Tag: Holy Spirit

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Sermon: Proper 11 RCL C – “Home for the Holy Spirit”

A woman decided to have her portrait painted. She said to the artist, “Paint me with diamond rings, a diamond necklace, emerald bracelets, a ruby brooch, and a gold Rolex.”

“But you are not wearing any of those things,” the artist replied.

“I know,” she said. “It’s in case I should die before my husband. I’m sure he will remarry right away, and I want his new wife to go crazy looking for the jewelry.”

The Golden Jubilee Diamond is the world’s largest cut and faceted diamond. It weighs 545.67 carats and is roughly the size of a golf ball. Its market value ranges from $4 million to $12 million, depending on the market. However, due to its color and clarity, it is not the most expensive diamond. That honor belongs to the Pink Star Diamond, which weighs 59.6 carats and sold for $71.2 million. Both diamonds were cut to maximize their carat weight.

When it comes to cutting diamonds, the round brilliant cut offers the most sparkle, with 57 or 58 facets. 57 if the bottom tip remains pointed, and 58 if the point is cut away. These facets are added to help the stone reflect and refract light, creating, in diamond terms, scintillation. 

Perhaps a lot of unnecessary detail, but the point is that our Gospel reading today—the story of Mary and Martha—appears only in Luke’s Gospel and, when studied, proves to be scintillating in all its facets. There are many ways to interpret it, most of which are true, while some are just silly.

One facet, and perhaps the most apparent one, is the difference between the busy and the prayerful life. Martha is rushing around, taking care of all the chores, while Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, listening to His words. Jesus says that Mary has chosen the better way, so we might say that a contemplative life is preferable to a busy one. It’s a good message, and I have preached it before. However, it does not capture the fullness of what is transpiring. 

To start with, if we claim that life is all about the contemplative, then no work gets done. We end up sitting around all day singing Kum ba Yah, letting someone else handle everything. That was similar to what happened in the time of Paul. Do you know what he said? “If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat. For we hear that some among you walk in idleness, not busy at work, but busybodies. Now, such persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living.” (2 Thessalonians 3:10-12) When Jesus says that Mary chose the better, he’s not saying that Martha chose the wrong. Something more is happening.

Another facet has us viewing this through a feminist lens, and I’m not being disrespectful when I say that. During the time of Jesus, within the Jewish home, there were only two places where men and women would mingle: outside or in the marital bedroom. The main public room—think of it as the living room—was the gathering place for visitors, but it was for men only. It was in this public room that Jesus was speaking. Yet, even though it was reserved for men, Mary was there, sitting with the men—the little hussy. She is not fulfilling her duty as a woman by cooking and cleaning. Not only that, she is also sitting in the place of a man. Yet, when Martha complains, Jesus says that Mary has chosen the better part. For some, this interpretation highlights how Jesus leveled the playing field for men and women. It can be viewed as a type of liberation for women, placing them on equal ground with men. Another good sermon, and one I’ve preached before, but even though it makes a good point, it doesn’t capture the bigger picture.

Another facet would be to take this same idea and apply it to how Jesus crossed all boundaries. By making the Gospel accessible to Mary and speaking to her so openly, it can go further to suggest that Jesus is willing to cross all boundaries—ethnic, social, political, cultural, and more—in order to bring the message of God’s love and redemption to everyone. An excellent point, and I’m sure at some point, I’ve preached it.

The ideas of elevating women or crossing boundaries are both valid understandings and teachings, but they are both lacking because they don’t address all aspects of what is happening.

One of the silly interpretations comes from some who suggest that Martha and Mary were deeply in love with Jesus, and that Martha’s jealousy stemmed from Mary’s physical closeness to Jesus. Just for the record, that is not a facet, I haven’t preached it, and I’m never going to. 

As you examine these events, you’ll discover various other facets, but they are simply that, facets. So, this week, as I kept trying to grasp the message, I never felt truly satisfied with my understanding. I kept focusing on the individual characters—Mary, Martha, Jesus, the disciples—and realized I had been approaching it all wrong. Instead of seeking understanding through the facets, I needed to pull back and view the diamond as a whole. 

I believe that this is what Luke was pointing to in the opening sentence: “As Jesus and his disciples went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home.” To understand, we don’t focus on the individual characters; instead, we consider the home and what is inside.

There is Jesus, our King and Redeemer. Like Mary, we are called to sit at His feet, learn from Him, and allow Him to guide our lives. At the same time, we are to be like Martha — tending to our individual callings, whether that means being a homemaker, a priest, a clerk, a nurse, or whatever else Jesus has assigned us. In doing so, we find balance. Too much work and we neglect time with Jesus. Although sitting with Jesus is the best choice, we can’t spend all our lives just sitting; we must also do the work. Does that mean we’ve abandoned Jesus? No. He is still in the house. He is still available to us. He is working alongside us.

In the Gospel of John, at the Last Supper, Jesus speaks to the disciples and says, “Whoever has my commandments and keeps them…” (John 14:21). Clarification: What are Jesus’ commandments? He gave them to the disciples just a few minutes earlier: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34-35)

So, “‘Whoever has my commandments and keeps them—that is, whoever loves—he is the one who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him.’ Judas (not Iscariot) said to him, ‘Lord, how is it that you will manifest yourself to us and not to the world?’ Jesus answered him, ‘If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.’” (John 14:21-23)

The events that occur in Martha’s home are an embodiment of Jesus’ words in the Gospel of John. 

Our bodies and our souls are a home. Within our home, we work, play, rest, and pray. We live. If we keep the commandment of Jesus to love one another, He and the Father, that is, the Holy Spirit, will come to us and become part of our home. There, guided by the very Spirit of God, we will live a life that is pleasing to Him.

Pitting Mary against Martha is the wrong approach when admiring this diamond. The former archbishop of Turin expressed it well: “In our house, there is room for Martha and room for Mary, and we must occupy both places. We must be Mary because we are welcoming the Word, and we must be Martha because we are receiving the Son of Man.” We need to be Mary to learn about God’s love, and we need to be Martha to express that love to others. It’s not Mary or Martha, but Mary in Martha (cf. Sanctify Your Daily Life by Stefan Cardinal Wyszynski, p.100), and vice versa, with the Holy Spirit working in both.

When inviting the Holy Spirit into your home, don’t just give it access to the “spiritual” aspects of your life, but instead, allow it to roam freely throughout every room, so you will have access to and benefit from this Gift from God.

Let us pray: Come, O Divine Spirit, fill our hearts with Your heavenly fruits: charity, joy, peace, patience, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faith, meekness, modesty, self-control, and chastity, so that we may never grow tired in serving God. Through continued faithful submission to Your inspiration, may we be found worthy to be united forever with You in the love of the Father and the Son. Amen.

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Sermon: Proper 8 RCL C – “How to Play God”

Photo by Artur Aldyrkhanov on Unsplash

You know him, but you probably don’t know him by name—Jonathan Goldsmith. A few facts about his life: his passport requires no photograph, his business card simply says ‘I’ll Call You,’ and he brought a knife to a gunfight—just to even the odds. He is The Most Interesting Man in the World, and from 2006 to 2016, he was often heard saying, “I don’t always drink beer, but when I do, I prefer Dos Equis.” Of course, the internet got hold of that, and the memes continue to explode.

I don’t always live dangerously, but when I do, I press send before proofreading.

I don’t always pass slow drivers, but when I do, I check to see if they look as stupid as they drive.

I don’t always “Whoop,” but when I do, there it is.

On days when I know I have a service or will be out and about doing priesty things, I wear my cassock and collar. It really does change the way people look at me and respond. When I’m dressed in regular street clothes, most folks just pass by. When I’m in the cassock and collar, most will speak. The cassock and collar identify me with the church, faith, and hopefully, God. I believe it’s important and helps people see “the church” in the world. The other day, I made a hospital visit, so I was in cassock and collar. On the way back to my car, a mom, a dad, and their four children were heading in. One of the boys looked over at me and then shouted, “Dad, it’s the Pope!” His dad corrected him and told him that I was a priest, but it made me think, “I don’t always wear a cassock and collar, but when I do, people think I’m the Pope!” How you doin’?

There are certain individuals, organizations, and ideas that hold a place of honor in our lives. When we see or think about them, we want to be associated with them. If we can’t necessarily be in a relationship with them, then we will seek ways to be identified with them. Can I just say, “Go, Thunder!” Score of 103-91. A few years ago, I attended an OSU basketball game, but it and the final against the Pacers were the only basketball games I’ve seen in at least a decade, if not more. Yet, when the Thunder won, I—and I’m sure every other Oklahoman—didn’t say, “The Thunder won!” Instead, it was, “WE won!” We won the national championship. Yes, indeed. The most difficult thing I did that entire evening was feeding myself, but WE won. We celebrate in the parade, we wear our gear, and we boast that we are champions.

No, I don’t believe that I’m the Pope, but I do closely associate and am aligned with the Church. My identity is deeply tied to it. This association, I pray that this connection also reflects my relationship and identity in God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

Being associated and finding identity with the Church, God, and even the Thunder isn’t a bad thing. It brings joy, happiness, and, for the Church and God, a sense of purpose. It fulfills me. However, such connection and identity can sometimes lead to undesirable effects and actions.

In Luke’s Gospel, leading up to our reading today, the Apostles witnessed and experienced many exciting and miraculous events. They saw Jesus calm the storm, feed the 5,000, cast out demons, and heal the sick. Peter declared Jesus to be the Christ, and together with James and John, they witnessed the Transfiguration. Additionally, Jesus sent them out to do the same works He was doing: preaching, healing, and casting out demons. When they return, they report their successes. Because of their association and identification with Jesus, they also began to see themselves as closely linked with the One Jesus identified with—the Father. This, in itself, is a very good thing. They begin to understand that they are truly God’s children; however, after the Transfiguration, things take an unpleasant turn. 

The Apostles begin to think that if they were with Jesus, they could sit in the seats of honor in the coming kingdom, which they still only understood as an earthly kingdom. They start arguing about who is the greatest, so that they can rule, not only over the kingdom but also over each other. Going even further, now that they were in so tight with Jesus and, through association, to the Father, they begin to see themselves having the same rights and powers that belong exclusively to God. When the Samaritan village turns away from Jesus, “James and John saw it, they said, ‘Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?’” 

Remember Abraham’s nephew, Lot. God had enough of the wickedness of Sodom and Gomorrah, so the “Lord rained down burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah—from the Lord out of the heavens. Thus, he overthrew those cities and the entire plain, destroying all those living in the cities—and also the vegetation in the land.” When Abraham looked down from the mountains, “he saw dense smoke rising from the land, like smoke from a furnace.”

James and John believed they had the right to judge as only God can judge. They not only wanted to be associated with and identified with Jesus and the Father, but they also sought God’s power. They wanted to judge, rage against those they saw as God’s enemies, and exact vengeance on them. They wanted to play God. 

I’m not surprised that the Scriptures tell us Jesus rebuked them, but I am actually quite surprised that the Scriptures didn’t say, “And Jesus looked at them in dismay and said, ‘Are ya stupid? Nobody can call down fire from Heaven. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.’” Why didn’t He say that? Because maybe we can’t burn a place or person down like what happened at Sodom and Gomorrah, but we can and do call down fire in other ways.

We put on our Jesus gear. We’ve got the crosses we wear and the clothes with messages that proclaim our faith. We talk openly about our faith. We post messages on social media for all the world to see. And if there were a Jesus parade, we’d jump in and want to ride on the float. We want to be associated and identified with Jesus and our faith. Good. Keep it up. There are many ways to proclaim the Good News. But, like the Apostles, we can take this too far.

We can come to believe that because we are with Jesus, we are holy or even holier than others. We can come to believe that if someone opposes our beliefs, they are opposing God, and therefore must be silenced because they are wrong and evil. We may believe that if they fail to keep our standards (even though we fail to do so ourselves), they are weak and unloved by God. We can look at others and then to Jesus and ask, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” When we do this, we take on the exclusive powers of God, playing God ourselves. In doing so, our sins become greater than those we judge, and we are the ones who need rebuking.

However, there is a way for us to play God, and in doing so, we take on not just what we understand as the power of God, but God’s true nature, as witnessed in Jesus. For if we have seen Jesus, we have seen the Father. What do we see in Jesus? St. Paul summed it up for us in his letter to the Galatians that we read this morning. We see in Jesus “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” Through the Spirit of God, we have the power to live this life.

William Temple was the Archbishop of Canterbury in the early 1940s. He writes,

“It is no good giving me a play like Hamlet or King Lear and telling me to write a play like that. Shakespeare could do it—I can’t. And it is no good showing me a life like the life of Jesus and telling me to live a life like that. Jesus could do it—I can’t. But if the genius of Shakespeare could come and live in me, then I could write plays like this. And if the Spirit [of God] could come into me, then I could live a life like His.”

Children may think I’m the Pope, but I’m smart enough to know I’m not even close. However, I desire to be so closely associated with and identified with Jesus that I begin to resemble Him. This transforming work is accomplished through the Spirit of God living within, and the fruit of this work is “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” Therefore, we must invite God’s Holy Spirit to take up residence in our soul, in our entire being, so that we may be as He is.

If you want to play God, bring peace. If you want to play God, remain faithful. If you want to play God, show kindness. In this way, you will not only be associated with and identified with the Lord, but you will also become like the Lord.

Let us pray (by St. Augustine): Breathe into me, Holy Spirit, that my thoughts may all be holy. Move in me, Holy Spirit, that my work, too, may be holy. Attract my heart, Holy Spirit, that I may love only what is holy. Strengthen me, Holy Spirit, that I may defend all that is holy. Protect me, Holy Spirit, that I may always be holy. Amen.

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Sermon: Trinity Sunday RCL C – “Listening”

The story is told of Franklin Roosevelt, who often endured long receiving lines at the White House. He complained that no one truly paid any attention to what was said. One day, during a reception, he decided to conduct an experiment. To each person who passed by and shook his hand, he murmured, “I murdered my grandmother this morning.” The guests responded with phrases like, “Marvelous! Keep up the good work. We are proud of you. God bless you, sir.” It was not until the end of the line, while greeting the ambassador from Bolivia, that his words were actually heard. Nonplussed, the ambassador leaned over and whispered, “I’m sure she had it coming.”

A recent article stated that 96% of people believe they are good listeners. The article also stated, “The bad news is that there’s a massive disconnect between the confidence in our listening and our actual abilities.” 

There are several reasons for this: we are more interested in what we will say than in listening to what the other person is actually saying; we drift off—tune out because we aren’t interested, or we are more interested in something else. Another article stated, “In the act of listening, the differential between thinking and speaking rates means that our brain works with hundreds of words in addition to those that we hear, assembling thoughts other than those spoken to us. To phrase it another way, we can listen and still have some spare time for thinking.” (Source)

Your brain works much faster than a person can speak, although I have known some individuals who can put the words out there at a remarkable pace. In between the spoken words, our brain processes not only what we hear but all sorts of other information. What does this mean? How do I respond? Can this person really be this thick? Did I remember to start the dishwasher? I wonder who just texted me? Oh, heck, I’m going to be late!

There are things we need to hear, but there is so much more information coming at us. “Scientists have measured the amount of data that enter the brain and found that an average person living today processes as much as 74 GB in information a day (that is as much as watching 16 movies), through TV, computers, cell phones, tablets, billboards, and many other gadgets. Every year, it’s about 5% more than the previous year. Only 500 years ago, 74 GB of information would be what a highly educated person consumed in a lifetime, through books and stories.” (Source) That was written in 2012, and if you were listening, you know that the amount of information increases by 5% a year. I’ll let you do the math as to how much information there is now, because I didn’t listen so good in math class, but it is a massive amount of information.

So, when you’re having a conversation with someone and they tell you the time and place of a particular event, and ten minutes later you can’t even remember who you were talking to, much less what the conversation was about… blame it on that 74 GB of information pouring into your head along with your own desire to speak and your general lack of attention.

“Jesus said to the disciples, ‘I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come.’” And we all respond, “I’m sorry, JC, what was that?”

The Holy Spirit of God will guide us and speak to us what He hears from Jesus and the Father. Yet, in this noisy world, how easy do you think it will be to truly hear what God is saying to His people? Perhaps if He sent His words out in an email or text message, we might take the time to read them; however, His words are communicated to us far more softly. We must learn to listen, and what is spoken will not always be displayed in flashing neon messages.

You know, I went on vacation to Japan. It was a wonderful trip, but the language barrier is real. While in Osaka, I went to the Doguyasuji Arcade, a large outdoor covered mall filled with hundreds of small and large restaurants. It is also wall-to-wall people, mostly teenagers. At the time of day or the day I visited, I was very much in the minority, and I was surrounded by all these young, energetic Japanese teens, who were all speaking Japanese. In addition, all the signs were in Japanese, and even Google Maps was messing up and showing everything in Japanese, leaving this particular older Caucasian a bit lost. However, as I walked along, there was one thing I briefly heard—two people walking in the opposite direction speaking English. In the midst of that cacophony of noise, language, lights, signs, and information, I could isolate one soft voice that I could hear and understand.

When I lived in Montana, I had some friends who owned a small ranch that was located down in a narrow valley. They kept about seventy cattle, and the second quarter of each year was calving season. One year, they wanted to take a week away and asked if I would watch the ranch. No problem. I had done it before and enjoyed it. Only a few mommas hadn’t calved, and they weren’t expected to that week while I was on duty. To keep me company, other than the cows, there was Bear. Bear was a great big ol’ fluffy mixed-breed of a dog, and Bear never barked—never—unless he spotted a coyote.

One evening, it is about nine o’clock, I’m sitting inside watching TV. I start to hear a dog barking, but I live in town and am accustomed to hearing dogs bark. For probably fifteen minutes, I didn’t think much of it. Dogs are always barking, but then it clicked. I jumped up and ran, stopping only long enough to grab a shotgun on my way out the door. One of the mommas had calved, the coyotes had smelled it and came down into the valley, and Bear, who never barked, was raising a fuss. I was so accustomed to hearing barking dogs that I had almost become deaf to one when it really mattered.

One more story, also from adventures in Japan. Japan is an incredibly clean country. Truly. There is literally no garbage on the streets and no graffiti on the buildings. Shopkeepers are out every day, sweeping up leaves and any other debris. Cement trucks, eighteen-wheelers, and dump trucks—all of them, even though in use, look like they just drove off the showroom floor, spotless and shiny. Additionally, Japan is as safe as it is clean; the crime rate is almost non-existent. 

I’m in Tokyo, and I’ve no idea where I am, but I’m safe and I’m exploring. I turn onto one street and then another. There are a lot fewer people. I see someone sitting on a curb, drinking from a bottle. That was very unusual. Next, for the only time I’m in Japan, someone approaches me and offers to sell me drugs. Wow, I think, this is so weird. I look down, and it strikes me, there’s garbage on the street. It is exceptionally rare and quite small, but I have managed to find the bad side of Tokyo. If I had been paying a little closer attention, I would have picked up on these subtle changes long before I ended up where I shouldn’t have been.

You know how a dog will cock its head when it’s listening, trying to understand and hear more clearly? That should be us as we practice listening to the Holy Spirit. Listening in this way implies a sense of bending or leaning our body or mind toward a source. Since the Holy Spirit isn’t providing God’s word to us through neon signs, we must learn to isolate the Spirit’s voice from the cacophony of voices that surrounds us, knowing that the Spirit’s voice is the voice of truth. We must not become so accustomed to listening to all the other voices and the incessant flow of information that we grow deaf to the voice of the Spirit, ignoring it when it truly matters. We must also open our eyes, paying attention to the subtle changes around us and acknowledging that these changes may very well be the Spirit’s voice warning us of potential dangers. 

In these and many other ways, God speaks His truth to us, speaks His word to us, and guides and teaches us. We may get by with truly hearing only 50% of what other people may say to us, but we can ill afford to listen to only 50% of what God tells us.

When the Lord wanted to speak to the young Prophet Samuel, Eli the priest instructed the boy to say, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” This must be our prayer as well: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening—listening in all the many ways You may speak to Your people—so that I may grow in Your ways, know Your truth, and follow where You lead.”

Let us pray:
Come, Holy Spirit, Creator blest,
and in our souls take up Thy rest;
come with Thy grace and heavenly aid
to fill the hearts which Thou hast made.
O comforter, to Thee we cry,
O heavenly gift of God Most High,
O fount of life and fire of love,
and sweet anointing from above.
Amen.

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Sermon: Lent 3 RCL B – “Filled”

Photo by Yasin Arıbuğa on Unsplash

The Marble Faun was written by Nathaniel Hawthorne and published in 1860. The setting is Rome, and Hawthorne did such a remarkable job of describing locations in the city that it became somewhat of a travel guide. One of those settings is the catacombs below the city, where we hear of the legend of Memmius.

Hawthorne writes, “This man, or demon, or man-demon, was a spy during the persecutions of the early Christians, probably under the Emperor Diocletian, and penetrated into the catacomb of St. Calixtus, with the malignant purpose of tracing out the hiding-places of the refugees. But, while he stole craftily through those dark corridors, he chanced to come upon a little chapel, where tapers were burning before an altar and a crucifix, and a priest was in the performance of his sacred office. By divine indulgence, there was a single moment’s grace allowed to Memmius, during which, had he been capable of Christian faith and love, he might have knelt before the cross, and received the holy light into his soul, and so have been blest forever. But he resisted the sacred impulse. As soon, therefore, as that one moment had glided by, the light of the consecrated tapers, which represent all truth, bewildered the wretched man with everlasting error, and the blessed cross itself was stamped as a seal upon his heart, so that it should never open to receive conviction.

“Thenceforth, this heathen Memmius has haunted the wide and dreary precincts of the catacomb, seeking, as some say, to beguile new victims into his own misery” or, even better, seeks to find someone to take him by the hand and lead him from the darkness into the light, knowing that he will eventually turn on them and bring new kinds of misery on the world.

Jesus said, “When an impure spirit comes out of a person, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it.  Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.’ When it arrives, it finds the house unoccupied, swept clean and put in order.  Then it goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that person is worse than the first.” (Matthew 12:43-45)

Memmius had within him a spirit of persecution. When he saw the light of the candles and the celebration of the Holy Mass, that spirit was driven from him, and he was given the opportunity to repent and believe.  However, instead of believing, he hardened his heart, and that spirit of persecution returned more powerful than before and forever sealed Memmius’ fate.

It is true what the Prophet Isaiah says, “Yet you, LORD, are our Father.  We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.”  God forms us as a potter forms a pot from a lump of clay. He forms us each to His likings to serve His purpose, and like any pot that a potter forms, there is within us an empty place that is to be filled.  That place within you is the Temple of the Lord. You are the Temple of the Lord.

Consider our Gospel reading. Jesus went to the temple in Jerusalem with his disciples, where he encountered the money changers and sellers of sacrifices. Emanating from them was this overwhelming physical and spiritual stench that sent Jesus into a holy riot, so he drove them all out with the whip he made. Seeing this, the Jews became incensed and asked, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” They were asking, by whose authority are you doing these things? Why would they care? Because money changing and the selling of sacrifices is big business. I don’t know if it is still true or not, but they used to say that movie theaters didn’t make their money on showing movies; instead, they made their money on all the concessions sold. The same principle is applied here. The religious leaders made some money on folks coming to the Temple, but the shekels rolled in when it came to changing money and selling sacrifices. So they asked, by whose authority are you disrupting our business?  Give us a sign that you are allowed. Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” The religious leaders, thinking He was speaking of the building, said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?” But we know that Jesus was talking about the Temple of His body.

Remember what St. Paul said in his letter to the Corinthians,  “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20)

There is within us this place, this temple, that must be filled. However, there is a gift that God has given to us all—free will. Free will means you are free to choose how and with what to fill that temple that is within you. You may choose, like Memmius, to fill it with those things that are in opposition or contrary to God, or you may choose to fill it with the things of God. The choice is yours, and so are the consequences.

Will this filling happen all at once? No. For good or ill, it is a process.  There will be days of success and days of failure, but the hope is we will keep moving forward. Blessed Teresa of Calcutta said, “God has not called me to be successful. He called me to be faithful.” We may not always be successful in our attempts at filling this temple of ours with the holy, but we must be faithful and persevere, returning time and time again to the Throne of God, repenting and seeking His grace and mercy.

One day, speaking to a large audience, the great preacher D.L. Moody held up a glass and asked, “How can I get the air out of this glass?” One man shouted, “Suck it out with a pump!” Moody replied, “That would create a vacuum and shatter the glass.” After numerous other suggestions, Moody smiled, picked up a pitcher of water, and filled the glass. “There,” he said, “all the air is now removed.” He then went on to explain that victory in the Christian life is not accomplished by “sucking out a sin here and there,” but by being filled with the Holy Spirit, and each day, we can be filled a little more.  

My friend, St. Josemaría Escrivá, writes, “Get to know the Holy Spirit, the Great Unknown, the one who has to sanctify you. Don’t forget that you are a temple of God. The Paraclete—the Holy Spirit—is in the center of your soul: listen to him, and follow his inspirations with docility.”

When Jesus was led into the wilderness after his baptism, we are told that he fasted for forty days, then the devil came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread,” but Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’” Our bodies need food, but the Temple of God within us needs spiritual food; it needs the filling of the Holy Spirit and the Blessed Sacrament of the altar. 

Give no room to those spirits like Memmius who seek to fill you and drive you from God. Instead, persevere in your strides towards holiness and fill the temple that is you with the Holy Spirit; be filled with God. 

Let us pray: (this is a prayer written by St. Augustine of Hippo) Breathe into us, Holy Spirit, that our thoughts may all be holy. Move in us, Holy Spirit, that our work, too, may be holy. Attract our hearts, Holy Spirit, that we may love only what is holy. Strengthen us, Holy Spirit, that we may defend all that is holy. Protect us, Holy Spirit, that we may always be holy. Amen.

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Sermon: Easter 6 RCL A – “Holy Spirit”

During an Episcopal worship service, a man began to be moved by the Spirit.

Out loud, he said, “Amen!” People around him were a little disturbed.

Then louder, he said, “Hallelujah!” A few more people were becoming disturbed.

Louder still, he shouted, “Praise Jesus!”

An usher moved quickly down the aisle. He bent over and whispered to the man, “Sir! Control yourself!”

The man exclaimed, “I can’t help it. I got religion!!!”

To which the usher responded, “Well, you didn’t get it here!”

I shared with the last Confirmation class, and I believe that I’ve shared it here, that while in seminary, I wrote a paper on the work De Trinitate by Richard of St. Victor. De Trinitate—On the Trinity—is Richard’s understanding of the Holy Trinity and the necessity of the three Persons of the Trinity, and how their relationship is based in love. I pulled out that paper this week, and one of the sentences I wrote is this: “Even though the Supreme Being ‘is the source of all existence,’ the Supreme Being and the condignus are of equal essence, as seen in the above discussion on the procession of the condignus from the Supreme Being and in the Quicunque; therefore the condilectus must proceed from both the Supreme Being and the condignus.” I said to myself, “Self, that right there will preach.” Maybe not, but it got me thinking about the condilectus, that is, the Holy Spirit—the Advocate that Jesus spoke of in our Gospel reading. What is important to note is that much of what we’ve been hearing these weeks since Easter Sunday has been pointing to this giving of the Spirit because this coming Thursday is the Ascension—Jesus leaving us—but before we go forward, let’s go back and look at the bigger picture.

On Good Friday, the Lord was crucified. On Easter Sunday, He rose from the dead. On the following two Sundays, we had the accounts of witnesses to the Resurrection. First, Jesus appeared to many of the disciples in a locked room. As you may recall, Thomas wasn’t there, and he doubted the others, so Jesus appeared again, and Thomas believed, giving us that first creedal statement, “My Lord and my God.”

The following Sunday, we heard about the appearance of Jesus to Cleopas and one other while they were on the road to Emmaus. They did not recognize Him until late in the day in the breaking of bread, but after He was made known to them, those two returned to the fellowship of the apostles and proclaimed the Lord’s resurrection.

The following two Sundays took us to a time before the crucifixion. These teachings were placed as a reminder of who the resurrected Lord truly is. In the first, Jesus said, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep.” In that, we understand that in Jesus, there is rest and safety. And then, last Sunday, Diane shared with us the message of Jesus going to prepare a place for us and how He is The Way. Speaking of that Gospel, Diane said, “Jesus is keenly aware of the limited time that he has remaining; and because of his great love for these very dear followers, his friends, he desperately wants to leave them with both comfort and instruction for his way to the Father, the true way, the way that leads to life.” 

All this tells us that Jesus died and rose again, there were many witnesses to these events, and He is the way to eternal life with God, yet, in one of the last verses of the Gospel reading from last week, Jesus says something alarming, “I am going to the Father.” Jesus is the way to eternal life, but he is leaving. The questions then rush out, ‘If He is leaving, how will we know the way that leads to Him? How will we know the Truth? How will we have this Life He has promised?’ All these, but then today, Jesus reassures us, “I will not leave you orphaned.” I will send another who will guide you into all truth. The condilectus. The Advocate. The Holy Spirit. A Spirit that will not just be available to a select few but to all. The Spirit guides us to the Father, that leads us into all truth; through this same Spirit, we receive life. So, who is this Holy Spirit?

When you think of Jesus, I’m sure some image of what he looks like comes to mind. Even when you think of the Father, even though He is without time or space, our human minds imagine what He might look like. Yet, with the Spirit—this gift from God—there is no physical focus other than the dove, which is for lack of any other means of identifying him. The best way to understand it is by understanding the Hebrew word rouah, which we spoke of recently—the wind, spirit, or the breath of God. Just as you cannot see the wind, you can only witness its effects; the same is true with the Holy Spirit of God. You cannot see it, but you can see its effect as it works in the world and individuals.

In our reading today, Jesus says He will send this Spirit, the Advocate. Advocate is a translation of the Greek word paraklētos. It can also be translated as counselor, helper, intercessor, or comforter, which helps us further understand the role of the Holy Spirit—one who comes alongside us to help us. But it is also important to note that Jesus says he will send “another Advocate.” Who is the first? St. John tells us in his first epistle, “We have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.” (1 John 2:1) Jesus is telling us that He is sending not just a spirit, but His Spirit to be with us. 

Jesus said, “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine; therefore I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.” (John 16:13-15)

Moses spoke to the Israelites and said, “Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6) Jesus said, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20b) God said, I will not leave you alone or abandon you. Jesus said, I am with you through it all until the last day. And this is made possible through the giving of God’s own Spirit to us. 

Jesus will ascend into Heaven to be seated at the right hand of the Father, but he does not leave us orphaned. Instead, we are adopted—made one with Jesus and one with the Father. And we are given this Spirit so that—as we say in our Eucharistic Prayer D—so “that we might live no longer for ourselves, but for him who died and rose for us, he sent the Holy Spirit, his own first gift for those who believe, to complete his work in the world, and to bring to fulfillment the sanctification of all.” We are drawn into full communion with the Triune God as daughters and sons and are commissioned to continue God’s work of love in the world.

Somebody needs to get some religion and say, “Amen!”

One last piece. St. John records a message for each of the seven churches at the beginning of the Book of Revelation. Each church is given a different message, but one part of the message is the same for all. It comes at or near the end of the message: “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” That is not only a word for the church, but it is a word for us individually. “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says.” We are given the Spirit of God so that we may know the way to God, so that we may know the truth of God, so that we might have life through God, and so that we might complete God’s work in the world, but in order to have these things, we must shut up and listen.

Take time to be quiet, to be at rest, to seek the presence of God, and then listen and hear what the Spirit is saying to you. I make no promises that you will like what you hear, but it will be God’s message to you.

Let us pray:
Breathe into me, Holy Spirit, that my thoughts may all be holy.
Move in me, Holy Spirit, that my work, too, may be holy.
Attract my heart, Holy Spirit, that I may love only what is holy.
Strengthen me, Holy Spirit, that I may defend all that is holy.
Protect me, Holy Spirit, that I may always be holy.
Amen.

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