Sunday, May 20, 2018

Pentecost 2018

John 14: 15-16, 23b-26
I've known a lot of permanent deacons. Most of us have one thing in common. There was a time when we heard a little nagging voice telling us to look into being a deacon, and we ignored it – sometimes for a very long time, before finally giving in. I first thought about it when I took care of a man whose son was one of the first deacons ordained in our diocese. I was busy with my medical career and pushed the idea down into my subconscious. It kept popping up. Several years went by and my life became busier. I had six kids and was running a department at Baystate Medical Center. I also was seeing a full load of patients, and trying to expand our department's efforts into Greenfield and Ware. In this, perhaps the busiest part of my life so far, I finally gave in to the pressure. The Holy Spirit was pushing me in a direction I didn't want to go. If you want a nice quiet life, don't listen to the Holy Spirit!
So it's that one day of every year that we turn our attention to the Holy Spirit. And we will be happy next Sunday when we can get back to God as Trinity, and then Jesus as our food and drink, and then march through the year contemplating the life of Jesus. We can handle that. But the Holy Spirit is kind of scary. It seems that if we let him get too close, he does things to us; he makes us go where we don't want to go. I don't think Jesus wanted to be driven into the desert at the beginning of his ministry – but that's exactly what the Holy Spirit did. . I'm not sure the Blessed Mother wanted to be an unwed mother in a small town where people were always looking for someone to talk about, but the Holy Spirit didn't ask. The angel said, “He will overshadow you”. We see a lot of examples in the Acts of the Apostles when the Holy Spirit pushed the followers of Jesus around, making them defy the leaders of the Jews, making them disrupt the peace all over the empire. They knew that if they followed the promptings of the Spirit, it might end up badly. And that is still true – if you let the Spirit in, he will probably make you go where you do not want to.
Look at our readings. If you were a frightened apostle in a locked room, and Jesus appeared in the room, you would probably be quaking in your boots. But after he comforts you, he promises to send the Holy Spirit – or as we used to call him in the olden days when I was a kid, the Holy Ghost. Somehow that isn't as reassuring as it should have been. “You're going to send us a ghost to keep us company, Lord?” And in the reading from Acts, here the apostles have been spinning their wheels wondering what they are supposed to do now? And again they are gathered in a room, when fire and wind appear, and seemingly push them into action, out into the crowds, to the very temple at the center of Israel, where they begin to preach, where foreign languages are coming out of their mouths, where most astonishingly, people are listening.
So when we really think about the Holy Spirit, one of the things he brings besides grateful coolness from the heat, as the Sequence says, is the shaking up of lives. And if you are like me, you don't want that. You want things to be predictable, you want to do God's will, of course, but on your terms; and if you hear the Spirit pushing you to do something new, something outrageous, something totally out of character, if you are like me, you say, “I need a sign, Holy Spirit! After all, maybe you are just a hallucination, maybe you are just wishful thinking.”
And sadly, if I am reasonably satisfied with the way things are, even if they aren't perfect, the unpredictability of the Spirit is if anything an annoyance. Maybe if I don't bother God, he won't bother me. Maybe if I go to church and say my prayers and stay out of serious sin, he will leave me alone and let me get on with life. If tongues of fire appeared over your heads, I'd probably call the fire department.
But sometimes I am nagged by the knowledge that things aren't the way they should be, not in my life, not in the life of my family, not in society at large; and I see that there is something, some little thing that I could do to push things in the right direction. Someone is nagging me. And that's when I wish I could remember that those apostles, who hadn't been able to get their act together out of fear, out of a desire to avoid change – remember how Peter told his brother apostles after the Resurrection, after his joy at seeing Jesus return from the dead, – Peter said, “I am going fishing”. Not only were they pushed into action, but in that very moment they were assured that God was with them. And Saint Paul, after a lifetime of being pushed around by the same Spirit, was able to say, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” Can there be any more joyful thought?
And here we sit, in our church, waiting—for God knows what. And the question is: Are we satisfied with the way things are? In our lives, in our world, in our church? If so, the Holy Spirit is very likely to leave us alone. We can safely read these lessons and say a few kind words about the Holy Spirit and be safe for another year.
But if we are aching and yearning for something more, if we look upon our lives and upon our world and upon our church with a combination of fear and hope, fearing that things won’t get better and hoping in our heart of hearts that they will, then we had best watch out. It is entirely likely that the Holy Spirit will soon burst upon us, leading us somewhere we did not know we wanted to go.