THE SAINT NEXT DOOR

My mother used to say that in this world we sanctify one another. I heard her when she said that but, truly, I never really heard her. It was just Mom reflecting in her kind and loving way. But over the years I came to realize that she was right, right on, as we used to say back in the day. The problem was, back in those days, the only sanctified ones I ever thought about were the saints we revered in church and whose statues reminded us of their saintly character, something of which I knew I did not possess!

What Mom was getting at, I think, was to remind us that we all have some saintliness about us. We are children of a good and loving God and are thus good and loving in and of ourselves even if we do not always or maybe even regularly live out this goodness and love that is part and parcel of our being. It is always there and will always be there and it is up to us to make it alive and visible in our lives.

When we do that, we, in Mom’s words, sanctify one another. When we help another in need, whatever that need, we make the other’s life better, holier, whole-ier, if you will. We fill in the void, the emptiness, whatever the void, that is causing the other pain and suffering. And it doesn’t have to be a huge and visible void, a pain that is almost unbearable. In fact, most of the time, out saintly acts are almost invisible or at least seem not to be all that important.

The churches I supply at now that I am semi-retired are all involved in saintly ministry which is what they are supposed to be about. They prepare meals for a women’s shelter, community meals for a city that is economically depressed, help fill food banks for those in need. The list goes on. Two little girls volunteered to shovel my mother-in-law’s driveway. Yes, the hoped to be paid and thought a dollar would be wonderful. The point is, they knew she lived alone and could use the help.

Our five-year-old grandson colored pictures for his cousins while they stood watch as their father lay dying. He didn’t understand death but he knew they were sad and he wanted to cheer them up. His father lovingly shaved his uncle’s beard as he lay paralyzed by a stroke. Saintly acts by saintly people who would never consider themselves saints. They were just doing what came from the goodness and love within and, in the process, sanctified in some small way another, others.

We forget that, don’t we? Or at least we all too often take for granted how we sanctify one another. Oh, we are very much aware of being sanctified by others when they come to ease our pain, whatever that pain is. But when we are the sanctifier, well, that’s another story. The point is, as my Mom tried to tell my siblings and me way back then, is that we have it within us to help those in need live a better life. We sanctify them. What she didn’t say, and what we only learn when we do so, is that we are sanctified as well, perhaps even more so.

NO EXCUSE WHEN THE HOLY SPIRIT IS INVOLVED

When the Holy Spirit lives in us, one of the excuses we cannot use to get us out of a mess of our own making is the one that claims we did not know we were doing was sinful. There is a difference between doing something that is wrong and not knowing that it was wrong and doing something we knowingly understand to be sinful. The Holy Spirit helps us in discerning right from wrong, good from bad, sinful from not. On our own we may be able to do the same. But when the Spirit lives in us, as Jesus promised the Spirit would do, we cannot blame others for or sins or even make excuses for them.

We do, of course. We almost have to. That is the only way we can live with ourselves. If we cannot blame someone else for our foolishness, at least we can claim ignorance. We do not want to accept full and total responsibility for each and every one of our actions. It would seem to be too much of a burden, especially given our sinfulness. Not rampant sinfulness, mind you: we are not that bad. But because we know the Spirit is living in us, we are sorely tempted to try to pass the blame when we go against the promptings of the Spirit.

Lest we beat ourselves unmercifully because of this, we can at least take a large measure of consolation in the fact that the Spirit does live in us and that we recognize and accept this fact. We can take further consolation in the fact that the Spirit has probably saved us from ourselves more times than we could count and even more times than we would or could ever realize. The grace of God flowing through the Holy Spirit is a marvelous gift we do not deserve but are so grateful to possess.

That same grace that keeps us, for the most part, on the straight and narrow, is the same grace from the same Spirit that helps us live without fully understanding. Our faith, especially during these trying days, is put to the supreme test. We wonder why the virus, why so many deaths, why is had to happen, who’s to blame, when will it all end or will it?  We have not seen the empty tomb or the risen Christ. All we can see in analogy is the rock rolled back from the tomb asking us to believe.

We believe even as we struggle with that belief. We are not asked to have a blind faith in something we have never seen. That would be both foolish and impossible. But what has happened for each of us is that the Spirit, many, many times already in our lives, has allowed us to experience what Jesus did: resurrection to new life. They came as a surprise, a shock even, but they came and we are thankful.

Granted, our resurrections were not of the same kind. But they were resurrections anyway. We have been dead to sin and we have been raised to new life. The pain that was caused by our sins has been resurrected, if you will, to new life both because of Jesus’ resurrection and because of the grace of God living in us through the Holy Spirit. It will be that way in the days and weeks and months and years to come.

That is the Easter promise and it is one that we have known and experienced in one way or another throughout our lives, whether we were aware of that new life or not.

A VERY LONG (GOOD) FRIDAY

Years ago I heard Tony Campolo – pastor, author, public speaker – tell of a Good Friday “Preach Off” of which he was a part. He said that after he was finished with his sermon, he felt mighty proud. I am sure he was justified in this regard. But then, he said, the Senior Pastor got up and told Tony he hadn’t heard anything yet. The Pastor got into the pulpit and started: “It’s Friday but Easter’s coming!” He kept repeating that phrase over and over again getting louder each time. And he didn’t need to say more.

Well, for you and me, it’s still Friday and it’s going to be a long time before we can ever refer to it as a “good” Friday. Easter, resurrection, new life is a long, perhaps a very long way off no matter what the politicians are telling us. I believe the experts: the medical professionals. I also live with a nurse who truly understands what is going on. We’re all suffering in one way or another and we don’t like it.

For thousands and for thousands more to come, this Friday-of-our-lives has resulted and will result in death. For others it meant and means real physical suffering and disability, even permanent. For the vast majority of us it has been nothing more, at least so far, than a great personal inconvenience. We can’t go where we want to go or do what we want to do like we used to. Some insist they have a constitutional right to do so and are acting accordingly and, in the process, trampling on the rights of the rest of us who are trying to stay safe. That is sad, and if I may say so, selfish.

That First Friday only became Good after the Resurrection. But it took a long, long time for the world to understand just what that Good was and is all about, namely new life, a new life because of a new way of living, living in love and service to others rather than in love and service primarily, and sometimes, only to self. This Friday will only become Good for us when we learn or re-learn that lesson again. It will be tragedy if we do not.

I would not call this pandemic an act of God’s providence. God doesn’t work that way. But it might, could, should be providential. We, individually and collectively, are being given time to take a serious look at our lives, at what is truly important and what is not. It is a time to reflect on our abundant blessing most of which we have simply either taken for granted or, sadly, believe we deserve, which we don’t.

The time will come, we know not when, when things will be back to normal. Unless we learn nothing, it will be a new normal. If we use this time well, leave politics out of it and allow our common humanity and interdependence to show us the way. When the time comes when we are able to press that re-set button for our lives, we will know what is truly important and what is not. It is only then when resurrection and a new way of living for us individually and as a world will take place. There is always resurrection. What it will look like is in our hands. What we know for certain as believers is that it’s Friday but Sunday’s coming!

IS THERE JOY AMONG US?

The first Christians did not try to conceal their faith in Jesus. They were proud of that faith and because of it God blessed them by giving them special gifts. While these gifts made others stand back in awe and wonder, that was not the purpose for God’s granting them. It was simply the result of an almost all-consuming faith and the joy that came with such a faith.

This tiny community of faith truly believed they were special. They had been called by God, specifically chosen by God, to tell the world that the Messiah had come in the person of Jesus. They were not afraid to do so either. That is why they went to the temple on a regular basis, daily in fact. There they engaged in prayer and witness and then came back to their gathering place to tell one another with joyful hearts what had taken place.

Joy: that, I think, is what set this tiny community of faith apart from everyone else. They joyfully looked forward each morning to going to the temple to tell others about Jesus and went to bed each evening joyfully giving thanks to God for the privilege of witnessing to their faith and looking forward to the morning when they could arise and do it again. Their lives radiated the joy they felt in their hearts, radiated it wherever they went in whatever they did. And they couldn’t help it.

Sometimes I think that sense of joy has been lost over the centuries, certainly tempered to a degree, sometimes a vast degree. Unlike those first disciples, I think we often witness to our faith these days more out of a sense of duty than out of a sense of privilege. Jesus has chosen us, each one of us, to tell the world about our faith in him. What a privilege that is, if we think about it.

Should we not be filled with joy because of this? Should we, too, not arise each morning in joyful anticipation for any and all opportunities to witness to our faith in Jesus whenever and however those occasions may arise throughout the day? The problem, I suspect, is that we don’t see our daily lives to be such opportunities. But they are. Our faith is lived out in the way we live our lives, for better or for worse.

The reason or at least one of the reasons why the church grew so quickly in those early days and years was that the joy of the first disciples and converts was so infectious even when they were being persecuted. Perhaps if each of us were more joyful Christians, more and more people would seek to discover what we have discovered and will find what we have found but which we seem to want to keep too much to ourselves.

Are there are too few occasions and too few Christians filled with this joy in our day and time? No, in fact, there are not. When we reflect on our faith and what it means to us, we are filled with joy and thanks. We can’t help it!  What we can do is help others become infected with this same joy.

One can only wonder what would happen if we as a church and as individuals within the church became much more aware of this joy especially today in times like these.