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| SERMONS Sean Gilbert – 13/6/10 The Presence of the Sacred. A song held is not a song at all: We are surrounded, By that which we have no claim to, On this day when we celebrate the coming of Spirit, the Presence of Spirit, the Promise of Spirit, it is well worth the asking, to what end, what meaning, what purpose is all this? Well, in my mind, it has little to do with ritual, or religion, form and function, but everything to do with human development, inspired living, human expression, human vocation – the energy to give and to truly connect in exactly the same vicarious and wonderfully spontaneous natural way of the magpie: the song of one’s life unrestrained and unique, not held back. Our friend, Philip Carter, wrote this recently, The presence of Spirit, the libido of Spirit, the force of Spirit: encouraging the deeper responses to life, people and circumstance. That presence that Jesus knew and loved and trusted; that presence that would combine to guide, energize and be along side the fledging young community as it made its way from being a fearful band of apostles to a scattered and divine movement across the Greco Roman world. Significantly for us, this presence lifts us further into this life with all its ambiguities, complexities and mortality. It does not deal only with the pristine, and orderly, the so called ‘godly’ and good. It certainly doesn’t come magically from without and make all things right and happy again, like some kind of religious cure-all. But there is a force, there is a presence and libido for life, for song to finally burst from our hearts and the back of our mouths. It is no small gift. It will be and must be heard, for it is the gift of living – a fully human and fully alive experience. In latter years, this elusive, yet constant presence of Spirit has lifted me into a fullness of life in ways that defy logic, maybe even common sense; from periods of raw brokenness, despair, to times of wonderment and elation. I’ve grown to trust what seemingly comes easier to others and particularly to Mark’s magpie; the guiding and holding hand, the unexpected circumstance, the interior idea or prodding that works well and fruitfully in the long run; An unfolding knowing of the God of compassion, not simply in theory, but in practice, not in somebody else’s autobiography but throughout the pages of my own experience. Reading once more the quote from Scott Sanders: This power is larger than life, although it contains life. It’s tougher than love, although it contains love. It’s akin to the power I sense in lambs nudging the teats of their dams to bring down milk, in the raucous tumult of crows high in trees, in the splendour of leaves gorging on sun. I recognize this force in children puzzling over a new fact, in grown ups welcoming strangers, in our capacity, young or old, for laughter and kindness, for mercy and imagination. No name is large enough to hold this power, but of all the inadequate names, the one that comes to me now is spirit. I know the risks of using such a churchy name. Believers may find me blasphemous for speaking of the wind that blows through all things without tracing the breath to God. Nonbelievers may find me superstitious for invoking any force beyond gravity, electromagnetism, and the binding energy of atoms. But I must run those risks, for I cannot understand the world, cannot understand my life, without appealing to the force of spirit. This Christian life, then, can be equated to a constant appealing to the force of Spirit. An availing ourselves to the desire of Spirit, an expectation that God is, and that God still acts and speaks and motivates and stirs the human imagination and will. It may sound odd but on a day like this, but it is about restoring the lived reality and mystery of Spirit back into the beating soul of the church; beyond good practice, beyond morality, beyond rationalisms, beyond appearances and duty and all the things that still continue to bind or stop the unconstrained voice of you and me being sung freely and gratefully. No wonder the early Christian converts were considered to be drunk with wine at 9a.m. No they weren’t but they were intoxicated in deeper ways; so-called respectable and sane boundaries were collapsed for the sake of something far more enduring and life enhancing. Boundaries of fear and prejudice collapsed for the sake of welcome and acceptance. Boundaries of religious bigotry collapsed in the quest for a common experience of the Divine. Boundaries of race and culture collapsed in the hope of commonality and mutual respect. Boundaries of judgementalism collapsed through the heartfelt need of compassion and mercy for all, and not just some. Friends, this is no passive, domesticated force we appeal to this day. This is no small amount of presence to try and contain. Spirit - Holy Spirit - is no prudish and modest energy we enjoin ourselves to. It is to be unleashed, flowed with, led by, got into the slip stream of. For surely, it is God’s great gift of transforming, procreative and healing love. It is our love of life to sing and to give away with daring, confidence and joy. | |||||||||||||