Trinity Sunday
Genesis 1:1-2:4a; Psalm 8; 2 Corinthians 13:11=13; Matthew 28:16-20
This time after Pentecost is often called “Ordinary Time,” maybe because the lectionary uses ordinal numbers, like “Second Sunday in Ordinary Time.” This year it coincides with the beginning of summer, and I’ll be taking some time off from writing this blog.
In the spiritual life, however, there is no such thing as “ordinary time.” Pentecost changed that idea forever for all believers. The Spirit is working, creating, motivating, driving, getting results. One translation of that opening line in Genesis reads: “The Spirit of God swept over the waters.” Then creation happened, and all humans for all times have been awestruck at the magnitude of it, and the complexity and the beauty of it.
No wonder Psalm 8 is a favorite prayer of many: “O Lord, our Lord, how glorious is your name over all the earth…When I behold your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars which you set in place—What is man that you should be mindful of him?”
In Second Corinthians 13, Paul ends the letter by saying: “Put things in order; listen to my appeal. Live in peace, and the bond of love and peace will be with you.” When I look at my house or my office, the command to “put things in order” is so appropriate. When I look up and out to my community, my state, my country and my world, that is a tall order indeed. It is not an ordinary time. A LOT of people will have to work very hard to make it possible for us to “live in peace.”
We have our work cut out for us. It will not be easy, following this discipleship role. The good news is that we don’t have to do it alone. “Behold, I am with you always,” Jesus promised (Mt. 28:20). How? --Through the presence of His Spirit—the one that works wonders with chaos!
And now we come to the amazing revelation of this first Sunday after Pentecost—the revelation that God is a family: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. "In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit"—that’s how to make disciples of all nations. Introduce them to this family and slowly, slowly they may come to realize what we dare to believe: that we are part of this Divine Family. “Holy Father, keep them in your name…that they may be one, even as we are one; I in them and You in Me...” (John 17:11, 22). He breathed on them and said: “Receive the Holy Spirit” (John 20:22).
What an unfathomable gift! What a way to start this “Extraordinary Time!”
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Commentary on Lectionary for June 12, 2011
Commentary on Lectionary for June 12, 2011
Pentecost Sunday
One of the most vivid images for this feast of Pentecost is wind. Wind translates a Greek word that can also be translated “Spirit.” This is the same word used in Hebrew when the wind hovers over the waters at the story of creation in the Book of Genesis. Wind can take a lot of forms for us earthlings. Like the Eskimos do for snow, we have a number of words for it.
We think of the tiny whispering sound that spoke to Elijah of the presence of God (1 Kgs. 19:12). We think of Jesus breathing on the Disciples after his resurrection—the gentleness of a breath and the message of peace.
Then as we know too well from the over 600 confirmed tornadoes that have touched down somewhere in our country in the past two months, there is the 200 mile per hour wind that can wipe away everything in its path like the whirlwind behavior of an angry child, kicking his carefully structured blocks in all directions.
There is a violent wind in the Pentecost story. But instead of sucking out the air in the upper room like a tornado would, it filled the room with new life and allowed tongues as of fire to appear on the Apostles’ heads.
Psalm 104 makes it clear that God’s name has to be attached to all that happens in the world. It assigns Him responsibility for all of creation. But Pentecost shows that a violent wind is turned into a positive energy. It’s the kind of stuff we see when a Joplin, Missouri begins to resuscitate and looks toward the future with hope. When we look at how we have spent our lives or ask that intimidating question: “How is your consciousness?” we may feel we should have it declared a disaster area. Do we dare call on Jesus or on the Spirit that He left for us?
Paul reminds us: “no one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except by the Holy Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:3), and there is some comfort in that. Our posture is to sit and wait, to let prayer happen, to expect the wind to blow away our sins and fears and to bring hope and peace after the most dreadful disasters. If we can believe this, we can “have life in his name” (John 20:31).
Pentecost Sunday
One of the most vivid images for this feast of Pentecost is wind. Wind translates a Greek word that can also be translated “Spirit.” This is the same word used in Hebrew when the wind hovers over the waters at the story of creation in the Book of Genesis. Wind can take a lot of forms for us earthlings. Like the Eskimos do for snow, we have a number of words for it.
We think of the tiny whispering sound that spoke to Elijah of the presence of God (1 Kgs. 19:12). We think of Jesus breathing on the Disciples after his resurrection—the gentleness of a breath and the message of peace.
Then as we know too well from the over 600 confirmed tornadoes that have touched down somewhere in our country in the past two months, there is the 200 mile per hour wind that can wipe away everything in its path like the whirlwind behavior of an angry child, kicking his carefully structured blocks in all directions.
There is a violent wind in the Pentecost story. But instead of sucking out the air in the upper room like a tornado would, it filled the room with new life and allowed tongues as of fire to appear on the Apostles’ heads.
Psalm 104 makes it clear that God’s name has to be attached to all that happens in the world. It assigns Him responsibility for all of creation. But Pentecost shows that a violent wind is turned into a positive energy. It’s the kind of stuff we see when a Joplin, Missouri begins to resuscitate and looks toward the future with hope. When we look at how we have spent our lives or ask that intimidating question: “How is your consciousness?” we may feel we should have it declared a disaster area. Do we dare call on Jesus or on the Spirit that He left for us?
Paul reminds us: “no one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except by the Holy Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:3), and there is some comfort in that. Our posture is to sit and wait, to let prayer happen, to expect the wind to blow away our sins and fears and to bring hope and peace after the most dreadful disasters. If we can believe this, we can “have life in his name” (John 20:31).
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