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The early church was itself puzzled by the Spirit, and unable to make much in the way of theological sense of this area of doctrine. And even today the Holy Spirit is an area fraught with competing interpretations.
So, what is the Holy Spirit? How might we recognize it?
How might our lives be touched, shaped and directed by the Spirit?
Where do we start to take on the awesome responsibility of discerning quite where the Spirit may be leading us?
And when we pray, if we pray, do we really understand what we are praying for – and what we should be praying for?
And how do we even begin to defeat hate, cruelty and indifference, not only in our world, but also within our own hearts?
Jesus staying with Mary and Martha is another story told only by Luke, and it continues a theme that is clearly dear to him. The breaking of cultural and religious boundaries and a declaration of radical acceptance and inclusion.
And, of course, the story is not really about doing the dishes, and it's not really about Martha and Mary – but about us.
In our lives, what do we place first – keeping busy, getting lots of things done, perhaps keeping even intentionally distracted by the mundane and unchallenging, convincing ourselves that we are working hard, or getting on with the real task, the real and more difficult work of our lives?
Isn’t it so easy – just to juggle our lives away?
Tensions have always been intrinsic to the Christian Church, think of the controversies surrounding slavery, race, divorce, women’s role in the church, one could go on.On the one hand there are those, like Peter, who believe the Church should have boundaries and borders, acting like a fortress, which can only care for and protect those within, by defining, identifying and excluding those who are without. That the old ways need to resist the challenge of the new, if not forever, then certainly for as long as possible – church as a perpetual rearguard action – holding back the winds of change and compromise – fidelity to the past.On the other hand, the modern counterparts of Paul, who believe that the Truth the Church professes can only be so if it is universal; that to be the Good News, it must, of necessity, be so for all.That the central revelation of Christianity is that all notions of tribalism, social, ethnic and gender distinction were swept away, by the life, teaching, ministry, and new life in Jesus.Could we not learn from the example of Peter and Paul? After all they too believed they were fighting for the future of the Church, and their visions were very different indeed.Each would come to pursue their own mission, their own calling, trusting that Providence would, in time, resolve any inconsistencies, reservations and doubts that they might harbour.They had neither a shared policy, nor shared theology, but simply a mutually recognised commitment that each would serve the Gospel, as best he could, in his own way, and what the Holy Spirit would bless, it would bless.
In the story of the Gadarene swine we encounter a man, afflicted and tormented by forces beyond his control.In terrible mental anguish, ostracised by his own people, driven from their midst, he now lives like a wounded wild animal, naked, dehumanised.And not just then, we know that any oppressed minority today, who endure overt and covert discrimination suffer higher levels of mental illness, stroke, heart disease, even certain cancers, and a whole ‘host’ of other disorders linked to social injustice and abuse.We are challenged to question who we continue to reject, and push to the margins, who we demonise. Certainly, the poor, the disabled, those who mentally ill, and LGBTQIA+ people, continue to feel other, less than and marginalised, sadly even, sometimes especially within our churches. And what does that say about the sickness of ourselves and the systems we devise and protect?
There is a familiar expression that someone has a ‘bright’ idea or a ‘lightbulb moment’. Or that someone’s performance was ‘electrifying’, or the atmosphere in the theatre was ‘electric’ - We can have a ‘burning desire to succeed’, or we can have a ‘blazing row’, emotions can become ‘inflamed’, and someone can have a ‘fiery temper’, or a ‘burning hatred’. We might compliment a performer by saying there were ‘on fire’ last night.The Pentecost story is perhaps, hopefully, one of the most obvious and uncontentious employments of metaphor in scripture – but from it we can draw a wider lesson – that we do ourselves, our world, and the original writers of scripture a terrible disservice, if we cannot allow their use of metaphor to enrich, colour and deepen our understanding, and instead insist upon simply a literal surface level reading of the stories that they strived for so long to craft and create.So, what is at the heart of Pentecost? What is significant, of prime importance for us?
Let’s be honest, have you ever liked or respected someone who said to you ‘You are either for me or against me’?Usually, the words of a bully, certainly those of limited wisdom and imagination. Especially if those words are backed up with threat and intimidation. But, this duality of thinking, right or wrong, good or bad, in or out, is all too pervasive throughout history and human psychology to this day. Economists and mathematical game theorists call this type of thinking the zero-sum game, in which each participant's gain (or loss) is exactly balanced by the losses (or gains) of the other participant(s).In other words, if someone is to win, then someone has to lose.You can find people who embrace these false dichotomies, and there are a lot of them, in politics, in the White House, in everyday life, in theology.This is not at all how I see Jesus, or the divine reality that inspired him. This not the God I believe in, or the type of church that I believe we should build.Instead, we should strive to create a community where all are welcome, all are valued, all are loved for who and what they are, without reserve and without limit.
A Bishop was once reported in the press to have commented that the resurrection was about a ‘conjuring trick with old bones’. Bishop David Jenkins was branded the ‘unbelieving Bishop’ and the satirical TV puppet show ‘Spitting Image’ even had a sketch of him persuading God to become an atheist.That misquote of the Bishop has cascaded down through the years, following him wherever he went – the problem is – he never said it.In fact, what the Bishop of Durham had said was that the resurrection is ‘so much more than a conjuring trick with old bones’ an entirely different statement.Because Bishop David was trying to get us to focus on the meaning, the significance of the resurrection, on the transformation of the disciples and the growth of the Christian community, and potentially of ourselves, rather than obsessing about overly literal interpretations of the experience of Jesus, real or embellished, after his death.The secret to practising resurrection is in letting go of the artificial self, the person we pretend to be, the masks we wear, the possessions that trap us and giving ourselves to something greater than ourselves.The Jewish theologian Martin Buber tells the story of an ageing pious man, Rabbi Susya, who became fearful as his life drew to a close. His friends chided him saying “What! Are you afraid that you’ll be reproached for not being Moses” “No,” the rabbi replied. “That I was not truly myself”.
I cannot stand unfairness and injustice.Today, not only as Chair of Changing Attitude Ireland, but also simply as someone who abhors unfairness, I see this all too clearly in the treatment of LGBTQ people within our church. Within most churches.Of course, there are those who for one reason or another disapprove of, denigrate and discriminate against the LGBTQ community and will cite scripture or tradition, with varying degrees of casuistry and equivocation to justify their fears and prejudices. I find little to defend the variety of their arguments, but at least one knows where one stands. But what I find indefensible are those who affect to sympathise, who acknowledge the injustice, who declare themselves committed to the righting of the wrong, to securing justice for those discriminated against – but not yet. Essentially throwing a minority under the bus for some spurious and entirely illusory sense of church unity.Of course, it is usually the defenceless and the voiceless who are sacrificed so blithely, sacrifices are rarely required of those who have influence and power.But justice only for some, is really justice for none. If any organisation, and especially the church, tolerates injustice towards the few, then it is an unjust community. Its claims to show love, acceptance and compassion are meaningless unless they extend to all.And to knowingly practice injustice, just for the sake of church politics and pragmatism is even worse than prejudice and bigotry – for at least the intolerant own their opinions. But to be unjust, knowing it to be wrong, continuing anyway, for some supposed ulterior goal, is the worst kind of hypocrisy and mendacity.There can be no place for it in our church and in our lives.
I wonder, not only about the first Easter, but especially the Easters that soon followed, those of the first and second centuries, when Christianity was still so new, so radical and relatively untouched by the worlds of wealth and power. And the people who spoke of themselves as following ‘the Way’.We now live through a time when Christianity seems under threat as never before, at least in the West, and there is an emerging generation who regard, often rightly, some of its past beliefs and prejudices as socially and morally toxic.So, is it still possible to speak of new life and new hope? Is resurrection still a story we can tell?In fact, I believe that there are signs that the Christian faith has still very much to say to our world and to help shape the future of mankind. But it requires us to look to ‘The Way’ once again, to prioritise not what we claim to believe, but what we do, how we act, how we live out Jesus’ great commandments of love.
It was a widespread belief of Jesus’ time that suffering and misfortune were a sign of God’s displeasure and punishment, that they were somehow earned and deserved.Let’s be frank, we can even fall prey to the same superstitious beliefs today, where adversity and affliction can all too easily be labelled as the consequences of such phrases as ‘poor choices’ or ‘unhealthy lifestyle’ – at least by those who lead privileged lives.But two thousand years ago, Jesus was warning about this erroneous connection between good fortune and virtue, and misfortune and vice.Sometimes, mostly, suffering is random, undeserved, not the consequences of our guilt or complicity and conversely, good fortune and advantage in life is rarely distributed equitably.Especially it seems in American and Western politics, no question more reliably divides conservatives from liberals, than the element of luck in economic success.But in recent years, social scientists have discovered that sheer chance actually plays a much larger role in important life outcomes than most people imagine, or we are comfortable acknowledging.This, of course, should engender our compassion for those who suffer, and greater humility in our privilege – but I wonder, in reality, if it does?
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