a picture formed in my mind. To my left, I saw a crowd of people frantic, their faces turned toward the sky, their mouths open like baby birds waiting for food. I understood they were ravenous. Then my attention was drawn to another crowd nearby, angry, shouting at each other. I realized these were bakers, arguing about who had the best bread recipe. The interpretation came into my mind almost as quickly as the images: the bakers were the churches, squabbling over their differences, while people hungered for the Bread of Life.
If we were to draw out one strand of the many in Jesus’ farewell discourses, a prominent one is unity among Christ-followers. In his prayer for his disciples on his last night among them, Jesus expresses a deep concern for them. He prays that they be protected from the world, and from the evil one. And it seems that what he most wants to see them protected from is disunity.
“Love one another as I have loved you,” he tells them. And as he prays for them, he says, “Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.”
It’s as though the worst thing that could happen to them is not bodily harm or failure, but breaking faith with one another. When we look at how fractured the church of Jesus Christ is and has been, we can understand his concern. The power of God is unlimited except when it comes to the human heart. God still gives us choice, but we can hear the longing in Jesus that we exercise our power to choose to come together, not stand divided.
I don’t see in this passage an indictment of denominations and different expressions of Christianity – that’s just the way human nature and human institutions work. Jesus doesn’t need us all worshiping the same way or even emphasizing the same points of doctrine. What Jesus does plead is that we love one another and that the world see his church as united in love for him and for God’s children.
So much divides us – history, theology, interpretation of scripture, divergent views on justice and holiness. Much of this is real and important. Is it possible for us to set aside those things that divide and focus on the One True thing – or, more biblically, the True One, our Lord Jesus, Son of God, risen savior of the world?
Or is it the worst sort of denial to say, “Oh, let’s just get together and love Jesus, and I'll overlook your homophobia/racism/defense of privilege/disregard for the sanctity of life/cherry-picking Scripture/[fill in your own rant here]?” Where do the claims for Christian unity crash against the call for justice? That’s a huge question. I can’t answer it. I only know this polarization, even for justice, is not godly.
Jesus prayed, “While I was with them, I protected them in your name that you have given me.” He promises he is still praying for his apostles, those called to reveal the Good News of restoration in Christ. I don’t know how to lay aside my outrage at some of the things my fellow Christians say or do, any more than some of them might know what to do with my “God-less liberalism.”
But we all know how to pray to the One we call Lord, whose power to heal and transform can work even on our stubborn hearts if we’re willing to invite him in. Enough prayer and enough humility, enough allowing the Holy Spirit to work in us, one day we might realize Jesus' prayer that we be one.
If we were to draw out one strand of the many in Jesus’ farewell discourses, a prominent one is unity among Christ-followers. In his prayer for his disciples on his last night among them, Jesus expresses a deep concern for them. He prays that they be protected from the world, and from the evil one. And it seems that what he most wants to see them protected from is disunity.
“Love one another as I have loved you,” he tells them. And as he prays for them, he says, “Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.”
It’s as though the worst thing that could happen to them is not bodily harm or failure, but breaking faith with one another. When we look at how fractured the church of Jesus Christ is and has been, we can understand his concern. The power of God is unlimited except when it comes to the human heart. God still gives us choice, but we can hear the longing in Jesus that we exercise our power to choose to come together, not stand divided.
I don’t see in this passage an indictment of denominations and different expressions of Christianity – that’s just the way human nature and human institutions work. Jesus doesn’t need us all worshiping the same way or even emphasizing the same points of doctrine. What Jesus does plead is that we love one another and that the world see his church as united in love for him and for God’s children.
So much divides us – history, theology, interpretation of scripture, divergent views on justice and holiness. Much of this is real and important. Is it possible for us to set aside those things that divide and focus on the One True thing – or, more biblically, the True One, our Lord Jesus, Son of God, risen savior of the world?
Or is it the worst sort of denial to say, “Oh, let’s just get together and love Jesus, and I'll overlook your homophobia/racism/defense of privilege/disregard for the sanctity of life/cherry-picking Scripture/[fill in your own rant here]?” Where do the claims for Christian unity crash against the call for justice? That’s a huge question. I can’t answer it. I only know this polarization, even for justice, is not godly.
Jesus prayed, “While I was with them, I protected them in your name that you have given me.” He promises he is still praying for his apostles, those called to reveal the Good News of restoration in Christ. I don’t know how to lay aside my outrage at some of the things my fellow Christians say or do, any more than some of them might know what to do with my “God-less liberalism.”
But we all know how to pray to the One we call Lord, whose power to heal and transform can work even on our stubborn hearts if we’re willing to invite him in. Enough prayer and enough humility, enough allowing the Holy Spirit to work in us, one day we might realize Jesus' prayer that we be one.
5-12-15 - Yours, Mine and Ours
When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was Yours, Mine and Ours, the true story of a blended family (a widower with 10 children married a widow with 8, and they had 2 more…). I got the biggest kick out of the shenanigans in that household. (The book was made into a film with Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball in 1968, and then a more forgettable remake in 2005.)
None of which has absolutely anything to do with this week’s gospel, except that the way Jesus talks to his heavenly Father about his disciples always reminds me of the title:
“I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything you have given me is from you; for the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me. I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world, but on behalf of those whom you gave me, because they are yours."
This prayer for Jesus’ disciples, like his instructions to them which we explored the past two weeks, is elliptical, moving forward like a tide in overlapping waves. In this first part, it’s hard to track who belongs to whom. Jesus refers to his disciples as “those you gave me,” those entrusted to him by the Father. “They were yours, and you gave them to me…”
What if clergy more often thought of their congregants in this way – as those who belong to God, entrusted into their care for a time? And the same for the way a congregation might view its pastor. And a wife, her husband; and parents their children; and teachers their students, doctors their patients, stockbrokers their clients. How different the web of human relationships would be if we all viewed the people in our lives as belonging to God first and foremost, and only secondarily and in a very limited way, to us. How much heartache might be avoided.
Regarding other people as belonging to God, we might treat them with more reverence and care. Maybe this is why Jesus was so easy sitting with lepers and outcasts, the greedy and the deranged – because he knew they were God’s precious creatures and therefore worthy of honor. He healed not to make them more acceptable; he healed because wholeness more perfectly reflected their status as God’s beloved.
Periodically I encounter the advice to “Remember you are a child of God” or words to that effect. That is an valuable spiritual practice; most of us would be kinder to ourselves if we lived it. Today, though, I invite us to turn it around. Think of a person or group or type of person that you find it hard to even see anything good in; to respect, let alone love. Call that person to mind. And then overlay this message over that picture, like one of those Facebook memes: “Belongs to God.” How does that change the way you regard that person? Try it every day this week. Note what feelings come up, and pray through them.
Jesus ended with a statement of mutual possessing: “All mine are yours, and yours are mine; and I have been glorified in them.” We are invited into that mutual belonging, in this gigantic blended family we call the human race, beloved beyond measure by the God who created, redeemed and sustains us. We continue to bring Jesus glory as we treat everyone around us as both ours and God’s.
None of which has absolutely anything to do with this week’s gospel, except that the way Jesus talks to his heavenly Father about his disciples always reminds me of the title:
“I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything you have given me is from you; for the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me. I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world, but on behalf of those whom you gave me, because they are yours."
This prayer for Jesus’ disciples, like his instructions to them which we explored the past two weeks, is elliptical, moving forward like a tide in overlapping waves. In this first part, it’s hard to track who belongs to whom. Jesus refers to his disciples as “those you gave me,” those entrusted to him by the Father. “They were yours, and you gave them to me…”
What if clergy more often thought of their congregants in this way – as those who belong to God, entrusted into their care for a time? And the same for the way a congregation might view its pastor. And a wife, her husband; and parents their children; and teachers their students, doctors their patients, stockbrokers their clients. How different the web of human relationships would be if we all viewed the people in our lives as belonging to God first and foremost, and only secondarily and in a very limited way, to us. How much heartache might be avoided.
Regarding other people as belonging to God, we might treat them with more reverence and care. Maybe this is why Jesus was so easy sitting with lepers and outcasts, the greedy and the deranged – because he knew they were God’s precious creatures and therefore worthy of honor. He healed not to make them more acceptable; he healed because wholeness more perfectly reflected their status as God’s beloved.
Periodically I encounter the advice to “Remember you are a child of God” or words to that effect. That is an valuable spiritual practice; most of us would be kinder to ourselves if we lived it. Today, though, I invite us to turn it around. Think of a person or group or type of person that you find it hard to even see anything good in; to respect, let alone love. Call that person to mind. And then overlay this message over that picture, like one of those Facebook memes: “Belongs to God.” How does that change the way you regard that person? Try it every day this week. Note what feelings come up, and pray through them.
Jesus ended with a statement of mutual possessing: “All mine are yours, and yours are mine; and I have been glorified in them.” We are invited into that mutual belonging, in this gigantic blended family we call the human race, beloved beyond measure by the God who created, redeemed and sustains us. We continue to bring Jesus glory as we treat everyone around us as both ours and God’s.
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