Broken and transformed

Texts: Revelation 22; John 17:20-26

Do not leave us comfortless, O God. 

We always say this on this Sunday that falls between Ascension Day, which was last Thursday, and the Day of Pentecost, which is next Sunday. If you want to get literal, we are in a place of in-between - between the time when Jesus has ascended into heaven, as we say in the creed, and the time that the Holy Spirit showed up as tongues of flame upon the disciples gathered in Jerusalem, setting their hearts on fire to spread God’s love and healing through the world. 

Jesus had told his disciples before he died that he was going away, but that it was to their advantage, because once he had brought all of humanity right into the heart of God, then God would send God’s spirit to be among the faithful in all times and in all places, even to us today, to be our guide, to be that wisdom that helps us discern how to follow Jesus when Jesus is not physically here, and that voice that prompts us to act faithfully. 

So that’s where we are in the story that we tell every year through our seasons of Epiphany, Lent, and Easter. Jesus came to show us God. Jesus has died, Jesus has been raised from the dead, Jesus has taken our humanity into heaven, all of our humanity, even the terrible parts, even suffering and death, and the Divine Spirit of God is coming to guide us the rest of the way.

In Rite I language we call this Spirit The Holy Ghost. In Rite II we call this The Holy Spirit. The Gospel of John uses many names - the Paraclete, the teacher, the advocate, the comforter.

Today I think most of us want to think of the Spirit as a comforter. Because here we are again, confronted with unspeakable pain and horror unleashed by another slaughter of innocents. And so it is natural that what we crave right now is comfort, a spirit that, as St. Paul said, intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words. A spirit that translates to God our anguish and translates back to us God’s embrace.

But there is more to the Spirit of God than comfort. A few verses back, in John, Jesus is talking with his disciples about the Spirit that is to come, and he says: I have many other things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. But when the Spirit comes, that Spirit will guide you into God’s truth about those things that you will feel you cannot bear. The Spirit will prompt, teach, urge the community into and through the pain of transformation into a new creation, new life, because God knows, transformation does not happen without pain. It only happens when our hearts are finally broken open.

If there ever was a time we need to pray for communal transformation it is now, now in the wake of the 27th school shooting and the 231st mass shooting this year alone; now in the midst of a society that has resigned itself to horrific violence as just an unavoidable, unpreventable part of life.

While cultural Christianity focuses on the individual’s personal relationship with Jesus as the key to salvation and going to heaven as the goal, Biblical Christianity is communal. It is about building the beloved community where we are. It is concerned with the transformation of the world we are living in now through radical love, about loving and serving neighbor as the most basic action a Christian can and should do, about the every day work of the Christian to look beyond self, to build up the community, to reject violence and degradation, to stand up for the vulnerable, to be God’s love in the world, and that doesn’t mean just being nice. Yes, Jesus said blessed are the peacemakers, and also Jesus turned over the tables in the temple. And Jesus suffered and died a horrible death and our response to that has to be more than being nice or wanting to go to heaven when we die. Our response to that has to be a rejection of the forces that put God on a cross. A rejection of the use of power to destroy the vulnerable, rejection of greed, a rejection of violence as a means to anything in this world now. Nothing Holy can be gained through any of those means. 

And so we must be transformed. We must pray not just for comfort but also for the strength to bear what transformation asks of us. To bear the risk of radical love that says to be one with God means not just saying no personally to our society’s violent ways but saying no communally and doing something about it. 

And I know this is not simple. We live in a complex world that is both beautiful and broken, beguiling and bewildering. Jesus knew when to teach about peace and when to turn over the tables. He knew which was which, when to do the one and when to do the other. We must rely on the Spirit to prompt us to know which is which as well, to know when not just to feel but also to act with righteous anger whenever we see the world sacrifice again the vulnerable on the altar of power and greed. To let our hearts be finally broken open so that we can be transformed.

And so on this Sunday as we await the coming of the Spirit again, let us imagine Jesus ascended to the throne of God Almighty, taking the human experience, the human condition, the sorrow and pain and suffering, taking death right into the heart of God and saying to God, I love them. They’re a mess but I love them and I am asking you to help them. Send them comfort in their pain, and also send them wisdom to see and know that love is the most powerful force there is. Send them your Spirit that can transform their sorrow into strength. Send them inspiration to come out of their locked rooms and be your powerful love, to act it out in the world. Set them on fire for righteousness, God, as you did for me, says Jesus. Because I love them and want for every one of them love, too.

So come Holy Spirit, come. Come and break our hearts open and set us on fire for righteous, transformational love.