Advent 4 Eucharistic Prayer

We praise you gracious God

That since the beginning your Word created all.

You spoke to your people through the prophets.
You prepared us for your coming in the One

Jesus, who came to feed the hungry, 

who promised to come to us in your Spirit, 

and who promised at the end of time to come again.

We praise you, loving God, that you come to us now

In the Spirit of your Son

In the bread and the wine.
For, in the night before your death
You ate with your friends;

You took bread, gave thanks, broke it,

And gave it to them, saying,

“Take and eat. This is my body given for you.

Do this in remembrance of me.”
Again, after supper, he took the cup,

Gave thanks, and gave it for all to drink, saying,

“This cup is the new covenant in my blood,

Shed for you and for all people,

For the forgiveness of sins.

Do this for the remembrance of me.”
We praise you that you fill our lives with Peace

In the giving and the receiving

In the inviting and the responding

In the offering and the accepting
You come, Lord Jesus, as you did to Mary

into our minds, hearts and bodies

You come, Lord Jesus, as you did to Bethlehem 

into this dark world
You come, Lord Jesus, to shine your light 

Upon the joy and the sadness

Upon the love and the hate

Upon the courage and the fear

Upon the peace and the anger

You come, Lord Jesus, into our lives whether we are prepared or not

You come, Lord Jesus, whether we are ready or not

You come, Lord Jesus, into our imperfect, broken, wounded lives
You come, Lord Jesus, 

to restore what is broken, 

to reconcile the divided, 

to heal what is wounded,
To fulfill your Word, and

to give all people Peace.

Prayer for Reformation Sunday

We give you thanks, loving God, for  your unconditional love and grace to us and all people. Help us be moved to your heart, Christ Jesus, as our motivation, our desire, our passion for the decisions we make in our congregations. By your Holy Spirit, keep us steadfast in your Word, and continue to bless us in mission for and with others, so all may have dignity and all may live in hope. Amen

Pentecost: A tangled mess

The tangled mess that is this long, electric cord takes me time whenever I cut the grass. I stand there pulling the ends through loops and ties, slowly unravelling the serpent-like wire until it stretches straight. Each time I cut the grass. Sometimes I am impatient and frustrated. But I do it time and time again. How can I resolve this problem of a tangled cord?
Sometimes our lives may feel tangled. In truth, our youth and those teenage years often may feel quite tangled, as you sort out sometimes messy contradictions and conflicts in your life — figuring out your sexuality, clarifying your vocation, discerning what you want to do “when you grow up”, finding your place in this world, and navigating the often bumpy road of relationships and friendships.
Dear confirmands, you are entering a most complicated, challenging and exciting period of your life. And through it all, your life may sometimes feel, frankly, a tangled mess. How to even begin un-tangling it?
Today, the colours in the church are passionate, powerful, fiery red, because it is Pentecost Sunday — the birthday of the church. It is the day we commemorate the coming of the Holy Spirit upon the disciples gathered in Jerusalem, in dramatic fashion I might add: Tongues of fire alighting upon peoples’ heads, and a sound like the “rush of a violent wind” crashing around them (Acts 2:2-3). Then, when the disciples address the diverse crowd in their native languages, Peter quotes from the prophet Joel describing what is happening in these “last days” — when God will show “signs on the earth below: blood, and fire, and smoky mist. The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day” (v.19-20). Indeed, we are seeing red!
Living amidst all this drama could feel kinda tangled, messy, chaotic. But, I thought being a Christian was supposed to be all neat and tidy, ordered and predictable, comfortable and nice. The coming of the Holy Spirit into our lives suggests something altogether different! Birthdays are supposed to recall who we are, our identity. How do we even begin un-tangling meaning and purpose of our existence as a church, from this crazy picture?
I purposely did not iron my red chasuble for today’s service to remind myself that following Jesus sometimes feels ‘dis-ordered’. And, I purposely left alone two small holes in this old, Pentecost garment to remind myself of something Saint Paul gets at in the second reading for Pentecost Sunday: “the Spirit helps us in our weakness”; and, that the whole creation, including you and me “groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience” (Romans 8:22-27). 
What I often ‘see’ in my life are a lot of holes — many weaknesses. What I often see in other peoples’ lives are their weaknesses. What I often see is me trying so hard to keep my life untangled, compared to others. What I see is all my toiling and fretting and striving to make things right and straight. But, hope that is seen is not hope. If I pretend how good everything is — or ought to be — all of the time, that’s not hope. That’s just me toiling in vain pretending I will be saved by my own efforts.
You might have heard illustrations of some old cathedrals in Europe especially built with holes in the ceiling. They were built purposely so, in order to provide an ‘imperfect’ entry point for the Spirit of God to descend into the lives of the Body of Christ on earth — the church. The entry point of the Spirit of God is precisely through the imperfections, the tangled messes, of our lives — not through our vainglorious, self-righteous, pull-myself-up-by-the-bootstraps efforts. Remember, the Spirit of God helps us in our weaknesses. At ground zero. When on our knees we fall and confess, “I need help and I cannot do it on my own.”
We don’t find God by doing it right. God finds us by our doing it wrong. That’s not to say we ought to go out and try to sin. It is to say that when we find ourselves — as we all will — in moments of our greatest weakness, that’s when Grace happens, when we provide entry points through the ‘holes’ of our ego, our bravado, our pretences of ‘being right when everyone else is wrong’.
You would think that after fifteen years of home ownership and being the person who cuts the lawn in our household; and after ten years of cutting the lawn with an electric, corded, lawn-mower, I would have already figured this out and just purchased one of those roller-thingies for the cord. The strange thing is, I haven’t and after I am finished cutting, I still just crumple the cord and throw it into the garage on top of the mower.
Maybe that says something about the reality and truth of our lives. No matter how much we may grow, and mature — I would hope — over life, we are still stuck in some ways, and will still get into messes from time to time. Youth is just the beginning!
The scriptures for Pentecost are very clear that the disciples of Jesus did not ‘invoke’ the Spirit or earn God’s coming by saying and doing the right things. The Spirit came to them, freely, surprisingly and despite their weaknesses. And what is more, Saint Paul further specifies how that Spirit comes — when we do not know how to pray as we ought (v.26). Not a very impressive picture of humanity. And yet, God still has faith in us, and comes to us!
On the cross, as Jesus hung dying, he said, “It is accomplished” (John 19:30). The victory is won. In Jesus’ human suffering and death, he says this. Not on Easter Sunday, when we celebrate his resurrection. But the victory is won in the moment of God’s fullest identification with human humility, shame, vulnerability, weaknesses — at the moment of what signifies and is in reality our greatest defeat: death. There, “It is accomplished.”
Jesus, God, identifies with us in our tangled messes. In some ways — although this may not be comforting — being a teenager is the best time of our lives to know God, precisely because it is a time in our lives when we have permission to be most honest about the struggles of our identity and purpose in life. 
Even when you feel most distant from God. Even when you feel your faith is not ‘all there’, and you wonder if you have any faith in God at all. Even when you make a mistake, which you will. Being confirmed today is not a perfect ‘affirmation’ of baptism and faith you are making. And it never will!
These are the ‘holes’ so important that we acknowledge — not deny! — and we see as the entry points of the Spirit of the living God into our hearts. It is exactly at those moments of greatest vulnerability and honest weakness that Jesus walks closest to us: That was the purpose of the Cross, the accomplishment of the Cross. That in human suffering and entanglement, God’s grace and power abound. It is God who saves us. Not our work at being ‘good’ or ‘perfect’.
Traditionally during the liturgy of Pentecost, and specifically right after the reading of the Holy Gospel, the “Paschal” light is extinguished. You will recall that this candle was first lighted at the Great Vigil of Easter fifty days ago. And for each of the subsequent Sundays of Easter it has remained lighted — a sign of Christ’s living, resurrected and eternal presence.
Now it is extinguished. Would anyone suggest, why? Isn’t Jesus still alive? Where is he now? With the coming of the Holy Spirit into the church, and with Jesus ascended into heaven, the presence of God and Christ Jesus through the Holy Spirit alights in our own hearts. Through the ‘holes’ of our ego, in the imperfection of our lives, the flame of God’s Spirit washes over us in patience and in gentleness. The Spirit purifies and clarifies our hearts upon which God’s stamp still rests from our baptism. The Spirit encourages and reminds us of who we are and whose we are, forever, and no matter what.

Do we see the elephant?

You think when something happens frequently in a short period of time, perhaps I should pay attention to it? A sign? A reflection of something happening on a deeper level?
In the last couple of weeks I’ve attended a couple of administrative church meetings reviewing minutes taken at their annual meetings. One was the Christian Council of the Capital Area (CCCA) and the other was our very own monthly council meeting. And, in both cases, I sat around a large table while members studiously reviewed the draft minutes. In the silence, you could hear the crickets.
“Fine!” “Good job!” “Everything looks great!” “Thank you!” “Yup!” — the responses came rapid fire. And then — in both cases — someone caught it. “Ahh, it says at the top ‘Annual Meeting 2013’. Wrong year. Minor detail. Yet significant. It was worse at the CCCA where there were two different incorrect years on the front page highlighting different text!
I mention this not to slight our very capable secretaries, because it is the responsibility of the entire council to ensure the final copy is in order. But, I say this to emphasize how easy it is to see, but not to see. How very human it is — natural — to stare something straight in its face, and not have it register. 
In the Liquor Store the other day I was looking for Jessica’s favourite white wine from Chile. So I went to the South America section, where it always is. And I couldn’t find it! I stood there for an entire minute rubbing my chin and scanning the shelves. Finally I went to the desk somewhat frustrated. The attendant smiled and said, gently, “We have it.” I said, “No, you don’t.” He calmly led me to the exact same shelf where I stood staring at — I don’t know what. But there it was!
Psychologists might point to the need for us to be more ‘mindful’, in each and every moment of our lives. People of faith might consider how we are present to God’s presence always in our lives. There is often a disconnect, is there not, between my perception and reality? Some have called it ‘the elephant in the room’ that everyone feels is there but for whatever reason refuses to name it, address it.
The Gospel text for this last Sunday of Easter, is about Jesus’ prayer to God (John 17). It is, what liturgists call ‘intercessory prayer’ — that is the genre, or form, that this scripture takes. Prayer is the context. Jesus prays for his disciples, as they take over the mantel of responsibility for Jesus’ mission on earth, after Jesus ascends to heaven.
Since the time Jesus gave this ‘high priestly prayer’ over two thousand years ago, the church — the Body of Christ, the people of God — has continued to pray. I like that. Because no where that I can find in the Gospels does Jesus command his disciples to ‘worship’ him, to ‘praise’ him, to engage in the act of worship to which we contemporary Christians have come to narrowly define our Christian lives ‘on Sunday morning’. But Jesus does say, very often, ‘follow me’ and ‘pray’ and ‘do this in remembrance of me’ (referring to the Holy Communion), and ‘love your neighbour’.
What we are talking about here, is a lifestyle of following Jesus. And with this understanding, I believe, we can get a better handle on what Paul means when he says to “pray always” or “without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17). This phrase makes no sense if we see prayer merely as ‘asking God for things we want’ — how is it physically possible to do this? 
Prayer is not about trying to get God to change, according to our grocery list of desires and wants. Rather, when we pray what we are doing is asking God to change us. Prayer is about allowing God to change us. Always be open in your connection with God in Christ to being changed, transformed, grown in your own life into the image of God and the person God created you to be — regardless of what or for whom we are praying.
Problem is, some of us may be thinking: why would I want to change my life? There isn’t anything that needs changing. I am happy the way things are. Why would I want that? 

We may not able to be always ‘mindful’. But at least, could we not confess our sin in not hearing the voice of God calling us, not seeing and accepting the answer to prayer already right in front of our eyes?  I think it was Meister Eckhart who defined sin as simply refusing — by our actions and thoughts — to see ourselves as God sees us. What is the elephant in our room? What are we doing that is disconnected from what God is doing and what God sees in our lives?

We come to church with our pains, sufferings, hurts. But we also come to be Christ’s hands, heart and mind to those around us. We don’t come just to see ‘what’s in it for me?’ ‘What can I get out of this experience?’, like a consumer. We don’t come just to have my selfish needs, social or otherwise, met. Rather, we come to pay attention to those others who are hurting in any way.
What does God see? How are we paying attention to those in our midst with mental illness? Are we giving any time or effort of love to these people? How are we paying attention to those who come with marital or relational problems? Are we attending, with compassion, to this need at all? How are we paying attention to those who come, who are financially poor or new-comers to Canada, or students with all their complex needs? Talk about the elephant in the room when all we do when we come to church is notice the elephant poop in the corner and complain about that. Talk about the elephant in the room when all we do is talk about what colour paint we should apply to the walls of the room.
After eighteen years of pastoral ministry and leadership, one of the top-rated questions that has come my way, is: How do I know the voice of God? How do I know that it is God’s voice speaking? How is that in prayer, God communicates to us? How do we know it’s God and not just my ego?
I wonder whether it’s the elephant in the room syndrome that so much defines or characterizes church life today. Perhaps the answer is staring us in the face. And we just don’t want to see it. We don’t want to see it or confess it because we are afraid. And we are addicted. Addicted to a lifestyle that is all about consumption. Getting more. And more. And more. For me.
The Executive Director of the Mennonite Church in Canada, Rev. Dr. Willard Metzger, said during the “Justice Tour 2015” stop in Ottawa last week, that those of us who are older are addicted. And it is much harder for us in the second half of life to divest of our material addictions, compared to most young people today who will never earn the kind of pensions that, in general, retired folks today are enjoying; young people whose starting incomes will likely not increase to the same degree that was the case a generation or two ago; young people, more of whom will be working at full time jobs but barely making enough to enjoy the kinds of lifestyles most of us older people are enjoying today. Yes, we are addicted. And we don’t want to let go of this. And we don’t want to make sacrifices along these lines. Not easily, anyway.
National Bishop Susan Johnson (ELCIC) said at the same meeting that ‘the cries of the poor, this is the voice of God in our time. Are we listening?’
In v.18 of the Gospel text, Jesus’ prayed, “As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.” While Jesus also says the disciples “do not belong to the world” (v.14), this does not mean escape from the world. While we affirm values and beliefs that do not correspond with the world’s values, we are not called to abandon the world, disengage nor hide from it, however bad it is. Because, Jesus prays that his disciples “may have Christ’s joy made complete in themselves/among themselves” (v.13). The joy that Christ gives is not found in escaping the world’s reality, but on the ground, in community engaging the world with all of its distorted powers, pressures and conflict.
God’s voice calls us into the world, not away from it. At the same time, God does answer our prayers, in a sense, because God already knows what we need (Matthew 6:7). And it’s a consistent answer, that we will read and hear about more in the coming season of Pentecost. God’s answer is the gift of the Holy Spirit (Luke 11:13). And the Holy Spirit is all about power. So, God’s answer to all our praying, is the power of God to do what is right, even if it means a sacrifice of part, or all, of our lifestyle and our privilege. God gives power more than answers (1) to change ourselves for the better, and for the sake of the world that God so loves (John 3:16).
May we be faithful in listening to God’s voice, and responding in the power of the Holy Spirit, God’s answer to prayer. We’ve prayed, in this morning’s service. Now, we are called to follow Jesus into our lives, away from this place.
(1) read especially chapter seven in Richard Rohr’s, “Breathing Under Water”

Forgive = Love

To forgive someone, is to love them. We cannot forgive someone who has hurt us, without first being able to love them. So, the question of how we can forgive is deeply connected to the question of the quality of, and our capacity to, love.

In the Gospel chosen for this Pentecost Sunday (John 20:19-23) Jesus meets the disciples to give them the holy breath — the Holy Spirit. His breathing on them gives them the authority to pronounce the forgiveness of sin.

But before he does this, he first says to them, “Peace be with you” — not once, but twice, in this short passage. The repetition of his greeting ought to make us pause, and reflect on what Jesus is doing here by repeating his opening statement to the disciples.

Let’s recall the story leading up to this passage: It is one of the first post-resurrection accounts of Jesus appearing to his disciples. The disciples are hiding behind locked doors, fearing arrest by the same people who had just executed their Lord on the cross. They had just heard an unbelievable account of an empty tomb, and were not sure what to make of it. Judas was gone from the group, and Peter was still reeling from guilt in having denied knowing Jesus.

Many of the twelve must have felt incredible guilt from having abandoned Jesus during his torture and death. And suddenly, now, Jesus comes into their midst through a locked door. Quite probably, their initial reaction would have been of fear — perhaps Jesus was coming back to exact retribution and punishment on his unfaithful, denying and fickle followers. “Where were you when I needed you?” “Shame on you!” you could imagine what the disciples may have expected Jesus to say.

Is this not how we often feel? Our first reaction to any notion of relationship with God is riddled with guilt and fear. Because we are so unfaithful, so weak. We make mistakes, over and over. We fail in our discipleship, and in our relationships. We are not committed and we often do all the wrong sorts of things. No wonder the church is in such a mess! So, if Jesus would appear walking through these very doors this morning, I suspect many of us might start shaking in our boots.

I had to giggle at something someone posted in their Facebook page: It was a picture of a gigantic jelly fish. And we see this jelly fish from underneath the water, looking sideways at this rather ugly, translucent being with long entrails dangling downward from its broad bobble top.

The caption underneath reads: “The fact that jellyfish have survived since the beginning of time, despite not having brains, is great news for stupid people.” Indeed, especially when it comes to following Jesus, we are all sometimes stupid!

Jesus demonstrates God’s true nature by what he has to repeat over and over to try to get through our thick heads. “Peace be with you!” “No, didn’t you hear me? “Peace be with you!” “I come not to condemn you for your sins, but to love you as my precious children.” Jesus demonstrates the love of God. He forgives his numb-skulled disciples because underlying Jesus’ whole approach to them, and us, is an unconditional and expansive love that is not shaken by our messing up all of the time.

That is why God forgives us our sins. And that is why and how we will forgive others as God has forgiven us. Love. Unconditional. When we can retract all our expectations and claims on another person, then we can truly love them. When we stop projecting our expectations and desires upon another person, especially if they have done something to hurt us, then we are able to love them, and therefore forgive them.

I read about a reporter who was covering the conflict in Sarajevo some twenty years ago. The reporter saw a little girl shot by a sniper. He rushed to a man who was holding the child, and helped them both into his car.

As the reporter raced to the hospital the man in the back seat said: “Hurry, my friend, my child is still alive.” A little later he said, “Hurry, my friend, my child is still breathing.” Still, later, he said, “Hurry, my friend, my child is still warm.” Finally, he said, “Hurry, hurry. Oh, God, my child is getting cold.”

When they got to the hospital, the little girl was dead. The man who had been holding the child then said to the reporter, “There lies a terrible task before me now. I must now go and tell her father that his child is dead. He will be heartbroken.”

The reporter was puzzled and responded, “I thought she was your child.” The man looked at him and said, “No. But aren’t they all our children?”

They are all our children. They are all God’s children. Christ sends us forth with the power of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost to love them all. We are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers. Our capacity to love others — especially those different from us — will often determine our capacity to forgive. The people of the world are God’s loving creation, too. Our practice of showing compassion and care to all people reflects our capacity to love.

Can we do this? Can we bear faithful witness to God’s love and presence in our lives? Maybe not, if left to our own devices. But try we must. Fail, we often will. But don’t give up. Because Jesus will still come into our lives with an unconditional embrace of God’s love for you and for me. We have nothing to lose — certainly not God’s love.

And because of this great gift we have, Jesus will continue to say to us, “As the Father has sent me, so now, I send you.”

Come, Holy Spirit, come
Breathe into us the breath of new life,
Come with a mighty wind or on a soft breeze, and
Kindle our hearts on fire to go forth and fulfill your mission on earth.
Come, Holy Spirit, come.

Politics and church unity

At one point during this provincial election campaign, I believe I saw some lawn signs for local candidates stuck in the ground in front of the church. And I must confess, at first, it didn’t sit right with me!

Indeed, should religion and politics mix? If someone asks you, “Should Christians be involved in politics?” “Should politics be preached from the pulpit?” What would you say?

I guess I’m the product of an age when it was taught that religion and politics don’t mix. My reaction, I guess, is based in the constitutional value of separating church and state; that is, the leader of the church should not simultaneously be the leader of government, right?

But does that mean Christians shouldn’t be involved at all in politics? The reason I question this is because God is interested in every detail of our lives. God is interested in what happens not only in church on Sunday morning but what happens in our lives from Monday through Saturday as well.

But not only is God interested in all aspects of our lives — including our political activity on an individual basis — God comes to us in community. You will notice in the readings over the next few weeks as we celebrate the Day of Pentecost and coming of the Holy Spirit that only when the disciples are together does the Holy Spirit descend upon them.

My neighbour told me this week that he found refuge in the words of a tour guide in a cathedral in Italy he recently visited. When his tour group asked the guide whether he was Protestant or Catholic, the guide said, “It doesn’t matter whether I am Protestant or Catholic; that’s just politics!” He practically spat out that word: politics!

It seems there is a growing appreciation that what is most important is not the label we wear — whether Protestant or Catholic — but what is the meaning of it all, and the unity we already share in Jesus Christ. And that is good!

At the same time, there is still something there that begs us to respect boundaries, respect our differences and not just white-wash them away. On the one hand, is respecting our differences; on the other hand, acknowledging – yes, even — celebrating our unity. The two tensions must be held.

I was always taught in school that there are no bad questions, only bad answers. I suppose this was told to young people especially to encourage us to be inquisitive and explore the meaning of things. What better way than to ask questions.

It would be a mistake for teachers to reprove anyone for asking a bad question; this would be seen as shutting someone down and discouraging them from thinking for or being themselves. Moreover, especially for grown-ups, we would take it as a criticism of our intelligence. And, normally we do not take too well to criticism, do we? Especially in front of others.

In the first chapter of Acts which describes the Ascension of Jesus, Jesus and the two heavenly beings appear to commit a pastoral care faux-pas, precisely when you would think the disciples needed some comfort and encouragement in anticipation of Jesus’ departure from them.

If we examine the dialogue in this biblical text (v. 6-14), we will see that first Jesus, then the two angels, reprove the disciples. First, Jesus reprimands the disciples for asking the wrong kind of question. It is not for them to know these things — referring to the timing and events surrounding the wished-for defeat of Roman occupation of the Holy Lands. This is the liberated kingdom which was anticipated by the coming of a Messiah.

Indeed, from our vantage point, this was a terrible question. It reveals a continued misunderstanding of the whole purpose of Jesus coming to the world in the first place. It wasn’t to be a political-military leader. And these disciples, after spending three years with Jesus, still don’t get it!

We may agree with Jesus’ reproof. But imagine being one of those disciples at the receiving end of their Lord’s censure. How would you feel getting criticized in front of your peers and colleagues — again?

And then, after Jesus ascends and disappears in the clouds, two angels appear standing beside the disciples as they are gazing into the heavens. The disciples of Jesus are on the cusp of a great mission and work; they will be the hands and feet of Jesus to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8); they will be witnesses to the message of Jesus Christ. And what are the first words from the mouths of these angels? Another reproof: Why are you looking upwards? Stop day-dreaming! That’s not where it’s at! Get going. Do your job!

You know, I wonder if it were us 21st century Christians standing there on the mountain, how well we would take to being – pretty much – constantly barraged and berated with critical words from Jesus and the like. I don’t think we would take much of it, quite frankly. When the work of the church gets a little heated and stressful often one of our first reactions is to throw up our arms in frustration and say, “I don’t need this!”, “church politics!” and walk away.

How did those first disciples stick to it? How did they restrain themselves from fighting back: “You can’t talk like that to me!” Why didn’t we see more disciples quit following Jesus. Because — and I don’t mean any disrespect to our Lord, but — Jesus didn’t seem to be practising good leadership skills here by being critical of their questions. Or, perhaps, there is such a thing as a bad question….

We may do well to notice that, using Lutheran language, the “Law” here has not the last word. Recall that the ‘Law’ is anything that reminds us of our failing, of our weakness, of our sin and inability to do that which only God can do. In contrast, the “Gospel” is the good news of promise; it focuses on the action of God.

In this case, the ‘Law’ can be these words of criticism, from the lips of Jesus and the angels. But there is more, here.

We will notice what follows both these statements of reproof are also words of promise. In the first dialogue, immediately following the reprimand is Jesus promises the disciples that they will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon them. After the second question when the angels criticize the disciples for looking up into the heavens, comes the promise that Jesus will return one day.

Words of promise and hope, comfort and empowerment. And maybe, just maybe, because of this good news of hope, the disciples didn’t abandon their community, they stuck to it, they believed the promise, they expected great things from God.

But they were able to see that the power given would only be realized in the community, not apart from it. They had to get over themselves; they had to get past their own, individual, pride, and embrace the bigger picture of God’s vision. They had to understand that being in community didn’t mean, on the one hand a bland, idealistic masking of all differences between them; and, on the other hand, quitting the community whenever anyone didn’t get their way.

When the disciples returned to Jerusalem, they waited in the upper room, together. And while they waited for the day of Pentecost to come, they prayed together. In prayer, then, they experienced a real connection with the living Lord. They remained united, in the prayer of Jesus now re-united with his Father. And what a great reunion that must have been: Imagine, since the birth of Jesus, God the Father had been separated from his Son. And now, at the ascension of Jesus, Father and Son are reunited once again.

This is the foundation of prayer — this unity between Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The disciples praying together in the upper room must have sensed this real connection with God by waiting for God’s action, and paying attention to the movement of the Holy Spirit, together. They must have finally realized tat their discipleship wasn’t about themselves, individually; it was about something much greater than them.

They had a real sense of the community, that they were part of the body of Christ. The meaning of religion is to be in communion and in unity with God. As followers of Christ, this unity is realized in the Body of Christ, the church on earth. Christian unity is a profound witness to the power of God in the world today. Especially today, when sadly structural fragmentation and division describes the church more than anything else.

The Holy Spirit still blows today among people of Faith. The church continues to be re-formed and renewed. It is a work that is experienced corporately, not individually. Author of the book, “Introducing the Missional Church” (Baker Books, Michigan, 2009), Alan Roxburgh, writes: “We are being formed as the people of God, not simply individuals using God for some process of self-development in the midst of trying times” (p.158).

We are changed into God’s people, together. That doesn’t mean we are conformed into like-minded robots marching to the same tune. That also doesn’t mean we splinter into another church whenever there is a disagreement. It means we celebrate our unity within the diversity of the church.

I think if the church would have political lawn signs in front of it, there should be a lawn sign from every political party campaigning in this election. Because that would say some very important things about the identity of the church: First, we take seriously our calling, as Christians, to be concerned and involved in the well-being of the wider community; that is to say, we are interested in what goes on in the world, and therefore we vote and are politically active. We are interested because God is interested in every aspect of our lives, not just what happens here on Sunday mornings.

Second, the church is much more than political divisions, because sitting in this room are people representing the vast array of political orientations anyway. We are not here because we share the same political mind-set but because what unities us is greater than what divides us.

And finally, what holds us together is not that we agree on everything, but that God loves us all despite our differences. This is the basis of our unity in Christ, a unity for which Christ prayed (John 17:11):

Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one. Amen.

On the journey – Now

This final, inner circle is the purview of the Holy Spirit. Always centering us in the moment, the Holy Spirit brings us to the awareness that God is not just something of historical inquiry, and not just some program for success.

God in the Holy Spirit squares us with the reality of our lives that we face right now. In this very moment, the God we confess and the God we worship is doing something around you and in the world. And God is acting whether we’re tracking or not. The Holy Spirit blows despite us.

So, whether we’re naughty or nice, even in our imperfections and weaknesses — indeed through our limitations and brokenness (thank you Jesus!) the Holy Spirit blows, especially hard.

This is the function of God’s grace. To recognize God’s activity and presence right now in the mundane, ordinary and common aspects of our lives.

In this realization and awareness, then, the ‘now’ and the ‘wow’ are aligned properly. Because God is with us now in the Holy Spirit, it is God’s work that makes all good things happen — in Jesus we don’t have to make it happen. And because Jesus takes care of the ‘how’ we can truly celebrate and give thanks for the ‘wow’. Our worship, our dreams, our imagination, our joy — these are consequences not of our private, narcissistic projections. Our ‘wow’ and ‘how’ are expressions of an authentic appreciation of the creative act of God not only in our regular daily lives, but in the wider community.

Is the dream possible? Keep the ‘wow’, the ‘how’ and the ‘now’ properly aligned in God’s love, God’s work and God’s grace. And see the dream come true!

On the journey – How

This is the tricky one. Especially for us goal-oriented, success-hungry, ambitious types. For us who, almost compulsively, dive into our work. For those of us who first ask when a new idea is presented: “How will this work?”

And so we draw the second circle of our ‘trinity’ of circles. This one just on the inside of the larger ‘wow’. From the ‘wow’ we move to the ‘how’. The exuberance of youth must at some point translate into a work-able, do-able, achievable proposition. Somehow, the dream needs to have traction on the ground. We have to do something in order to make it happen. This, is the ‘how’ part of life.

But, as I said, this is the tricky stage. Because for so long we have convinced ourselves into believing that if anything good is to come in our lives, it’s because we’ve accomplished it or deserved it or earned it by our hard work.

To a degree, there is some truth here. We make decisions to the best of our judgment, hoping that we exercise discernment and wisdom. We work hard with good intentions. We are motivated to create a better society, and we act on it.

But more and more people are discovering that just because they work very hard at something, doesn’t necessarily mean they will succeed. More and more people are discovering this harsh reality on the journey of life and faith. Just because you sweat blood, sweat and tears in pursuing some ‘wow’ goal in life, doesn’t necessarily mean you will achieve it. What then?

Should we give up? Should we sit idly by and not do anything, resigned to fate? Like I said, this ‘how’ thing is tricky.

It’s also no surprise that this circle represents the second person of the Holy Trinity — Jesus. The first ‘wow’ circle was God the Father, the Creator, the beginning point. This second person of Jesus is the Saviour, the Redeemer. Jesus is the ‘how’ to journeying on the path of faith and life.

Up until this point, we may have thought that journeying in life through the ‘wows’, the ‘hows’ and the ‘nows’ was unidirectional — that it was all up to us to get it right. Jesus’ grace and presence in our lives suggests a two-way relationship. What we put into life is our approach to life and to God that says: “Thank you!” What we put into life are our efforts that don’t pretend nor presume our salvation and the salvation of the world depends on us.

Jesus won salvation for us already! He’s done the job. He’s figured out how to restore broken human relationships. Jesus offers us, and those we meet, forgiveness, grace, a new fresh start over in life — each day of our lives!

Jesus doesn’t love us because he has to; Jesus loves us because he wants to. “This frees us to simply receive that love, rather than feverishly try to make ourselves worthy of it” (p. 236, Richard Rohr, ‘On The Treshold of Transformation’).

Worth living for? Worth working for?

Together, now!

When we feel, however, that in our lives we are neither on a vacation nor able to fulfill our vocation, what then?

Perhaps we are at a loss for words. Perhaps we are so dis-spirited and dejected that we feel hopeless and without purpose and meaning. Perhaps our spirit can do nothing other than cry to God for help: ‘Abba! Father!’

Saint Paul had something to say about that: When we cry ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spiritbearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God … (Romans 8:16)

The very fact that we turn our selves to face God, the very fact that we think about God – good or bad thoughts! – the very fact that we lift our hearts to God even in pain and suffering, is God’s Spirit touching ours. We are indeed ‘children of God’ before we do anything remarkable, life-changing or effective. We are already given our inheritance before we can earn it or prove somehow we are worthy of it, before we are rid of all that ails us.

One salient fact in the Pentecost story from the Bible stands out – right at the beginning: When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place …(Acts 2:1)

Normally when we read or hear this text, we hurriedly breeze through this first verse to get to the sensational parts of the wind blowing through the place and the tongues of fire appearing on the disciples’ heads. We so readily go to what stimulates and excites us, don’t we?

Yet there is a gentle, subtle truth here, which also reveals the Holy Spirit’s action in our lives: We cannot do it alone.

Sometimes we seek renewal in nature, in solitude, by ourselves, secluded, isolated – in nature, on a vacation. And we feel God’s presence. We say, “the spirit of God is here.” Maybe so.

But Lutherans and Christians in general, I believe, would affirm that the Holy Spirit’s power is not primarily individualistic. The Holy Spirit, based on the biblical witness on the Day of Pentecost, comes to those gathered ‘together in one place.’

The only way we can truly and effectively live out our vocation, is to be with others, engage the world around us, and do it together.

Apart from the ever-expanding community of faith, the Christian Gospel cannot be effectively witnessed and proclaimed. Apart from the community of faith, you and I may do good works and be good citizens. Apart from the community of faith, we may find comfort and solace in distractions and the seductions of our materialistic culture.

But, if you want to see true, spiritual power and healing in your life and those around you – let’s do it together, and watch God’s Spirit change the world!

Even on a vacation, let’s live out our vocation – together!