Congratulations – you have made it through the seasons and festivals and holidays that span Christmas through Easter to Pentecost, and have arrived safely at that long stretch we call “Ordinary Time.” From now until Advent, minus a few feast days, we will hear stories from Jesus’ ministry and teaching. We have an opportunity to get to know him better, and to explore our own callings within his ongoing mission.
For that, we come in at a good spot – next Sunday’s Gospel reading drops us at the start of Jesus’ travels, with his instructions to his disciples before their first foray out. Let’s listen as though we were one of them, for, indeed, we are, and the mission field Jesus described then, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few,” is as apt today.
The mood of the people Jesus encountered is also the same as what we see today:
Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and curing every disease and every sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.
Jesus set out to proclaim the Good News of God’s mission to restore and renew all of creation to wholeness, and to demonstrate that mission by healing every ill person he encountered. As he went, he also responded with compassion to what he saw – people who were harassed and helpless, rudderless, leader-less.
The ones he encountered lived in poverty and fear, under the thumb of the Roman occupiers and further oppressed by their own religious leaders. People we encounter in our lives may more often be harassed by the demands of wealth than poverty, but many are also seeking direction, to be led to safety and green pastures and still waters. They are hungry for meaning, thirsty for purpose and the kind of love only God can give. We have access to these gifts – will we share?
Who do you know who is harassed or helpless, or both? Who is awakening your compassion? How might God be sending you to that person with a message of promise and life?
Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”
Are you ready to be sent? Ask God in prayer to show you where and when and how and to whom. Just say the word – God will send you into the harvest.
6-9-17 - St. Columba
Today is the Feast Day of St. Columba, whom we will celebrate at his namesake church this coming Sunday. Columba was a 6th century Irish prince who entered religious life, got into various scrapes and battles, and ended up leaving his beloved Ireland to evangelize what is now Scotland (a task which, according to one of many legends, included subduing the Loch Ness monster…) He died on the isle of Iona in 597 CE, a missionary who lived out Jesus’ commission to “go and make disciples.”
By historical account, Columba struggled much with pride and anger and his own exceptional talents. He learned the hard way, as do most of us, to rely on God’s power and love. And he learned that Jesus does not send us off alone with the charge to spread the Good News – he comes with us. Jesus’ last words on that mountain were, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” But sometimes it can be hard to feel his presence. Here are a few ways I know of to draw on that promise:
Prayer – when we allow our minds to quiet and invite the Spirit to fill us, it is the Spirit of Christ who comes to us. The visually inclined can ask Jesus to show up in the imagination in some place and form that resonates for us, where we can talk and listen to him - and just hang out.
Praise – when we release our spirits in praise, as we sing or admire beauty or enjoy an intimate meal, we feel a presence in us and around us. That is Christ, joining our praises.
Eucharist – We offer these words and actions to remember Him, because he said to… and remember means more than "recall." It also means to reconstitute the members of a body. We receive the life of Christ in those signs of his body and blood – and He has promised to be there with us.
In the Hungry and Forgotten – Jesus said when we feed and clothe and visit and tend to those in need, we do it for him. Doing ministry among people with obvious needs – and many assets, don’t forget – is a wonderful way to be with Jesus. Ask him in advance to show himself to you.
Ministries of Power – Jesus told his followers that when the Spirit came, they would do even greater works than they’d seen in him. When we pray for healing or reconciliation or exercise spiritual power in Jesus’ name, we are invoking his presence with us.
What are the ways you sense the presence of Jesus? Are there times you feel abandoned anyway? Those are normal, especially when a lot of things are going wrong. God invites us to pray through them and pipe up and say, “What happened to, ‘I will be with you always?’ Not feeling it…”
Always is a long time. We can experience Christ with us moment by moment, and expand our capacity. I’ll close with lyrics from a song I wrote a few years ago for Eastertide, called “Was That You?” It explores the garden and Emmaus and the fish. The last verse brings the question to us:
So where did you last see him, where he wasn’t supposed to be?
He told us he’d be with the poor, the lost, the last, the least …
He said that we would know him in Word and bread and wine;
He promised to be with us, now – and to the end of time.
Is that you breathing peace to me when it's storming in my head?
Is that you releasing power in me, the power that raised the dead?
Is that you, loving me more than I could ever understand?
Don’t know why it always takes a while for me to open up my eyes and see:
That it’s you, always next to me, Jesus, you, right here, next to me.
By historical account, Columba struggled much with pride and anger and his own exceptional talents. He learned the hard way, as do most of us, to rely on God’s power and love. And he learned that Jesus does not send us off alone with the charge to spread the Good News – he comes with us. Jesus’ last words on that mountain were, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” But sometimes it can be hard to feel his presence. Here are a few ways I know of to draw on that promise:
Prayer – when we allow our minds to quiet and invite the Spirit to fill us, it is the Spirit of Christ who comes to us. The visually inclined can ask Jesus to show up in the imagination in some place and form that resonates for us, where we can talk and listen to him - and just hang out.
Praise – when we release our spirits in praise, as we sing or admire beauty or enjoy an intimate meal, we feel a presence in us and around us. That is Christ, joining our praises.
Eucharist – We offer these words and actions to remember Him, because he said to… and remember means more than "recall." It also means to reconstitute the members of a body. We receive the life of Christ in those signs of his body and blood – and He has promised to be there with us.
In the Hungry and Forgotten – Jesus said when we feed and clothe and visit and tend to those in need, we do it for him. Doing ministry among people with obvious needs – and many assets, don’t forget – is a wonderful way to be with Jesus. Ask him in advance to show himself to you.
Ministries of Power – Jesus told his followers that when the Spirit came, they would do even greater works than they’d seen in him. When we pray for healing or reconciliation or exercise spiritual power in Jesus’ name, we are invoking his presence with us.
What are the ways you sense the presence of Jesus? Are there times you feel abandoned anyway? Those are normal, especially when a lot of things are going wrong. God invites us to pray through them and pipe up and say, “What happened to, ‘I will be with you always?’ Not feeling it…”
Always is a long time. We can experience Christ with us moment by moment, and expand our capacity. I’ll close with lyrics from a song I wrote a few years ago for Eastertide, called “Was That You?” It explores the garden and Emmaus and the fish. The last verse brings the question to us:
So where did you last see him, where he wasn’t supposed to be?
He told us he’d be with the poor, the lost, the last, the least …
He said that we would know him in Word and bread and wine;
He promised to be with us, now – and to the end of time.
Is that you breathing peace to me when it's storming in my head?
Is that you releasing power in me, the power that raised the dead?
Is that you, loving me more than I could ever understand?
Don’t know why it always takes a while for me to open up my eyes and see:
That it’s you, always next to me, Jesus, you, right here, next to me.
6-8-17 - The Great Co-Mission
Jesus said, “Go and make disciples of all nations.” Christians reply, “Okay, We have our orders - here we go to save some souls!” And here the church has gone, for over 2,000 years, carrying the Good News to the ends of the earth. At Grace Church in the late 1970s we held a multi-day preaching revival mission keynoted by a Ugandan bishop, Festo Kavingere, come to save the souls of secular New Yorkers. The ends of the earth (from our Western perspective, anyway…) had come to us. The Great Commission is our job.
Yet when we understand God’s mission as a job, an order to follow, we lose sight of perhaps the most important word: “Co.” Co-mission means mission with. Jesus never intended his followers to take the hand-off from him and run with the ball on our own. He promised His Spirit would be in us, confirming the power of our words in signs and wonders. Perhaps, when the Great Commission has run off the rails, it’s been when the “co” got dropped and it became just mission. Our mission. My mission.
Co-mission means we are always partners in God’s mission, rather than us recruiting God as a silent partner to bless our missions. When we are partners in God’s mission, we can be sure that we’re in God’s will and that good fruit is promised. God is always creating new life, restoring wholeness – so we can be sure God always has a mission for us to join into. God seems, in fact, to rely on our joining in, or that thing doesn’t get accomplished. It’s like an electrical current needing a conductor to carry it – we’re the wire, folks, literally wired in to what God has already purposed.
How do we know when it’s God’s mission? It will resemble Christ’s missions. Look around you: Where do you see energy and passion that result in people being blessed, healed, fed, reconciled? There’s God’s mission. Where do you see hunger, fear, injustice or oppression? God may be inviting you to join God there.
Where do you see needs, frustration, wheels spinning? Maybe that’s a place where mission is being undertaken without God, like a wire disconnected from the current. Sometimes much of what I spend my time and energy on does not feel like God’s mission at all, but rather my attempt to help prop up old conveyor belts for human mission initiatives, my own included.
God’s mission is not about meeting needs, though needs are often met as we go about God’s mission. God’s mission is about bringing life to things that are dead or on their way there. God’s mission is about freedom and peace. We’re about God’s mission when we feel our sails full of Holy Spirit wind; when we don’t know the route but know we’re going somewhere blessed.
When do you feel you are “co-missioning” with God rather than “missioning” on your own?
When do you feel your passion and energy rising in ministry? Start noticing what gets your attention, and when in conversation you become more focused and enthusiastic.
You might ask God to wire you in to a mission, large or small – and to give you a clue that’s what’s happening by letting you see some fruit.
If God is always on the move, and if God needs us to carry the current of what God wants to accomplish… think how often God may want us just to show up and say, “Here I am. Use me.” That’s the Greatest Co-mission of all.
Yet when we understand God’s mission as a job, an order to follow, we lose sight of perhaps the most important word: “Co.” Co-mission means mission with. Jesus never intended his followers to take the hand-off from him and run with the ball on our own. He promised His Spirit would be in us, confirming the power of our words in signs and wonders. Perhaps, when the Great Commission has run off the rails, it’s been when the “co” got dropped and it became just mission. Our mission. My mission.
Co-mission means we are always partners in God’s mission, rather than us recruiting God as a silent partner to bless our missions. When we are partners in God’s mission, we can be sure that we’re in God’s will and that good fruit is promised. God is always creating new life, restoring wholeness – so we can be sure God always has a mission for us to join into. God seems, in fact, to rely on our joining in, or that thing doesn’t get accomplished. It’s like an electrical current needing a conductor to carry it – we’re the wire, folks, literally wired in to what God has already purposed.
How do we know when it’s God’s mission? It will resemble Christ’s missions. Look around you: Where do you see energy and passion that result in people being blessed, healed, fed, reconciled? There’s God’s mission. Where do you see hunger, fear, injustice or oppression? God may be inviting you to join God there.
Where do you see needs, frustration, wheels spinning? Maybe that’s a place where mission is being undertaken without God, like a wire disconnected from the current. Sometimes much of what I spend my time and energy on does not feel like God’s mission at all, but rather my attempt to help prop up old conveyor belts for human mission initiatives, my own included.
God’s mission is not about meeting needs, though needs are often met as we go about God’s mission. God’s mission is about bringing life to things that are dead or on their way there. God’s mission is about freedom and peace. We’re about God’s mission when we feel our sails full of Holy Spirit wind; when we don’t know the route but know we’re going somewhere blessed.
When do you feel you are “co-missioning” with God rather than “missioning” on your own?
When do you feel your passion and energy rising in ministry? Start noticing what gets your attention, and when in conversation you become more focused and enthusiastic.
You might ask God to wire you in to a mission, large or small – and to give you a clue that’s what’s happening by letting you see some fruit.
If God is always on the move, and if God needs us to carry the current of what God wants to accomplish… think how often God may want us just to show up and say, “Here I am. Use me.” That’s the Greatest Co-mission of all.
6-7-17 - Making Disciples
It’s a muscular charge, the way Matthew renders Jesus’ last earthly instruction to his followers:
And Jesus came and said to them, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.”
Authority…. Go and make… Obey… Commanded…. This is not language of invitation and inspiration – or love. And it has fostered some atrocious Christian behavior in world history. It’s not so hard to justify crusades and conquistadors when you take your marching orders from this verse – and this verse has had more influence than many in the bible. We even call it The Great Commission.
We can chalk some of this up to Matthew’s style – his version of stories and sayings often sound more legalistic than in other Gospels. Writing forty or so years after the events he records, in the face of persecution and unrest and competing factions in the Christian movement, he may have felt it important to stress Jesus’ authority and command. To those who wanted to reserve Jesus’ blessing to Jewish believers, he may have wanted to remind them that these gifts were for all nations, that spreading the Good News is part of the church’s DNA. In a time when alternate readings of Christian revelation were already sprouting, he called people back to the teachings and commandments of Christ.
How do we take these words and live into them, aware of the harm and the good they’ve often caused? How might we rediscover the joy of sharing Good News in Jesus’ name, not holding back the blessing we have received?
Let’s ponder what it means to “make disciples.” It does not mean force a discipline on another, or manipulate allegiance. A disciple, one who takes on the discipline of a teacher, needs to do so by choice, or he will lack the motivation to follow through. Those who chose to follow Jesus in his earthly ministry caught his passion and wanted to be a part of what he was doing. That’s how people still become his disciples. If we want to share in this mission of God, we will rediscover and share our own passion for the love of God and the Way of Jesus. Otherwise, we’re just going to church.
When someone has caught the passion for loving God, we invite her to be baptized (note the passive verb form... baptism is something we receive more than "do"), to mark this new commitment. We invoke the Holy Spirit to fill and equip her. And yes, we teach her all that Jesus has commanded, in all its counter-intuitive glory – to love enemies, value the poor more than our own, seek peace over being right, to name a few. And we train her to walk in the Spirit, so that choosing to obey Jesus’ commands gradually becomes a desire, not just a duty.
Making disciples starts with us. Do you consider yourself a disciple of Jesus Christ, the Risen Lord? Why or why not? If you’re not, and you want to be, you can pray, “Okay, Jesus, I want to follow you… show me how.” And ask someone you consider to be a disciple already to walk alongside you.
Is there someone you know whom you might mentor in the faith, helping them discover discipleship? You can start by praying for God to bless that desire and give you openings.
Making disciples is a little more complex than “just add water” – but it’s God’s work. We just get to help.
And Jesus came and said to them, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.”
Authority…. Go and make… Obey… Commanded…. This is not language of invitation and inspiration – or love. And it has fostered some atrocious Christian behavior in world history. It’s not so hard to justify crusades and conquistadors when you take your marching orders from this verse – and this verse has had more influence than many in the bible. We even call it The Great Commission.
We can chalk some of this up to Matthew’s style – his version of stories and sayings often sound more legalistic than in other Gospels. Writing forty or so years after the events he records, in the face of persecution and unrest and competing factions in the Christian movement, he may have felt it important to stress Jesus’ authority and command. To those who wanted to reserve Jesus’ blessing to Jewish believers, he may have wanted to remind them that these gifts were for all nations, that spreading the Good News is part of the church’s DNA. In a time when alternate readings of Christian revelation were already sprouting, he called people back to the teachings and commandments of Christ.
How do we take these words and live into them, aware of the harm and the good they’ve often caused? How might we rediscover the joy of sharing Good News in Jesus’ name, not holding back the blessing we have received?
Let’s ponder what it means to “make disciples.” It does not mean force a discipline on another, or manipulate allegiance. A disciple, one who takes on the discipline of a teacher, needs to do so by choice, or he will lack the motivation to follow through. Those who chose to follow Jesus in his earthly ministry caught his passion and wanted to be a part of what he was doing. That’s how people still become his disciples. If we want to share in this mission of God, we will rediscover and share our own passion for the love of God and the Way of Jesus. Otherwise, we’re just going to church.
When someone has caught the passion for loving God, we invite her to be baptized (note the passive verb form... baptism is something we receive more than "do"), to mark this new commitment. We invoke the Holy Spirit to fill and equip her. And yes, we teach her all that Jesus has commanded, in all its counter-intuitive glory – to love enemies, value the poor more than our own, seek peace over being right, to name a few. And we train her to walk in the Spirit, so that choosing to obey Jesus’ commands gradually becomes a desire, not just a duty.
Making disciples starts with us. Do you consider yourself a disciple of Jesus Christ, the Risen Lord? Why or why not? If you’re not, and you want to be, you can pray, “Okay, Jesus, I want to follow you… show me how.” And ask someone you consider to be a disciple already to walk alongside you.
Is there someone you know whom you might mentor in the faith, helping them discover discipleship? You can start by praying for God to bless that desire and give you openings.
Making disciples is a little more complex than “just add water” – but it’s God’s work. We just get to help.
6-6-17 - Some Doubted
The gospel reading set for Sunday is Matthew’s version of Jesus’ last encounter with his disciples:
Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshipped him; but some doubted.
Some doubted? After running into the resurrected Jesus for several weeks, some still weren’t sure? Of course, it can be very hard to overcome our belief in the impossible, even when it’s staring us in the face. An empty tomb and forty days were not enough for some, and still aren’t for many.
A healthy faith grows like a tree, its roots reaching deep into the soil of God-Life, accessing nutrients and building a stable base. It has a strong trunk able to support its growth. It reaches out branches toward God in praise, and toward other people in offering, allowing fruit and leaves to form. Yet no two trees grow alike. Each develops according to its situation, the nutrients available, sunlight and shade – and the winds. Some trunks are sinewy and gnarled, strengthened by adversity. Some branches extend in long arcs, others divide and reach toward the light, others break of their own weight and crash to earth.
Doubt can work like a strong wind on our trees of faith, its pressure causing us to grow stronger. Doubt is a natural part of a living faith. It’s how we respond to it that makes the difference. If we acknowledge doubt when it surfaces and bring it into our relationship with God, it can add texture and depth to our faith. If we allow doubts to inspire us lean harder on God, even to test, to say, “I don’t understand; show me,” they can actually deepen our faith.
But if we stay shielded from doubt by a black-and-white certainty, we can be like trees that grow tall and uniform – and easily toppled in a crisis. And if our doubts cause us to turn away from God, we don't fully experience the joys of that relationship, though God has not turned away from us.
How often do you engage doubts about God, about Jesus, about the power of God in the world or your life? What tends to trigger it? How do you tend to respond?
Today, can you bring one of those trouble areas into prayer? See what you discern in response.
As followers of the Risen Christ, we do not sign on to a set of doctrines. We enter into relationship with the multi-faceted triune God. There is room in God for our faith, our doubts, our love, our fears, and a whole lot more. Our faith is strengthened as we allow God to water our roots every day, as we allow life to prune our branches, as we withstand the winds and rain – and as we nurture ourselves to bear abundant fruit.
So we will be “…like trees planted by streams of water; bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither.” (Psalm 1:3)
Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshipped him; but some doubted.
Some doubted? After running into the resurrected Jesus for several weeks, some still weren’t sure? Of course, it can be very hard to overcome our belief in the impossible, even when it’s staring us in the face. An empty tomb and forty days were not enough for some, and still aren’t for many.
A healthy faith grows like a tree, its roots reaching deep into the soil of God-Life, accessing nutrients and building a stable base. It has a strong trunk able to support its growth. It reaches out branches toward God in praise, and toward other people in offering, allowing fruit and leaves to form. Yet no two trees grow alike. Each develops according to its situation, the nutrients available, sunlight and shade – and the winds. Some trunks are sinewy and gnarled, strengthened by adversity. Some branches extend in long arcs, others divide and reach toward the light, others break of their own weight and crash to earth.
Doubt can work like a strong wind on our trees of faith, its pressure causing us to grow stronger. Doubt is a natural part of a living faith. It’s how we respond to it that makes the difference. If we acknowledge doubt when it surfaces and bring it into our relationship with God, it can add texture and depth to our faith. If we allow doubts to inspire us lean harder on God, even to test, to say, “I don’t understand; show me,” they can actually deepen our faith.
But if we stay shielded from doubt by a black-and-white certainty, we can be like trees that grow tall and uniform – and easily toppled in a crisis. And if our doubts cause us to turn away from God, we don't fully experience the joys of that relationship, though God has not turned away from us.
How often do you engage doubts about God, about Jesus, about the power of God in the world or your life? What tends to trigger it? How do you tend to respond?
Today, can you bring one of those trouble areas into prayer? See what you discern in response.
As followers of the Risen Christ, we do not sign on to a set of doctrines. We enter into relationship with the multi-faceted triune God. There is room in God for our faith, our doubts, our love, our fears, and a whole lot more. Our faith is strengthened as we allow God to water our roots every day, as we allow life to prune our branches, as we withstand the winds and rain – and as we nurture ourselves to bear abundant fruit.
So we will be “…like trees planted by streams of water; bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither.” (Psalm 1:3)
6-5-17 - Trinity
Next Sunday is Trinity Sunday – in all of Christendom except at St. Columba’s, where we will be busy celebrating Columba Day and saying goodbye to our beloved minister of music. But that's no reason not to explore the Trinity this week. And I'm going to start with: Why three? Why not two, or four, or one – which would have been so much easier to explain. Yes, we believe God is One, but Christians also assert that God is Three persons within the One Godhead. Why three?
The shortest answer I know is, because Jesus said so. He spoke of his Father in heaven, he spoke of himself as Son of God, and he referred in personal terms to the Holy Spirit, who would be sent when he was no longer bodily present. And there were stories, like the voice heard at His baptism, “This is my Son, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased,” and the Spirit descending upon him. Early church preachers and thinkers, trying to interpret collected stories and teachings, had to wrestle with these references. When you think about it, seeing God as triune was unavoidable, given how Jesus refers to these three distinct persons as God.
Unavoidable doesn’t mean simple. It took centuries to sort out and articulate Christian doctrine about God, and some of the process was torturous, as it is any time we try to talk about the Unity and the Trinity of God (read the Athanasian Creed sometime…) On the one Sunday each year when we highlight not an event but a doctrine, preachers twist themselves into pretzels trying to clarify a spiritual mystery. Sun, ray, beam…. Orange, peel, juice… Mother, wife, sister… Water, ice, steam…. Or the image I stumbled onto a few weeks ago: sea, water-fall and spray. (I rather like that one.)
A good formula for the Trinity does not allocate different functions to Father, Son and Spirit, but affirms their sharing in the full life of God. It conveys distinction between persons and the unity of the whole – and so affirms the principles of differentiation and wholeness that are so important for human health and thriving. It communicates the core Christian belief that God is One and also more than One; that God is so big, God could not be contained as just One but exists in eternal relationship of persons.
We are invited to join this ongoing, active, relational life of God. The Christian life is not about assenting to a belief, but actively joining a relationship already in full swirl, and somehow richer when you and I join in. Some liken it to a dance, in which we are swept up, folded in, made whole.
What difference does understanding God as Trinity make to us? It gives us different ways to connect with God. Some relate to God as Spirit, unseen but powerful and present. Some connect better to God the Father, transcendent and holy, unknowable and yet perfect love. And some find their connection to the Son who left his heavenly home to enter our world as a human being, making God knowable to us.
Who do you find you most connect with in prayer?
The shortest answer I know is, because Jesus said so. He spoke of his Father in heaven, he spoke of himself as Son of God, and he referred in personal terms to the Holy Spirit, who would be sent when he was no longer bodily present. And there were stories, like the voice heard at His baptism, “This is my Son, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased,” and the Spirit descending upon him. Early church preachers and thinkers, trying to interpret collected stories and teachings, had to wrestle with these references. When you think about it, seeing God as triune was unavoidable, given how Jesus refers to these three distinct persons as God.
Unavoidable doesn’t mean simple. It took centuries to sort out and articulate Christian doctrine about God, and some of the process was torturous, as it is any time we try to talk about the Unity and the Trinity of God (read the Athanasian Creed sometime…) On the one Sunday each year when we highlight not an event but a doctrine, preachers twist themselves into pretzels trying to clarify a spiritual mystery. Sun, ray, beam…. Orange, peel, juice… Mother, wife, sister… Water, ice, steam…. Or the image I stumbled onto a few weeks ago: sea, water-fall and spray. (I rather like that one.)
A good formula for the Trinity does not allocate different functions to Father, Son and Spirit, but affirms their sharing in the full life of God. It conveys distinction between persons and the unity of the whole – and so affirms the principles of differentiation and wholeness that are so important for human health and thriving. It communicates the core Christian belief that God is One and also more than One; that God is so big, God could not be contained as just One but exists in eternal relationship of persons.
We are invited to join this ongoing, active, relational life of God. The Christian life is not about assenting to a belief, but actively joining a relationship already in full swirl, and somehow richer when you and I join in. Some liken it to a dance, in which we are swept up, folded in, made whole.
What difference does understanding God as Trinity make to us? It gives us different ways to connect with God. Some relate to God as Spirit, unseen but powerful and present. Some connect better to God the Father, transcendent and holy, unknowable and yet perfect love. And some find their connection to the Son who left his heavenly home to enter our world as a human being, making God knowable to us.
Who do you find you most connect with in prayer?
Have you ever consciously tried to address another Person of the Trinity just to see how you might experience God differently? You might try it today...
I will leave us with a great formulation written by my friend Willy Welch in a song for children:
God is one person, and he’s also Three. God is a person, and He’s a family.
One, he is the Father; Two, he is the Son; Three, he is the Spirit, and they’re never done.
I will leave us with a great formulation written by my friend Willy Welch in a song for children:
God is one person, and he’s also Three. God is a person, and He’s a family.
One, he is the Father; Two, he is the Son; Three, he is the Spirit, and they’re never done.
6-2-17 - One-Two Punch
Pentecost was not the first time the disciples received the Holy Spirit – that happened on Easter night, when Jesus showed up in a locked room, risen and whole, his wounds visible but healed. He came to commission and to equip.
Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”
One thing that mystifies me about this event is how little effect it seems to have had on the disciples. Jesus said, “I send you…” but a week later he shows up again, and they're still there, locked in fear. And though some of them took a foray out to go fishing on the Sea of Galilee, after Jesus’ ascension they went right back to that room, where they still were on Pentecost when the Spirit came in fullness.
I don’t know what that’s about theologically – for what it's worth, the events are recorded in different gospels. But that progression is true for many Christians. We receive the gift of the Spirit in baptism; it is renewed in us at confirmation, and every time we go to the communion rail, and often when we’re in prayer and ministry… we receive the gift of the Spirit many times in the Christian life. Yet many Christians don’t feel that power and life, that giftedness for ministry. The life of the Spirit is in them, yet somewhat muted or dormant until it is released by request. I often liken it to an unlimited bank account to which we’ve received the access code, but unless we use it, the riches just sit there.
Maybe we all need to do it in two steps. Trying to be a Christ-follower without the active participation of the Holy Spirit in, with, and through us is like trying to drive a car on fumes. We may get somewhere, but generally it’s by coasting. God wants to fill our tanks! God has places for us to go and people for us to bear Christ to, and mission he wants to do through us. We don’t need to do anything on our own steam – in fact, we can’t do much of lasting worth without the power of God working through us by the Spirit.
The Spirit of God brings us supernatural peace in unpeaceful circumstances, supernatural courage in the face of fearsome challenges, supernatural giftedness to do more than we think is possible. The more we are filled with the Spirit, the less room there is for illness or despair or anxiety. When I’m down or sick, I’ve learned to pray, “Come, Holy Spirit, fill me,” because it’s the only prayer I need.
If you would like a deeper filling of the Spirit, a releasing of God’s gifts in you, more vital and connected ministry, a greater sense of groundedness in your life, that’s the only prayer you need too. “Come, Holy Spirit – be released in me!” Pentecost will come. Again, and again.
Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”
One thing that mystifies me about this event is how little effect it seems to have had on the disciples. Jesus said, “I send you…” but a week later he shows up again, and they're still there, locked in fear. And though some of them took a foray out to go fishing on the Sea of Galilee, after Jesus’ ascension they went right back to that room, where they still were on Pentecost when the Spirit came in fullness.
I don’t know what that’s about theologically – for what it's worth, the events are recorded in different gospels. But that progression is true for many Christians. We receive the gift of the Spirit in baptism; it is renewed in us at confirmation, and every time we go to the communion rail, and often when we’re in prayer and ministry… we receive the gift of the Spirit many times in the Christian life. Yet many Christians don’t feel that power and life, that giftedness for ministry. The life of the Spirit is in them, yet somewhat muted or dormant until it is released by request. I often liken it to an unlimited bank account to which we’ve received the access code, but unless we use it, the riches just sit there.
Maybe we all need to do it in two steps. Trying to be a Christ-follower without the active participation of the Holy Spirit in, with, and through us is like trying to drive a car on fumes. We may get somewhere, but generally it’s by coasting. God wants to fill our tanks! God has places for us to go and people for us to bear Christ to, and mission he wants to do through us. We don’t need to do anything on our own steam – in fact, we can’t do much of lasting worth without the power of God working through us by the Spirit.
The Spirit of God brings us supernatural peace in unpeaceful circumstances, supernatural courage in the face of fearsome challenges, supernatural giftedness to do more than we think is possible. The more we are filled with the Spirit, the less room there is for illness or despair or anxiety. When I’m down or sick, I’ve learned to pray, “Come, Holy Spirit, fill me,” because it’s the only prayer I need.
If you would like a deeper filling of the Spirit, a releasing of God’s gifts in you, more vital and connected ministry, a greater sense of groundedness in your life, that’s the only prayer you need too. “Come, Holy Spirit – be released in me!” Pentecost will come. Again, and again.
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