Sunday, May 19, 2013

God's Spirit, God's Promise: Pentecost and Today

In difficult times, when I'm feeling lonely or in need of guidance, I sometimes imagine that Jesus is physically there with me, perhaps with his hand on my shoulder. It gives me a sense of peace and warmth when such things are badly needed. When I first started imagining him, I thought, "This is crazy. No one's there. This is pointless." Against the doubts in my mind, I repeat the promise that Jesus made to his followers after his resurrection:  "And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." (Matt. 28:20) If holding onto a mental image of him, even with the knowledge that he probably wasn't as tall, as blond, and as fair-skinned as I picture him, helps me feel his presence even a little bit more, I think it's worth trying. 

For a few months, I've taken up a similar practice when confronting situations where I know I will need the kind of strength that can only come from God. I repeat a short prayer for the Holy Spirit to help me get through a tough day, or to succeed in a challenge, or to resist doing something I know is bad for me. And the funny thing is, I can feel it working. More often than before, right words seem to fall into place during important interactions with people, and I find myself more confident in doing what I need to do.

The Spirit is, to put it (probably too) simply, God's promise to be with us in our daily lives, and especially in difficult times. It was this Spirit that led the Israelites through the Wilderness as they escaped from Egypt, as a cloud by day and a fire by night. It was God's Spirit that dwelt in the Tabernacle of the Ark of the Covenant, and later in the Temple in Jerusalem, the place where Jews flocked to offer prayers and sacrifice and receive forgiveness. If anywhere could be described as the place where Heaven and Earth met, it was the Temple. And yet, when the Babylonians destroyed the building centuries before Jesus' birth, it seemed that God's Presence had gone with it. God's determination to not abandon His people was fulfilled in Jesus of Nazareth, who would become the source of true forgiveness and healing, and a reflection of divine love for which the Jerusalem Temple was only a signpost. To the shock of all around him, he was Immanuel, "God with us," the place where Heaven and Earth met in a way and degree that no one could have anticipated.

However, Jesus knew that God's Spirit could only truly dwell within His people after he had died. Then, it could come as "counselor" and guide, enabling the disciples to accomplish tasks that would have seemed impossible for them. Before his ascension, he told them:  "Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit." (Acts 1:4-5) On the Day of Pentecost, God's Spirit was poured out on many of Jesus' followers, allowing them to preach Jesus as risen Lord to an astonished crowd. God's law was written on their hearts, as it is on ours today.

God's gift of His Son and His Spirit goes against all perceptions of Him as a "clockmaker" god, one that created the world and everything in it and then stepped back from it to let people fend for themselves. It isn't just that God is with us and listens to our prayers, although this is true. But it is when we are at our lowest, when we feel so lost that we can hardly articulate our needs in prayer, that I believe God's Spirit is most active. Our hope for eternal life, Paul says in his letter to the Romans, drive us to persevere through suffering, hardship, and persecution. "Likewise," he adds, "the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words." (8:26) Let that sink into your hearts. This is our God. The Creator and Sustainer of the universe. The Spirit who intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words. The Son of Man who wept publicly near the tomb of his beloved friend Lazarus. This God, who cares for us more deeply than we care for ourselves, is within us, within our churches and communities, rejoicing with us in our triumphs and showering His compassion upon us in times of distress.

"I can do all things," Paul famously wrote, "through Christ who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13) It's a statement that seems incredible or even laughable at times. All things? Really? Aren't some things, like alleviating world hunger, simply impossible? They would be if God were not the God who walked with Abraham, who guided Abraham's descendants in the Wilderness, whose presence continued to dwell with them in the tabernacle and Temple, who became a man of flesh and blood, and whose Spirit He gave to Jesus' disciples on Pentecost. Thousands of years later, those promises to be with His people remain steadfast. Let's try our hardest to accept those promises, to take God at His word. Not for our own selfish gain, not to be able to say "God is on my side, not yours," but to persevere and to do His will on Earth as it is in Heaven.

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