THE UNFOLDING STORY
Acts 5:27-32, John 20:19-31
Most mornings I am usually listening to the Today Show when I am getting ready to go to work. Friday, March 31st was no exception. What caught my attention that morning was the title of a book, Yearnings: Embracing the Messy Sacredness of Life. Now, I don't know what this book is about, it was the title of the book that intrigued me.
The messy sacredness of life, the text today from the gospel of John speaks to that--the messy sacredness of life. This story from John is set on the evening of the day of resurrection. We encounter the disciples bewildered, confused and uncertain about the news, which has been told to them by Mary that morning. They have gathered behind a locked door in that room that is filled with fear, with doors and windows shut tight. In that setting, the risen Jesus appears. In the beginning, his appearing simply adds to their fear and increases their confusion. Johns recording of what transpired in that room is brief and straight to the point: "Jesus breathed on them" and then he said, "Receive the Holy Spirit." The gift of the Holy Spirit is something that we have come to associate with the experience of "Pentecost." But this image in John's gospel is different from that experience in the more familiar story in the second chapter of Acts. In John's version, the Holy Spirit is presented to a unique group of people who by that spirit will be enabled and empowered to share the gift with others.
"He breathed on them!" The breath of Christ becomes the wind of the Spirit. The energy and warmth of the very being of Christ is the fire of the Spirit. Those frightened disciples, struggling with fear and grief are given by God, the saving breath of life.
It is the same breath that moved over the storms of chaos, and brought order to creation. Now, on this night, it is the same breath, which moves over the disciples, huddling in a room of uncertainty, and transforms them into the dynamic servants we call the church.
This gift is like a breath of fresh air. The room that night, located on some forgotten alley of Jerusalem was heavy with stale air. The doors were shut and locked. The room was heavy with the mood of sorrow and grief. That handful of would-be disciples were probably fearing for their own lives; fearing the worst (that the body of Jesus probably was stolen!); fearing the best (what if Jesus is alive!); fearing the future, without the presence of their Teacher.
Jesus says, "Receive the Holy Spirit!" It is a gift which will be like a breath of fresh air to a stale world. In that gift, the disciples discover that their fear is replaced with joy, their shyness is replaced with boldness, their hesitation is replaced with courage, and their sense of loss is replaced with a sense of purpose.
As the recipients of this gift, those disciples walked out of that room, and into the world as a church: formed and reformed out of chaos and uncertainty by the breath of Christ; and invigorated for the task that awaited. The disciples' task was to be about the work of forgiveness, the ministry of reconciliation and grace. They, and now we, are to bring that fresh life-giving Spirit to a world which continues to shut its doors in fear. We are empowered to breathe new life into a stale world that yearns to breathe free.
After the death and resurrection of Jesus, the disciples expected something to happen. Yet they were confronted with the messiness of life and did what so many of us do when we are weighed down by despair, they retreated to the safety of a home where they could close and bar the door. They probably figured they would hide out for awhile, wait out the danger, and then when the uproar over Jesus had passed they would slip out of Jerusalem and back to their old lives. They probably figured that once the crisis was over, they could go back to the way things used to be.
If the risen Christ had not appeared to these frightened disciples behind those closed doors and calmed their fearful hearts, you have to wonder what would have happened to the disciples. They were disillusioned and doubting. They were still stunned by the events of the preceding days. The last thing they expected was that this would be the day that they would begin to understand the sacredness in their messy lives.
There they were with doors locked in fear, when Christ suddenly came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you!" And he showed them his hands and side. He wanted them to know it was really him. John tells us that "the disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord." Christ said a second time, "Peace be with you!" Then he added these important words, "As the Father had sent me, I am sending you." And with that he breathed on them and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit...."
They would need to depend on the Holy Spirit; it can be a messy world out there. Jesus knew this would not be easy for the disciples. There would be days when they would face unbelievable hardship and deprivation. Without the assurance of Christ's Holy Spirit they would not make it. And that's true for us as well. We believe in Christ. Each year, just as we did last week, we have this grand celebration of Christ's resurrection, and yet still we live such timid, tentative lives. If we could only trust our lives to God, if we could truly believe that our lives are in Gods hands then there is no limit to what God might be able to do for us and through us.
Look what it did to the disciples. They went from being fearful to being some of the most daring people who have ever walked this earth. Ridicule could not deter them, or torture or the threat of death. Their fear turned to trusting, their sorrow was replaced by faith.
If we could only trust our lives to God. Trust God to guide us through all the messiness of life, to help us see the sacred in the sometimes-endless confusion we find our lives to be. Trusting God to guide us, think of how we could become more loving, more daring, more dramatic in how we live our lives of faith?
As I contemplate this messy sacredness of life and my own personal need to trust Gods guidance, I easily recall time when I have realized the presence of God in my life. I have been part of a community of faith as long as I can remember. My parents carried me as a baby into Westminster Presbyterian Church in Waco, Texas where I was baptized. In first grade, I received my Bible from First Presbyterian Church, Waco. I have had that Bible for 40 years. I have read from it; memorized scripture from it; even took it to seminary and studied from it. Even though I found guidance from God in that Bible, it didn't make me feel that I belonged to the church. I knew I belonged and gained more insight to God because the family of faith in my home church showed me the love of God by telling me that they loved me and accepting me as a child of God.
Because of that experience, I take to heart the words in Deuteronomy 6, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates."
I am convinced that the author of these words from Deuteronomy understood that there is sacredness to be found in the ordinary, mundane and messiness of life. We are commanded to love God and everything we do should flow from that command. Everything we do in life should reflect this command to love the Lord your God. And if we where able to perfectly live out this command then it might be easy to see the sacredness in life, to receive Gods Spirit.
But it isn't easy, if it were we would not need to gather as a community of faithful people every Sunday studying Gods word and trying to discern Gods will for our lives. If it was easy we really would not need to be here, we could just live our lives following some guidelines we found on the Internet, printed out on a sheet of paper and stuck on our refrigerators. That command to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and strength isn't easy. And I don't think it is supposed to be easy.
A friend once told me this story: On my first day in seminary, we sat on folding chairs listening to orientation speakers. The Dean of the Seminary was last. Two things he said have stuck with me. "If you're wondering what you are doing here, at a theological seminary, don't worry. In a week, you will be wondering what some of your classmates are doing here." We laughed and he was right. The second thing he said was far more profound. "You may be thinking that you have come to a Christian school, but I am here to tell you that this seminary is not a Christian school." We almost fell out of those chairs. Then the Dean added, "This seminary is not a Christian school. The best we can ever aspire to become is a school full of Christians."
Good advice--the word Christian is a much better noun than adjective. The best we can aspire to become are people who wholeheartedly love God and belong to God through Jesus Christ.
It isn't easy trying to find the sacred in the messiness of life. It wasn't easy for the disciples. We need to remember and learn from the experience of the disciples that lonely and grief-filled night. They had lost their Teacher, their friend, their Messiah and had many doubts about the future. But Christ can come into any room if we will let him. Christ can give us his peace. He can breathe into us his spirit, filling our lives with his sacred presence. Will we let him? Will we trust in Christ that in the midst of the chaos of our lives we will find Gods guidance?
Let us move through this world filled with Christ's Spirit and peace assured that we are loved by God. We are made in Gods image. Everyone and everything belongs to God. We bear Gods image and show Gods image as we live in this world. The best we can aspire to become are people who wholeheartedly love God, trust God and belong to God through Jesus Christ. Ultimately that is what matters in our lives. Amen.
April 15, 2007
Mary Alice Lyman
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