Date
Sunday, April 21, 2002

"The Holy Spirit III"
The Spirit in Walk and Word
Preached by
The Reverend Dr. Andrew Stirling

Sunday, April 21, 2002
Text: Galatians 5:16-25


In what has now become the infamous coffee shop that I attend daily, I overheard two men this week remonstrating about the hockey playoffs. I must admit I was engrossed by their conversation as they pitted their ample wits on who would win the esteemed prize.

One of them, however, declared in the middle of the conversation (and this took me aback): "Well, I just pray that the Leafs get through this next round, because if they don't, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself for the next two months."

Having overheard that, my mind went back to a memorable moment in that great series Seinfeld where two of the protagonists, Kramer and George Costanza, were in a similar coffee shop having a similar conversation and Kramer was interrogating George about the state of his life. It's a memorable exchange.

Kramer said: "Just look at you. Just look at you. You live at home with your parents, don't you?"

George: "Yes, I do."

Kramer: "Now then, you have no job, do you?"

George: "No, I don't."

Kramer: "You don't have any prospects of a job either, do you?"

George: "No, I don't."

Kramer: "Do you have somebody that is part of your love life?"

George: "No, I don't."

Kramer: "Do you have any prospects of anyone in your love life?"

George: "No, I don't."

Kramer: "Do you have any money?"

George: "No, I don't."

Kramer: "So why do you bother getting up in the morning?"

He responded: "I like to read the morning paper."

Kramer looked at him and said: "You're pathetic. You know that, don't you?"

George said: "Yes, I do."

At that very moment, I realized that I had been listening to two men in a coffee shop talking about hockey. "Who was pathetic?" I thought.

If you had tried this week to read the newspaper as the one thing that keeps you rooted and grounded in some sense of perspective, I don't think this was probably the best week to be doing that, either. Indeed, it seems to me that, bombarded as we are by the headlines every day, there has been some tragedy around every corner.

Now understand that there is a danger in this for all of us, myself in particular. That is because when we read the headlines we forget that there is a whole other element of life that isn't being covered here. The papers don't cover everything and headlines don't capture everything that is going on, thank God.

Having said that, though, as I looked at the state of the world and I listened with eager ears to the television and with open eyes to the newspaper, the headlines certainly didn't give me any cause to get up and want to read them as a way of finding joy in my life. Think of the terrible tragedy of our four soldiers who were killed in Afghanistan by what is euphemistically, though totally inaccurately, called friendly fire; it seems to me that moments like that bring home to us the sheer horror of war all over again.

It's amazing, but if you are like me, you become complacent after a while and if it's not in the headlines and you are not hearing drastic news, you forget that there are people in battle and people dying and conflicts going on in the world. Moments like that just bring it back to our doorstep all over again.

Or I think of the terrible tragedy of what has been going on in the Roman Catholic Church in the United States. I find it hard and difficult to deal with things such as the abuse of children in churches.

I must admit I was particularly distressed when reading over the last few weeks of the case of the young Dooley boy. What particularly upset me, I think, was what happened after the sentencing of his parents, when a police officer who was investigating this crime was asked a question.

He was asked: "Do you think that with this sentence a word, a message will have been sent and there will be fewer cases of abuse?"

He said: "I'm afraid to say that even as we speak these things are still going on in our society."

Certainly, you wouldn't want to be a George Costanza and get up and read the paper this week as your source of joy or your reason for getting up.

In fact, anyone who thinks that we are in the process of creating a Utopia, if the agenda of modernism is still being held out as a way of solving the problems of the world, it's weeks like this that shatter any illusion that we have that somehow we are on just an automatic track of progress, for it's a progress that, if it is there, is continually being halted.

Also this week, I have read with great interest the story of the 20th anniversary of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. I have looked back on the last 20 years and I have read so much of what is being said about what the charter did and has done and how it has tried to protect minorities and how it has tried to protect the weak against the power of the state and entrench in a constitution, in words, the rights of people in our society, regardless of who or what they are or what their make-up is.

Whether or not you are in favour of all the decisions and interpretations that have been made, or the over-interpretation at times of the Charter, the fact of the matter is it is a laudable attempt to try and protect the weak in society and to ensure rights and freedoms.

But the more I think of it, the more I think that whether it is a George Costanza trying to find meaning and purpose in his life, holding onto some glimmer of hope, or whether it is the desire for rights and freedoms within a society, the fact is: None of these things are produced in an outward sense. There has to be something more that transpires in human life and human nature in order that the goals and the purposes that all these things hold out might be achieved.

And herein comes our great passage from the Book of Galatians this morning. This is a passage from a Book that has been called Paul's Book of Liberty. In it, the Apostle Paul critiques, first of all, human nature.

He has a pretty low view of human nature. Look at the list of all the things that he portrays in this passage. I don't know if you're like me but, as he goes through that list, I'm afraid that once in a while I'm pricked in my own conscience by the fact that I, too, am a participant in that list.

The Apostle Paul is looking at human existence. He looks at the life that was around him and he realizes that human beings have this terrible propensity to do these things and to turn their back on God.

This is not, as some have suggested, Paul diminishing the human person. This isn't Paul making a radical distinction between spirit and flesh. This is Paul talking about sort of a fleshliness that turns its back on God, and out of his love for people, out of his compassion for people, he wants something better and something more.

He realizes also, as someone who has been brought up under the power of the law, that while the law is good (and we must always remember that), while the Torah is God's blessing, the Torah in and of itself, although it might provide a superstructure that might constrain human nature, does not change human nature. The laws of Israel, of Moses, might be progressive and helpful, just as the laws of our land. They might provide a superstructure in which our society might build and move forward and address its problems. In and of itself this is laudable, but it is not sufficient.

Paul understood that the power of God's divine Spirit needs to break forth into human nature and transform us, not from the outside, but from within. For Paul knew that there were many people, even he, himself at times, who posture goodness, who have the outward signs of goodness.

Scott Peck in his book People of the Lie talks about them - those who have an outward appearance of righteousness, do all the right things, say all the right things, dress in the acceptable way, have good, solid outward behavior, but their motivations are selfish because they are more concerned about the appearance of their goodness than they are of a true goodness that comes from within.

Paul knew what Peck points out in that book: that human beings can play around with human nature and try and remodel it or reshape it or restructure it, but the fact is, as human beings, we often turn our backs on God's original purpose for our lives.

So he talks now about the light of the Spirit. Here is one of the most glorious declarations of what it means to be a Christian. Here, in a sense, is a writing in the sand for Christians to follow. He says we need to live in the Spirit.

Last week I talked about the Spirit descending upon Jesus, and Jesus' prophetic ministry. His prophetic ministry was to bring good news to the poor, to set the captives free, to bring sight to the blind and the acceptable year of the Lord. This was the ministry of Jesus of Nazareth.

Well, the ministry of Jesus of Nazareth according to the New Testament is continued by the power of the Spirit. That same Spirit calls disciples, calls you and me and every generation to follow in the path of Jesus Christ, to carry out that ministry of liberation and freedom and to enjoy the glory of God's eternal presence, the acceptable year of the Lord. And so, to carry on that ministry, Paul knew that Christians needed the power of the Holy Spirit in their lives.

As I look around society today and I see who are deemed seekers, people who look at the world and realize that the social agenda of the 1960s and 1970s that was utopian, that wanted a peaceful and a just world, has not been fulfilled before their eyes. They know that they are seeking something deeper in their lives.

The Apostle Paul would say to them: "You know what you are really seeking? What you are really seeking after is nothing short of God himself, nothing short of God's Spirit in your life. The things that you envisage, the dreams that you have, the liberation that you want to bring, the freedom and the justice that you desire are not of our own making. They never have been. They never will be. They are a result of the power, the wind of God's Holy Spirit at work in the world and in the church."

Paul also knew that even though at times we seek those good things, often even that search can be selfish. Even that can be self-centred.

I was reading not long ago a comment made by one of the children of Teddy Roosevelt. Teddy Roosevelt was a rather self-absorbed and self-centred person, according to his children. One of them wrote: "My father wants to be the bride at every wedding and the corpse at every funeral."

He wanted to be at the centre of things and he wanted all the attention to be paid to himself.

Leonard Griffith retells a beautiful story by Fyodor Dostoevsky about a woman who died and was asked before she entered Heaven: "Can you tell me one selfless act that you have performed in your life?"

She thought for a while and she could remember only one thing: When she handed a withered carrot to a beggar. And so she waited and before she could get into Heaven, all of sudden this carrot was let down to her on a rope. She grabbed hold of this carrot with all her might and she started to be pulled up to Heaven. The only problem is that there were some lost souls around her, and they were grabbing her leg because they wanted to be carried up with her; but the more that they grabbed onto her, the more the rope began to give. And so finally she said: "Let go. This is my carrot." With that, the rope broke and she and the others descended.

Dostoevsky says, you see, that even our attempts at goodness, even our attempts to justify ourselves, so often are born with a selfish motive: Look at us. Look at how good we are. Look at how righteous we are. And I think one of the fingers that society has pointed at the church is a right finger, actually. It has said: "You know you are always saying how good you are and how right you are and how pure you, are but the fact is that outward appearances are always secondary to inward motivation."

Paul knew that inward motivation is something that comes from the power of the Spirit in our lives. That leads us to the second thing that he said: "You are not only to live in the Spirit. You are to walk in the Spirit."

In other words, you are not only to have spiritual experiences and to be open to the power of God; you've got to walk the talk. You've got to live it. No wonder people often say, as U2 sang: "I still haven't found what I'm looking for."

It is because we have not opened ourselves to the power of God's Holy Spirit. Here, in one of the most poetic and one of the most beautiful statements of all, the Apostle Paul clearly describes what it means to be a Christian in the power of the Holy Spirit. To be a Christian means that no matter what circumstances you find yourself in, the Spirit will carry you along.

I read somewhere, and I still don't know its source, the following line: The happy person is the one who appreciates the scenery even on a detour. And people living the Christian life are people who appreciate the scenery even on the detour, because they are not always concerned about outward appearances. They are concerned about looking through the eyes of God, through the power of God's Holy Spirit.

These are not, as some people have said, virtues, as if they are Greek virtues that Paul is expounding. They are more than virtues. They are the fruits of the spirit. Virtues are things that we emulate from a distance, that we try and live up to. The Spirit is the power that comes from within as we open ourselves to the love of God and there are beautiful words that Paul uses to describe this.

The first is the word agape and agape is the love of God. The love of God is distinct from the other loves that we often practise. It is the love that is born out of the very heart of God himself. It is a love that goes beyond the bounds of normal love. It is the love that is self-giving. As Jesus said: "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love." Abide in my agape. This is the very love of God himself that fills our lives.

He says that we are to be filled with the word chara, which means joy.

Just recently I have been reading a work on Haydn. Haydn said there was a moment in his life when he realized that he was dust and he said to God: "God, forgive me for being dust but use me for being dust. Let me even enjoy being dust that I may serve you and I may praise you."

And so Haydn, even in a piece like Miserere, wrote above it "allegro." He wanted joy and speed and power. So much so that when Haydn was writing his music he was criticized - listen to this, folks - he was criticized by musicians and by people in the church for his music being too loud and too much fast-paced. It was too raucous. But he said: "I could do no other because no matter what I wrote, there was this spirit of joy." There was chara.

Paul said: "I want you to have eirene."

Eirene is peace. Peace is not just the absence of conflict. It is the presence of God. I want you to have that peace, that peace that passes all understanding and it is a peace that flows out of you and is a peace that flows into the world, said Paul. It is a peace that God knows the world so desperately needs. It is eirene.

He said: "I want you to have the spirit of makrothumia."

Makrothumia is not responding to evil with evil. It is a form of forgiveness, really. He said: "I want you to have that spirit of forgiveness within you. I want you to be literally slow to anger."

He said: "I want you to have the spirit of chrestotes." That is goodness. Not a goodness that is fabricated. Not a goodness that weighs up the balance of how it is being perceived by others. It is a self-giving goodness, a goodness that, no matter what situation you find yourself in, pours out of you and is not calculated.

He said: "I want you to have the spirit of pistis, the spirit of faithfulness." A faithfulness that no matter what situation you find yourself in, you are willing to hold true to that which you believe to be right. Again, you don't calculate it, you live it. It is the faithfulness that God demonstrates in Christ for us, therefore we live as that for others.

He said: "I want you to have the spirit of praotes, the spirit of gentleness." The gentleness that looks at evil and does not counteract it with evil but with good; that lays down its life. Christ is our praotes, Christ is our goodness. That is the model. That is the example. That's what the Spirit produces.

He said: "I want you to have the spirit of egkrateia, a spirit of temperance." A temperance that is gentle, but is more than gentle. It is solid and understanding.

For when you have these fruits of the spirit, when these are the things that pour out of you, then you live the life that God intended.

This does not mean (and I want to stress this again) that there is no need for good laws. There is. We desperately need good laws. This does not mean that there does not need to be an external word of justice that goes forth from the church into the world and comes often back to us. This does not mean that we shouldn't be concerned with what others think or that we shouldn't in dignity appreciate the concerns of others. Of course we should.

But the fact is, no matter how many laws you create, no matter how much you try to change society from without, the fact is the subjects of the world are people, are human beings. They are you and I. How we open ourselves to the power of the fruits of the Spirit, the peace, the gentleness, the self-control, the kindness, the faithfulness, the temperance, the long-suffering, the slow-to-anger, these are the things that God produces within us.

This is what Paul prayed for, for the church in Galatia.

But there is one final thing that we need and that is patience in all of this. I hear from many of my friends: "Oh, but this is all so slow! There are things that need to be changed right now!" People become frustrated because they think that the fruits of the Spirit are just about individualism, or pietism. It is not just individualism or pietism. It is much more than that. It is a profound opening of ourselves to the power of God's spirit in our lives and it is not just so that we can have a form of self-improvement, but so that we can bear faithful witness and be disciples.

There is a wonderful fable told by Aesop of a crow. The crow was flying out in the wilderness and had become thirsty. The crow finally sees some water in a jar some water and flies over to it, only to find that its beak is too short and the water is too shallow and it cannot drink of it. The crow knows that without this water, he is going to die. So he goes and gets a stone and places it in the jar and goes back and gets another stone and puts it in the jar, and, even in its weakness, takes time and one by one, stone by stone, causes the water to rise until finally the crow can drink from it.

My friends, that is what Paul meant when he described the Holy Spirit as a living water. The living water is something that sustains and gives life. Every stone that is put in that jar is a fruit of the Spirit and makes that Spirit come alive in human life.

As I sit and I look at the world this day and I see the state of it, and I mourn and I grieve for battered children and the killed soldiers and the inhumanity in the land which should be the land of peace, I cannot help but think how God's desire is still for the fruit of his Spirit to fill his people. For, as Paul said, against this there is no law. Amen.

This is a verbatim transcription of the original sermon.