5/22/16
What doesn’t change, in this life? Not much, yes? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Do you like that, or not?
The dialogue between parents and children is always interesting, because it’s always different, and always the same. It’s different in the specific issues that are being negotiated, day to day, generation to generation; but what’s the same is that, however well or poorly we do it, to whatever degree we’re right or wrong, parents are trying to teach their kids about the way the world works, and the right way to live in it. Or at least that’s what we should be doing; that’s what we usually tell ourselves.
When our daughter Betty was about 4, Annie and I were involved in one instance of that dialogue with her. I forget what the particular issue was, what expectation of hers needed adjustment (as I saw it), but we patiently (again, as I remember it) explained to her why we were not going to allow her to do exactly whatever it was that she wanted, because of what was real and what was not. And I remember that she listened, with a pretty good four-year-old head of steam working underneath, but she listened; and when we’d said our say she responded, most emphatically, with a figure of speech that she must have picked up at some point from us (we’d never heard it from her before): she said, Yes, but that’s your position. That’s not my position.
Sometimes as a parent I have to acknowledge that the reality my child is presenting to me is a clearer, more accurate version of the truth than the one I’ve been putting out there; and that what I’ve been insisting on is either out of date, or ignorant some way, or I’m being lazy, or I’m just trying to get my own way. The circumstances of life change, because God is always creating. “Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth; do you not perceive it?”
One of the most wonderful things about having children is the new life into which they lead us: the gifts of the Spirit which we receive through them: the things they teach us, not just as parents, but as fellow human beings; God’s new creation that is constantly happening in them every day; and so, also, in us, if we have the sense to be aware of it.
Today is Trinity Sunday. This is the day in our church year when we behold our Christian understanding of God: that God is one God, in three persons, as we usually put it.
It’s a great gift of God that on this Trinity Sunday we celebrate the sacrament of Holy Baptism, a rite in which we witness the presence of all of these “persons”, or all three of God’s ways of being God, you might say. In baptism we live in the truth of God the Creator: God who hard-wired us to be in communion with God, and with each other. That is what baptism formally recognizes. We live in the truth of Jesus Christ, whose way we follow in making the promises of our baptismal covenant. And we live in the truth of the Holy Spirit, by whose power we can live up to those promises; and who binds us all together.
It’s also a joyful coincidence – a little gift of God – that, on this Trinity Sunday, we happen to be baptizing three babies: three distinct persons, soon to be members of the one Body of Christ; or, as our Presiding Bishop Michael Curry puts it, three new members of the Episcopal branch of the Jesus movement.
I like that figure of speech, because it expresses the truth that our religion is active: it’s a way that we follow (in the first century the Christian church was known as “the Way”): an active process of growth in the knowledge and love of God: a process that obviously never ends in this life. And this is so because, as life unfolds around us, God is present in ways that are always new; that’s the truth. And if we want to live truthful lives, and joyful lives, we have to be aware of this.
With this in mind, I want to look briefly at some of the Scripture we heard today, and also at one of the prayers in the baptismal liturgy.
For some weeks now in church we’ve been hearing readings from the gospel of John, in which Jesus is preparing the disciples for his own death, which he knows will be very soon. He will not be there to teach them. They’re going to be on their own. So Jesus tells them he will ask God, and God will send the Holy Spirit, who will guide them into all truth, as we heard today.
What’s interesting is that Jesus says, several times – he keeps coming back to it, in this long section of the gospel - that it’s a good thing that he’s leaving the disciples. He points in this direction in the puzzling words we heard today: “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.” Elsewhere he says it quite literally: “I tell you the truth, it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.” And he points to the reason why it’s a good thing that he goes away in the words we heard last week, on Pentecost: Jesus tells his disciples, “…the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father.”
God loves us, and wants to be in relation to each of us; and wants each of us to grow ever more fully into who God created us uniquely to be: a member of God’s family.
This is all reflected in one particular prayer in the baptismal rite (one of my favorites in the entire Prayer Book.) It’s the prayer which immediately follows the baptism itself – that is, the moment when they get wet, right after that – the priest includes this petition: “Give them an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy and wonder in all your works.”
Do you hear how much of that prayer looks into the future? How it anticipates change? On behalf of the one baptized, we ask God for an “inquiring and discerning heart”: a heart that is always exploring, always asking questions, always seeking to come to deeper levels of understanding; and that is at our heart, at the core of our being. “The courage to will and to persevere”: the recognition that we will always meet obstacles in this life: things that confuse us, that we don’t understand: situations we can’t see our way out of; but we don’t surrender, we don’t give up, we persevere.
And the words we heard today from Paul’s letter to the Romans are bang on the reason why. Paul says, we “boast in our sufferings”, boast in those circumstances through which we must persevere – going from endurance (perseverance) to character (the habit of perseverance) to hope (the faith that, in God, all things will be well); and hope, Paul tells us, “does not disappoint us, because” – and he puts his finger right on it – “because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”
That’s the truth. That’s what doesn’t change. My daughter Betty’s position may be different from my position, as her children’s will be from hers, as it is for each of us day to day. It’s by means of the things that change that we see what doesn’t, and that’s all we need. Thanks be to God.
What doesn’t change, in this life? Not much, yes? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Do you like that, or not?
The dialogue between parents and children is always interesting, because it’s always different, and always the same. It’s different in the specific issues that are being negotiated, day to day, generation to generation; but what’s the same is that, however well or poorly we do it, to whatever degree we’re right or wrong, parents are trying to teach their kids about the way the world works, and the right way to live in it. Or at least that’s what we should be doing; that’s what we usually tell ourselves.
When our daughter Betty was about 4, Annie and I were involved in one instance of that dialogue with her. I forget what the particular issue was, what expectation of hers needed adjustment (as I saw it), but we patiently (again, as I remember it) explained to her why we were not going to allow her to do exactly whatever it was that she wanted, because of what was real and what was not. And I remember that she listened, with a pretty good four-year-old head of steam working underneath, but she listened; and when we’d said our say she responded, most emphatically, with a figure of speech that she must have picked up at some point from us (we’d never heard it from her before): she said, Yes, but that’s your position. That’s not my position.
Sometimes as a parent I have to acknowledge that the reality my child is presenting to me is a clearer, more accurate version of the truth than the one I’ve been putting out there; and that what I’ve been insisting on is either out of date, or ignorant some way, or I’m being lazy, or I’m just trying to get my own way. The circumstances of life change, because God is always creating. “Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth; do you not perceive it?”
One of the most wonderful things about having children is the new life into which they lead us: the gifts of the Spirit which we receive through them: the things they teach us, not just as parents, but as fellow human beings; God’s new creation that is constantly happening in them every day; and so, also, in us, if we have the sense to be aware of it.
Today is Trinity Sunday. This is the day in our church year when we behold our Christian understanding of God: that God is one God, in three persons, as we usually put it.
It’s a great gift of God that on this Trinity Sunday we celebrate the sacrament of Holy Baptism, a rite in which we witness the presence of all of these “persons”, or all three of God’s ways of being God, you might say. In baptism we live in the truth of God the Creator: God who hard-wired us to be in communion with God, and with each other. That is what baptism formally recognizes. We live in the truth of Jesus Christ, whose way we follow in making the promises of our baptismal covenant. And we live in the truth of the Holy Spirit, by whose power we can live up to those promises; and who binds us all together.
It’s also a joyful coincidence – a little gift of God – that, on this Trinity Sunday, we happen to be baptizing three babies: three distinct persons, soon to be members of the one Body of Christ; or, as our Presiding Bishop Michael Curry puts it, three new members of the Episcopal branch of the Jesus movement.
I like that figure of speech, because it expresses the truth that our religion is active: it’s a way that we follow (in the first century the Christian church was known as “the Way”): an active process of growth in the knowledge and love of God: a process that obviously never ends in this life. And this is so because, as life unfolds around us, God is present in ways that are always new; that’s the truth. And if we want to live truthful lives, and joyful lives, we have to be aware of this.
With this in mind, I want to look briefly at some of the Scripture we heard today, and also at one of the prayers in the baptismal liturgy.
For some weeks now in church we’ve been hearing readings from the gospel of John, in which Jesus is preparing the disciples for his own death, which he knows will be very soon. He will not be there to teach them. They’re going to be on their own. So Jesus tells them he will ask God, and God will send the Holy Spirit, who will guide them into all truth, as we heard today.
What’s interesting is that Jesus says, several times – he keeps coming back to it, in this long section of the gospel - that it’s a good thing that he’s leaving the disciples. He points in this direction in the puzzling words we heard today: “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.” Elsewhere he says it quite literally: “I tell you the truth, it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.” And he points to the reason why it’s a good thing that he goes away in the words we heard last week, on Pentecost: Jesus tells his disciples, “…the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father.”
God loves us, and wants to be in relation to each of us; and wants each of us to grow ever more fully into who God created us uniquely to be: a member of God’s family.
This is all reflected in one particular prayer in the baptismal rite (one of my favorites in the entire Prayer Book.) It’s the prayer which immediately follows the baptism itself – that is, the moment when they get wet, right after that – the priest includes this petition: “Give them an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy and wonder in all your works.”
Do you hear how much of that prayer looks into the future? How it anticipates change? On behalf of the one baptized, we ask God for an “inquiring and discerning heart”: a heart that is always exploring, always asking questions, always seeking to come to deeper levels of understanding; and that is at our heart, at the core of our being. “The courage to will and to persevere”: the recognition that we will always meet obstacles in this life: things that confuse us, that we don’t understand: situations we can’t see our way out of; but we don’t surrender, we don’t give up, we persevere.
And the words we heard today from Paul’s letter to the Romans are bang on the reason why. Paul says, we “boast in our sufferings”, boast in those circumstances through which we must persevere – going from endurance (perseverance) to character (the habit of perseverance) to hope (the faith that, in God, all things will be well); and hope, Paul tells us, “does not disappoint us, because” – and he puts his finger right on it – “because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”
That’s the truth. That’s what doesn’t change. My daughter Betty’s position may be different from my position, as her children’s will be from hers, as it is for each of us day to day. It’s by means of the things that change that we see what doesn’t, and that’s all we need. Thanks be to God.
