Accompanied by Love: Sermon for the Sixth Sunday in Easter A

In 1939, an incredible cinematic masterpiece burst onto movie screens all over America and all over the world. It was called The Wizard of Oz. The story of a simple, orphaned Kansas farm girl named Dorothy who was taken up in an enormous tornado to a land beyond the rainbow enchanted millions. And those millions needed to be enchanted. The entire world was in the grip of the Great Depression. The evils of totalitarianism, militarism, and fascism were sharpening their fangs and claws over much of Europe and Asia.

Transported from her dull gray world to a land of vibrant hues of yellow, red, and green, all Dorothy wanted was to go home—to her familiar life, even if it had been filled with hardship and misunderstanding. It was a longing that resonated with everyone whose lives had been changed by the worldwide economic downturn. Dorothy was Everyone. The story of her adventure offered hope for those suffering under the challenges and trials of that time.

There was promise embedded in this fanciful story. Even as Dorothy longed for home, she also kept and gained friends who accompanied her on her quest to find the person who supposedly had the power to return her to her home. Her little dog represented loyalty. The tin man, the lion, and the scarecrow represented wisdom, courage in the face of fear, and compassion. And they walked alongside her, loyally being willing to lay down their very lives to protect her from danger. Along the way, they defeated a malevolent presence, the wicked witch, and her minions.

Yet what they learned in the end was the most powerful magic of all. Dorothy learned that her power to return home resided within herself all along—she just needed to be strengthened and supported as she embraced her own abilities. She found out she had advocates and companions who championed her when she needed it most. And when she did return home, home seemed more loving and beautiful than she had previously imagined. But it wasn’t that home had changed. It was that Dorothy had been changed—changed by assurance of the steadfast love and companionship of her friends along the way.

Today in our gospel, Jesus too realizes that his disciples are afraid they will be orphaned, abandoned, unable to find their way home. And Jesus offers his followers the assurance that they too, will have an abiding advocate to remain with them always and to lead them to new knowledge about themselves and their abilities to see the world through eyes of hope. That advocate would be a teacher, a comforter, a companion. We know that advocate as the Holy Spirit.

Many of us have a sort of misunderstanding and even possibly aversion to the Holy Spirit. I know I did, growing up in Oklahoma, especially after my mom took me to some charismatic churches. A charismatic church is one that professes to invite speaking in tongues, prophecy, and other so called spiritual gifts. I know that this kind of worship is uplifting for many people. But as a small child, having a lot of adults all around me shouting, screaming, and dropping to the floor in a faint absolutely terrified me. I thought about those “tongues of fire” over the disciples’ heads in the Pentecost scene from Acts, and said a quick “No thank you” to God when it came to the Holy Spirit, at least. And so I spent a large part of my youth afraid of the Holy Spirit, mistakenly believing that the Holy Spirit’s work within a person was more like a possession or invasion and less like cooperation, a sparking of potential, and teaching.

In other words, I wonder if too often we have equated the Holy Spirit with the tornado that carries Dorothy away from all that she knows and loves. Instead, we need to see the Holy Spirit as being like Dorothy's companions on the yellow brick road: loyalty, wisdom, courage, and compassion.

Because that is exactly what Jesus is promising here. And the use of the word “Paraclete” is helpful, for its English translations are gentler, and comforting: Advocate. Comforter. Helper. This holy presence will remain and sustain us after Jesus’s ascension. The gift of the Holy Spirit in our lives reminds us that there is more to Easter than just the empty tomb. That resurrection isn’t just a moment in time but an ongoing reality and promise to us as Christians that eternal life is rooted in the present, not some distant future. And it is always, ALWAYS rooted in love. Love as an action and a force of life, not as a mere emotion.

As noted in the very first verse in our gospel today, Jesus links love and obedience to commandments together; love is the mark of obedience and discipleship. As Galatians 5:22-23 reminds us, the gifts of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. The presence of any of these characteristics can be seen as a sign that the spirit of God is present and active in a person or a place. Symbols used in the Bible to depict the Holy Spirit include wind, flame, a dove, pillars of clouds and fire, and, in 1 Kings 19: 12 a “still small voice.”

In fact, that reminder is important. Too often, we think of the flames bursting out over all the disciples’ heads at Pentecost, and of the Spirit seizing control of someone and possessing them, like when we’ve seen depictions of people speaking in tongues. And so we fear the Holy Spirit—its power, its unpredictability from images like those.

But the gifts of the Spirit are all gifts that comfort rather than frighten or threaten a loss of control and independence. These are gifts which call us even deeper into ourselves, so that we may be empowered to continued Jesus’s work in the world. It is the Spirit that empowers Paul to give his great sermon at Athens that we heard in our first reading. It is the Spirit that gives him the wisdom to appeal to them not through castigating them or trying to frighten them. Paul knows he is in the center of learning and reason in the entire known world.

We have a lot in common with those Greeks. We worship all kinds of things— power, money, beauty, youth, celebrity being the most common in our culture. We see each one of these things as a highly desirable commodity, often one we are willing to risk our very lives or souls to obtain, when really they are a responsibility. And frankly that is our greatest challenge in this time of pandemic. We are hearing too much about people proclaiming, angrily and sometimes violently, their rights. And yet each right comes with an equally compelling responsibility—otherwise, chaos and destruction ensue. 

How can we recover the sense of community necessary for our mutual flourishing in this time of pandemic? What if we circled back to those gifts of the spirit again? 

What if we resolves to be motivated not by anger, ignorance, and self-defeating self-interest, but instead by

Love
Joy
Peace
Patience
Kindness
Goodness
Faithfulness
Gentleness
Self-control

Think of those gifts as filters and checks on the selfishness of those who insist in their rights regardless of the impact those rights have on others. We must meet the challenges of this time not with fear, resentment, anger, or lashing out. Instead, imagine how our world could change, even beyond the challenge of this pandemic, if instead, we rooted all our actions in love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.

We have an opportunity right now to examine the parts of our lives before this pandemic that didn’t work, and dedicate ourselves to making our society better. Times of upheaval can be times of blessing if we use them to critically examine places where we were told we had to accept the inequalities and injustices of the times in which we lived as the cost for our own comfort. And that is okay to some people so long as it is other people who are suffering. But Jesus calls us to stand for true justice and peace for all. Jesus calls us to be an advocate for those who have no voice.

That’s why “Paraclete” may be a good synonym for us to get used to using when we talk about the Holy Spirit. The literal meaning of Paraclete is itself comforting—para means “alongside” and kaletos mean “to call.” In other words, the Paraclete is a tangible reminder of a leader who walks alongside us in empathy, in support, in sharing all our burdens—and who strengthens us to be able to be advocates and strengtheners for others, too. The leadership exhibited by Jesus and reinforced by the Holy Spirit is non-hierarchical. It’s balanced and compassionate. When have we ever needed such a model more than in a time such as this?

Jesus promises us an Advocate in the Paraclete—but other meanings of the word include Counselor or Helper. In the other mentions of the Paraclete in the Farewell Discourse, Jesus further defines the functions of the Holy Spirit to include teaching, reminding, abiding, and testifying to the truth of Jesus. The Paraclete is also not the property of an individual, but is sent to continue creating community. This is why the Church is mentioned in the section of the Nicene Creed that deals with the Holy Spirit.

God knows, many of us wouldn’t turn down the offer of an advocate to promote our cause, especially in times such as this. And to make sure we feel comfortable with the advocacy being offered, we are reminded that the Holy Spirit is ANOTHER Advocate to abide with us—the first Advocate is Jesus.

In our gospel today, one of the most touching things Jesus says about the Spirit is that she is sent to us so that we would not imagine ourselves abandoned, or more pointedly, as orphans. Any of us and those around us are struggling with that feeling right now. Those are important words for those of us living 2000 years after Jesus’s physical and historical life ended even in the best of times—and this time of uncertainty and fear only strengthens our tendency to lose faith in the love of God when times are in crisis. The Spirit is a powerful way we experience God’s presence, especially in times of turmoil or uncertainty—in other words, right now in the midst of this ongoing pandemic.

Jesus’s words in our gospel today speak to us precious comfort as we, just like those disciples, hang suspended between real and imagined and dreaded losses. That’s why we need to hear that God is always accompanying us—especially in times of fear and anxiety. We need to remember that Jesus is God’s way, truth, and life, as we heard proclaimed last week—especially in this time when some people profit off of truth-denial and fear-mongering. Instead, the Holy Spirit gives her powerful witness to a leadership model that does not seek to enforce the leader’s will, but walks alongside others in love, compassion, and empathy.

This is a time for us to call the Holy Spirit alongside us and lead us into wisdom, courage, and compassion. Not just for our own sakes, but for the sake of each and every person whose life we may inadvertently touch. In welcoming the life-giving power of the Spirit into our lives, we, like Dorothy, can be empowered to fight the forces of fear and greed that endanger all of us, and instead be empowered and encouraged to walk alongside each other—especially those who are vulnerable. 

Come, Holy Spirit. Strengthen us to be people who joyfully bear each other’s burdens, and who proclaim the comfort of truth in the name of love. United in love, we know you can lead us all home.

Amen. 

Preached at the 10:30 service broadcast online on Facebook Live from St. Martin's Church, May 17, 2020.

Readings:
Acts 17:22-31
Psalm 66:7-18
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21