But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you [John 14:26].
You might think it a bit odd, but sometimes when I read a pericope of Holy Scripture, my mind jumps back to a situation or to an event decades long gone. It isn’t so much that the verses themselves cause me mentally to recall the long-passed event. Rather, it’s in what I can only describe as the movement of the Holy Spirit—as presumptuous as that might sound—that my heart is “reminded” of the special moment in my past. That special moment need not always be warm and fuzzy.
For example, it happened yesterday morning, as I read the Gospel lesson appointed for this upcoming Sunday, the Sixth Sunday of Easter [John 14:23-29, RCL, Year C]. As I scanned over the familiar words, I was carried back to the second-floor hallway in the “children’s wing” of First United Methodist Church (Gastonia) in 1977, or thereabouts.
Anna, our only child at that point, was experiencing a serious bout of “separation anxiety.” It was a weekly occurrence. Each Sunday, before the 10 o’clock Sunday school hour, when Jane and I dropped her off at the church toddler’s area, Anna would begin to sob uncontrollably, and begin as well to scream, in her more than ample voice, “Don’t leave, don’t leave.”
Other than to offer a prayer that the toddler attendants would be spared from hearing loss, there didn’t seem to be much we could do. Jane and I were still young enough—i.e., foolish enough—to think that we could glean some guidance from an “expert.” We had a friend who had an active child psychology practice. He also wrote a popular and engaging newspaper “advice” column that was perfectly geared to anxious parents like us.
We explained the situation to him and asked him what our options might be. He said our “problem” was completely normal, that if Jane would just leave one of her personal objects with Anna when we left the toddlers room, Anna would likely be much more manageable. The psychologist said the theory was straightforward. He said, “A child Anna’s age often doesn’t recognize that you’ll always return for her, but she does tend to think that Jane will return to retrieve her important, personal item.”
We tried it. “It” didn’t work.
Separation anxiety—it’s isn’t limited to church hallways. During the final days before our Lord’s Friday afternoon appointment on a hill called Golgotha, his disciples were in the midst of a severe bout of separation anxiety. They sensed the overwhelming weight of what was rapidly happening around them. And so, in a series of questions found at the end of John 13 and in the portion of John 14 that precedes this Sunday’s lesson, no fewer than four of them—Peter (John 13:36), Thomas (14:5), Phillip (14:8), and finally Judas (not Judas Iscariot)—were so worried that they proffered anxious questions or statements to Jesus. What lay ahead?
Judas’ (a/k/a Simon’s) question was particularly telling. Picking up on Jesus’ promise that while the world will soon no longer see Him, they themselves would continue to do so, Judas asks, “Lord, how is it that you will reveal yourself to us, and not to the world?” [John 14:22].
The Gospel lesson for this Sunday begins with our Lord’s somewhat obtuse response:
Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. Anyone who does not love me will not obey my teaching [John 14:23-24a].
We should recall that Jesus has already told them about the “many dwellings” in His Father’s house, and that he is going there to prepare a place for them [John 14:2]. And yet, he says, they need not “wait for Heaven.” Jesus stresses that if they love Him and obey His teachings, then He and the Father will “come to them and make [their] home with them” [John 14:23]. The Kingdom of God does not merely await the ones who love and obey; it is the Father’s gift now. All the while that Christ prepares the many dwellings to be ready for the age to come, He and the Father will continue to dwell with the disciples.
And so, to answer Judas’ question, God the Father and God the Son will be present for and, therefore, visible to the disciples, because the Father and Son reside with those who love Christ and keep His teachings/commandments. Christ will be invisible to those in the world that fail to love Him, that fail to follow his teachings.
To ease their separation anxiety, Jesus advises that He has one more gift for the disciples. He assures them that God the Father will send an Advocate, the Holy Spirit, who will “teach [them] all things” and “remind them” of everything that Jesus has said to them [John 14:26].
This gift of the Holy Spirit is wonderful, but what’s more, it’s necessary. With His words, Jesus reminds us all that we don’t come to Christ through beautiful walks at the beach or through quiet afternoons along a mountain stream, although both are gifts from the Creator in their own right. We come to Christ through others. I think it’s Will Willimon who has said or written, “to become a Christian, someone has to tell you a story that you can’t tell yourself.”
Indeed, through the work of the Holy Spirit, one or more “evangelizers” must come to each of us since none of us comes into this world with the ability to grasp the length and breadth of God’s love for us on our own. Like it or not, we all must be taught the Faith. It does not come to us naturally. And so, in matters of Faith, we are debtors. I’m reminded of an important Old Testament pronouncement offered on a number of occasions to me and others by a friend and long-time able advocate for Duke Divinity School, the Rev. Dr. Wes Brown:
We all drink from wells we did not dig and eat from vineyards and olive trees we did not plant [Deuteronomy 6:11].
Each one of us has received the faith from someone else. Your story is no doubt different from my own, but we are both dependent on others who have been inspired by the Holy Spirit to speak to us.
For me, it has been relatively easy, growing up as my brothers and I did at the feet of two very different, but equally pious and devout grandmothers, being raised by parents who not-so-softly challenged us, and who diligently took us to church—and made sure that we listened—especially when we did not desire to go. My faith matured even more through my many years with Jane who, as my quiet, but effective supporter and advocate, has helped both of us encounter Christ in our home life and in First Church-Gastonia, in Durham’s Asbury UMC, Trinity Avenue Presbyterian, and now Blacknall Memorial Presbyterian. Within these wonderful ecclesiae, we have been so blessed to abide.
The Holy Spirit has caused countless numbers of His servants to cross our paths, in varying ways, teaching and reminding us along our sojourn. The Spirit has sent us Jeanie and Robert Alexander of Rock Hill, Luke and Lin Bell of Stokes County, Mary Beth and Felix Markham, Jim and Ruth Petrie, Will and Patsy Willimon, the late Rev. Dr. Wilson Nesbitt, the late Rev. Wally Ellis, and the late Bishop Ken Goodson (all from Durham). I hesitate to name these loved ones as teachers and “reminders” because in doing so, I recognize that I’m leaving out so many others. My point is this: Jane and I have been taught and reminded of God’s love for us, of Christ’s sacrifice for us, and of His constant presence among us, by others. Christ abides with us today in no small part because of the Good News that has been communicated to us by many of you.
While your own story may sound somewhat different, at its heart, I’d wager that it’s much the same. You may have had struggles here and there. You may have had doubts. In the end, however, I suspect that you didn’t so much find Christ as He found you, and then through the work of the Holy Spirit, Christ caused others to come to you, some of them—many of them—taking on the role inspired by the Paraclete. The original disciples were just the first in a long line of others who would be/will be utilized by the Holy Spirit to communicate the Good News of Jesus Christ.
Think back when you were in trouble, when you were saddened by loss, when you were fearful or bewildered. The Holy Spirit likely caused someone to come to you, to sit with you, to hold your hand, sometimes even in silence. In those moments, the Holy Spirit was teaching you, reminding you that you are loved and claimed by God, and that through the selfless acts of Jesus Christ, you belong to God now and forever.
One thing is for sure: with God, through Christ, there is no need for separation anxiety. Christ abides with us. He is, after all, Immanuel.
Be First to Comment