Come Holy Spirit

 

Over the years we have come to understand that John’s Gospels often defy literal translation. We suspend our intellect's literal inclination to enable the words to become flesh in us. In so doing we take them to our hearts so that we might intuitively feel their presence through the power of the the Holy Spirit. Padovano tells us that Jesus will never be found by those who reduce faith to words or doctrines or who limit religious behavior to moral exercises or spiritual behavior. 

So, in our Gospel (John 14:15-21) Jesus says: “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him.”

Have we ever seen the Holy Spirit? This is not a trick question. Let’s think for a moment. The best description we ever get in religious depictions of the Holy Spirit are tongues of flame or a freely blowing breeze. However, in this week's reading we get two helpful hints that offer a pretty good picture of just what the Holy Spirit looks like. 

The Holy Spirit looks like an Advocate --the one who stands up for you when you need it; the one who speaks on your behalf; the one who lends you a helping hand, takes your side, and won't leave you while you're down. 
The Spirit is "another advocate" because Jesus is the first. The Spirit, Jesus goes on to say, will abide with us and is sent in Jesus' name to remind us of what he taught while on earth. In a very real way, the Spirit affirms Jesus presence in us and through us, and helps to keep his promise that he will not leave us orphaned. You know him, because he abides and lives with us 

An advocate is defined as one who upholds and defends a cause or person, and intercedes on the part of another. Yes, we've seen the Spirit many times in those who share the love of Christ, and stand up for one another. 

John’s Gospel is as relevant today as it was when it was written two thousand years ago. There are advocates for the love of God in our midst…and there are adversaries. 

Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in us the fire of your love.  

 

Do Not Let Your Hearts Be Troubled

We are taught to read literature as we would a newspaper. Time and words are sequential. It’s one–dimensional, in that the words on the page are an array of letters in our English language that communicates information in real time. What you see on the surface is what really is in "black and white." There is nothing but space between the lines. This is not the case when we read the Gospel and especially John’s. David Steindl-Rast writes: “to understand John’s images in the way they were meant, we must develop a sense for poetic language. These images speak to our intellect through our poetic sensibilities…Tuning in to this language means both taking them seriously and not taking them literally.” Marcus Borg goes on to say “it invites his hearers to see in a radically different new way. The appeal is to the imagination, to that place within us in which reside our images of reality and our images of life itself.” 

So when John begins the first chapter of his Gospel with In the beginning was the Word and the Word was God (verse 1)…And the word was made flesh and dwelt among us, he announces the incarnation of God in all his humanity as the Word became flesh in Jesus, and by extension, he signifies that the Word becomes flesh in us. “The Word speaks to us in that place in which resides our personal images of reality and our images of life itself.” 

So back to John’s Gospel for today (John 14:1-12).  Jesus comforts his apostles and says: Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me, says Jesus. Trust me. Trust God— you have seen God in me. I am enough. Trust that you will find me in the community as we come to see God in one another. Andrew Prior writes: “I do not think we can overstate the love and the intimacy of the household of God and our place in it. What we can miss, however, is that it is not a geographical place at a certain time. It is a relationship in eternity into which we can enter; in which we can place our trust. We will not be left alone, or orphaned.”  

We know that Jesus was killed for political reasons: he violated the “status quo,” the prevailing Jewish law that caused the Judeans, not all Jews, to want him removed. The Judeans were those who aligned themselves with Rome to maintain “control” of their “religion” and maintain their “status quo.” As such, their religious leaders collaborated with Imperial Rome to have Jesus “removed.”  

Throughout his life, Jesus made it clear that he resisted the man-made rules of “organized religion” as it existed. I wonder what he would think about the religions of today.  How different are some of its members from the Pharisees who resisted change. History reminds us that Jesus was not the last to be persecuted for bucking the “status quo.” Leave things alone I’m comfortable with the way things are; hey, I read the scripture and preach the Gospel; isn’t that enough?  But where is the Love that is Jesus?  

Wills tells us that “Jesus opposed any religion that is proud of its virtue, like the boastful Pharisee. Any that is self-righteous, quick to judge and condemn. Any that wallows in gossip that destroys and divides the community in order to serve its own purpose and not God’s.” And how do we relate to hear Jesus’s words in our Gospel: Do not let your hearts be troubled…I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.

 

...The Father and I are One"

 

I grew up in Brooklyn, New York in the ‘50s. We lived in a two family house in the Bay Ridge area. I recall those years as a beautiful, carefree time of life. At this time while doors and fences marked certain boundaries, it was not always necessary to lock our doors. And when we did lock them, my father kept a key in the milk box on the porch or left one with our upstairs neighbor. Our ability to come and go was carefree and safe. However, in later years when both my parents worked, I, as the oldest of my 2 siblings, was entrusted with that key. In time concern for safety appeared to be heightened and more attention was paid to locked doors and security. I know I was older and more aware of the news of the day but times were changing. We were a little less carefree and the world was not as safe as it was before.

Gates and doors provide protection and security as they are the means for going in and out of a home or place. They also serve as boundaries to permit entry and exit. In today’s Gospel (John 10:1-10), Jesus, the Good Shepherd, is portrayed as a “gate” and a caretaker. Our frame of reference for a shepherd may not likely fit with the image of the shepherd in the time of Jesus. Is there any more powerful artistic depiction of Jesus, the Good Shepherd in our Christian heritage? For me the famous painting of Jesus with the lamb draped over his shoulder that was hung on the wall in one of my grade-school classrooms, and one of our church’s stained glass windows said it all. Yet, in Jesus time and John wrote his Gospel, shepherds were among the most disreputable and mistrusted outcasts of society. Shepherds were drifters with no fixed address and because of their occupation, they were perpetually unclean and, therefore, in violation of Jewish law. They did not own the sheep they tended; they were “mere” stewards. These outcasts are the very people John’s gospel is referencing. 

But John challenges his listeners to look past assumptions of ownership and that which belongs to God. God’s sheepfold has no boundaries and is not demarcated by any sign or symbol.  God’s sheep include any and all of us. They include those who are considered outsiders, who exist on the fringe of the community, who are despised and even a little feared. 

When Jesus proclaims that “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me” he characterizes his role as a loving protector. We are told that there was no actual gate in sheep-folds and that the shepherd would stand, sit or lie down in the opening which allowed entry and exit. In this way the shepherd could serve as protector of his sheep. He knew his sheep and they knew him. John purposely contrasts Jesus, the Good Shepherd, with disreputable religious rulers of his time who exploited their congregations for their own benefit.

Jesus clearly spells out his role as the Good Shepherd and steward when he says I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish. No one can take them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one can take them out of the Father’s hand. The Father and I are one

 

 

 

 

 

Can Religion Keep Us From Our Journey?

 

Does our religion contribute to our spiritual development? Now don’t get me wrong my religion is important to me, although over the years I have come to appreciate that religion and faith are not always mutually inclusive or “symbiotic.” And while the Church, the Bible and the liturgy are important to our development, spiritual formation is more about learning to discern the call of God in our everyday lives. Spiritual Formation is an ongoing dynamic process in which we develop the “tools” to be able to see and align ourselves with people, places and things in which God is at work. I know this might sound like heresy but in some ways religion can become a static process that lulls us to sleep in its repetitive sameness. As such, it can become an “obstacle” to our call to “bear witness” to God’s Word to those outside the “upper room.” In a real sense we are preaching to the choir!

We in the comfort and security of our Church community, are like the apostles in the upper room after the Resurrections. When Jesus appeared to the apostles and Thomas he said “... As the Father has sent me, so I send you," he beckons us as he did his disciples to leave the upper room and live our lives outside the walls of our Church as we engage in Christian practices that are fundamental to human needs, and may have nothing to do with religion but everything to do with faith and God’s will for us. As such, we join with one another, and with Jesus, and with the communion of saints across time and space in a way of life that proclaims Christ’s victory over death and our eternal life. (Luke 24:13-35Luke 24:13-35) 

Now in “bearing witness” to the Word, I'm not talking about "life-style evangelism." That term for many of us, may evoke discomfort and have a strange connotation. Yet, we “bear witness” to the great movies or television programs we've seen and want others to enjoy. We bear witness to the accomplishments (or failures) of our sports teams. We bear witness to the important events in our family or work lives. We bear witness -- that is, tell someone about -- the things that matter to us all the time. We bear witness to feelings of joy, sadness and despair. We share life, our lives, with each other. No, I mean we bear witness to the presence of God, the Love, in all things in the here and now all the time. 

Witnessing is not really all that different when it comes to faith. It does not mean shoving our beliefs down someone's throat or threatening them with eternal hellfire if they don't believe as we do. The ego tries to convince, while love shares.  To witness is simply communicating with others where we sense God’s presence -- at home or work, at church or school, or in a stranger or a friend, a doctor or teacher or neighbor, or even in a tragedy. Bearing witness is nothing more than proclaiming God’s presence in our life and  in our behavior as the Word becomes flesh in us and those we encounter as we live his Word…  by Him and with Him and in Him in the unity of the Holy Spirit.

 

 

 

My Lord and My God

In many ways we are just like Thomas; aren’t we? We really don’t want to come by our faith second hand (John 20:19-31). Our parents taught us that something worth havi
ng was something worth working for? So, we ask; is there really such a thing as “blind faith?” Blind faith does not encourage us to probe; it denies us the opportunity to question, to know what we believe intuitively, in our “core.” Blind faith requires minimal spiritual investment and permits those inclined to cruise through their spiritual journey without the opportunity to really live life’s joy and danger. True faith requires knowing what we believe…beyond any doubt. So, Thomas in refusing to say that he understood what he did not understand, or believe what he did not believe, exhibited an honesty that prompted his need to know.

Thomas wasn’t the faithless doubter. The so-called faithful disciples remained locked up in the upper room hiding in fear. Fear not doubt gets in the way of our letting the Holy Spirit take charge. Where did Thomas go while others were in hiding? What prompted him to return to his community? Was Thomas “working” at trying to know what he was asked to believe? Thomas wanted the experience of a deeper vision or sight. He was unwilling to blindly accept; it had to be real for him.

True faith is based on trust in God. True faith knows we can deepen our faith by asking critical questions of our traditions and our “inherited” belief propositions. We do this by leaving our comfort zones and living in new ways. Thomas’ encounter with the risen Lord challenges us to know what we believe so for us as, with Thomas, we too can personally acclaim “My Lord and my God.”

The Lord Has Risen

 

It’s only natural to think of Easter and the Resurrection as a miracle; after all Christ’s rising from the dead is extraordinary and solely in God’s realm. Yet, calling Easter a miracle makes the event exclusively God’s and removes us from having anything to do with it. I don’t believe that this is God’s intent since God’s incarnation in Jesus and Jesus’ death and resurrection were for our salvation and did not benefit God. God did not need Jesus' death or resurrection. God performs miracles but man celebrate sacraments. While God works a miracles inderpendent from man, man is essential to the presence of a sacrament. A sacrament requires our participation for its very existence. 

Easter is never more "sacramental" than when one man gives his life for another. Christians seek to make Easter sacramental in their lives by their memory of Jesus through their words and deeds.

John Calvin wrote that becoming Son of man with us, he made us sons of God with him; that by his descent to earth, he has prepared an ascent to heaven for us; that by taking on out mortality, he has conferred his immortality upon us; that accepting our weakness, he has strengthened us by his power; that receiving our poverty unto himself, he has transferred our wealth to us; that taking the weight of our iniquity upon himself (which oppressed us), he has clothed us with his righteousness. (Kruger, The Shack Revisited, p. 197)

Jesus became incarnate to teach us how to live our lives and to reside in Him through Jesus. Each time we celebrate the Eucharist and say “in him through him and with him,”  we are reminded of our participation in his birth, death and resurrection. (John 20:1-9) (Adapted from Dawn without Darkness, Anthony Padovano, p78)

The Power of Love vs. The Love of Power

 

Every year the Roman army would come marching into Palestine during Passover. It was Pilate, the governor in the time of Jesus, who led the parade riding a white stallion, a symbol of Rome’s dominance. The parade was a reminder to the Jews not to cause trouble during Passover. As if to challenge Roman oppression, Jesus rode a donkey, a lowly beast of burden, in the opposite direction, entering through the gate from which Pilate exited. (Matthew 26:14—27:66)

 Pilate needed a whole legion to demonstrate his importance and control; however, Jesus’ “power” was rooted in the love of God. It was the power of love vs. the love of power on parade. The gospel writers tell us that this event was not accidental. Jesus planned it ahead of time. He knew he was risking the wrath of Rome by provoking Pilate. 

Contrary to some long-held beliefs, Jesus was not ransomed for us, but rather, he took and continues to take our place for the trials of our human existence. So then, why the cross? The cross was used by the Romans to not only destroy the identity of the one who was crucified, but to erase his mission and send a warning to any of his followers to “cease and desist.” Ironically, in the first century AD the cross was reviled as an image to be kept out of sight as it, on the surface, was a grim reminder of the despicable event on Good Friday. In time, however, the cross became the central symbol of our faith…a symbol that reminds us that the journey does not end with Jesus’ death but we, along with Jesus are resurrected to eternal life. The cross reminds us that death has no power over us because we live in the light of the resurrection of a “nobody” who was raised up as we will be. God is in the midst of our human experience. 

 

Now, I understand what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now.