Trinity Sunday - Year C (John 16:12-15)

To be guided by the Spirit into the truth is to be guided, not into a set of propositions, but into the person of Jesus Christ (who called himself the truth), and through Jesus, into the very life of God. Trinitarian faith, then, is not so much an intellectual project as it is a spiritual or dare I say mystical experience. To say this is in no way intended as a slam against the academic study of the Trinity. In fact, I very much enjoyed my seminary Trinity course. It is just that understanding spirations and processions only gets you so far.

I frequently pass a church when driving across town that had the following message on its sign for quite some time: “Teaching the truth, verse by verse.” In this view every verse of the Bible must be seen as an intellectual proposition of equal value to all others. Such a notion, unintentionally no doubt, attempts to limit not only scripture, but the triune God as well. Our arrival at a full understanding of the truth about God and ourselves is, as today’s Gospel makes clear, a process. The Spirit “will guide you into all truth”. It is not instantaneous. It is not a onetime event. It is a relationship.

It is sometimes difficult not to chuckle at the intricate diagrams traditionally used in catechisms and theological textbooks to describe the Trinity. This is especially true when compared to the eastern Christian tradition as exemplified in Rublev’s famous icon of the Trinity (see image below). Instead of a problem to be solved, the Trinity is a mystery into which the Christian is invited to enter. The three “persons” of the Trinity are posed in such a way as to summon the viewer into the divine relationship.

Vacation

While one might expect a lovely restful vacation in Vermont to result in even more profound thoughts on the Gospel of Pentecost Sunday, it just did not happen.  I hope to have something to share in a few days for Trinity Sunday.

Pax,
Austin

7th Sunday of Easter - Year C (John 17: 20-26)

Here we go with the pronouns again!
A few thoughts on Christian unity:
1. Unity is God’s work. I find it interesting that in the Gospel of John, Jesus commands his followers to love another but he does not command unity. The unity so ardently desired by Jesus is obviously not something human beings can accomplish apart from grace.
2. The model for this unity is theological and not political. Rooted in the Trinity, Christian unity is about shared mission and the bonds of mutual charity. I recall a diagram explaining the Trinity that emphasized that the Father is NOT the Son or the Spirit and so on. Christian unity has nothing to do with uniformity.
3. To further emphasize a point partially made in #2, the unity that Jesus prays for is totally mission focused. It is not a self-serving warm fuzzy togetherness. It is not an end in itself. Its purpose is that the world might believe.
4. Keeping # 3 in mind, I do believe, however, that there is a mystical component to this God given unity. The concrete experience of God bringing believers together for the sake of mission is a participation in the very life of God.

Ascension - Year C (Luke 21: 44-53)

The shear physicality of our redemption in Christ, his death on the cross and his bodily resurrection, has at times been a source of embarrassment for Christians. When talking about the Ascension, the return of Jesus, including his body, to the right hand of the Father, the embarrassment becomes even more pronounced. This is because, it would stand to reason, if Jesus’ body is ascended then it is up there, or out there, or over there, but definitely somewhere. If our technology was just sophisticated enough then we should be able to find him, right? An odd thought at best, even a little embarrassing.

Throughout its history the Church has struggled with those within and without who would prefer a more “spiritual” religion. Orthodox Christianity, rooted in Judaism and not Greek philosophy, has tenaciously refused to give up its radical connection to the human body and the physical “stuff” of creation. Despite evidence to the contrary over the past two millennia, the Church has always clung to its affirmation of the basic goodness of creation and of the embodied human person. Earth does not stand between the soul and heaven. Earth is the very stuff of which heaven is made. The idea of disembodied souls sitting on clouds playing harps has no basis in Christian theology.
I am neither a theologian nor a physicist. I cannot speak with any certainty as to “where” the physical body of Jesus now resides. And, if you will excuse the pun, that is ultimately neither here nor there. What does matter is that human beings, including our bodies, are important to God and that this earth of ours has an eternal destiny. Given the number of bodies brutalized by poverty, abuse and war, the Ascension reminds us that Christianity’s response to these issues is not a promised disembodied future but remedies in the here and now. Justice and peace must begin now! With the gulf oil spill only the latest in a long line of injuries inflicted on the earth, the Ascension reminds us that this lovely planet is not ultimately destined for the garbage heap or the incinerator. God’s covenant love extends to animals, plants, land, sea and air.

6th Sunday of Easter - Year C (John 14:23-29 or John 5:1-9)

John 14:23-29


This Johannine text, like so many that we hear during the great Fifty Days, is full of goings and comings and makes extensive use of pronouns. The “Farewell Discourse” makes me grateful for my extensive training in sentence diagramming at the feet of the good sisters who taught me in elementary school. It sometimes takes a diagram to keep everything that is happening in these passages in order.

There are several points worth noting in this particular text and anyone of them could be a point of departure for preaching. The first point can be found at the very beginning in verse 23. “Those who love me will keep my word . . .” At first glance, this seems like it might be an endorsement of biblical fundamentalism. That is until we remember the Prologue of John’s Gospel. The word is, in fact, the Word of God who has taken flesh in Jesus. The keeping of the word is about entering into a dynamic and mutual relationship with Jesus, not about keeping the word as law.

How this relationship is possible is the subject of the second point. In the text, Jesus says “I am going away, and I am coming to you.” Post resurrection/ascension, Jesus is no longer present to his disciples in the way he has been. When Jesus departs, the Holy Spirit is received. Through the presence of this Spirit in the Church and in individuals, we are able to enter into relationship with the risen Christ.

Finally, a word about that peace which Christ gives and which is somehow different from the peace which the “world” gives. I am reminded of the description of the motto of a fictional Benedictine monastery in the novel In This House of Brede by Rumer Godden. One of the traditional symbols of Benedictine monasticism is the Latin word for peace, Pax, surrounded by a crown of thorns. “The motto was ‘Pax,’ but the word was set in a circle of thorns. Pax: peace, but what a strange peace, made of unremitting toil and effort, seldom with a seen result; subject to constant interruptions, unexpected demands, short sleep at nights, little comfort, sometimes scant food; beset with disappointments and usually misunderstood; yet peace all the same, undeviating filled with joy and gratitude and love.” This is no doubt an accurate description of the experience of the community to which this particular version of the Good News was originally addressed.

-or-
John 5:1-9

God said “let there be light” and there was light. Jesus said “take your mat and walk” and the man took up his mat and walked. The all powerful creative Word of God which called creation into being is still at work in that creation. God’s gracious will for our wholeness is not limited by the Law. This healing happened, as the evangelist reports, on the Sabbath. Nor is this gracious will for our wholeness limited by our own enfeebled will. The man, after all, did not answer Jesus in the affirmative when asked if he wanted to be healed. He only spoke about his own inadequacies and the inadequacies of those who should have helped him. Jesus heals him anyway. Our creator, after all, knows us better than we know ourselves.

None of us is exempt from self pity. Advanced age, chronic illness, unhappy relationships, economic hardships – all these things take their toll on us and we seldom respond as bravely as we might hope. It would be all too easy to use this Gospel passage as a club to beat up on those who are already weak, poor and sick by accusing them of a lack of gumption. This story, thank God, is not about human weakness. It is about God’s power made manifest in Jesus, God’s power at work in our lives in ways beyond our understanding or even our willing. Our creator God is no distant clock maker who built us, wound us up, and let us go off on our own. No, our creator God has become incarnate in Jesus and has entered totally into our human experience. Jesus knows our weaknesses of mind and body and is able to see through and even beyond our occasional lapses into self pity. God is at work for our good even when we do not actively seek Him. God is gift, not reward. This is the meaning of grace.