Longing for the Spirit: Advent Calendar Day 18
There is a story told of a boy who was taken to church by
his father. As the preacher got into the
pulpit, the boy was fascinated. Once he
arrived at the top of the steps, the preacher put a Bible onto the desk. “Daddy, Daddy, what does that mean?” asked
the boy. “Ah, son, that means we’re
going to have a good Biblical sermon today.”
From the Bible, the preacher took some papers – his notes for the
sermon. “Daddy, Daddy,” said the boy,
“What does that mean?” “That, my boy,
means that the preacher has done his homework, and we’re going to have a
well-crafted sermon today.” Then the
preacher took off his watch, and laid it next to the Bible on the desk. “Daddy, Daddy, what does that mean?” The father looked his son in the eye and
said, “That means absolutely nothing.” I
should warn you I don’t wear a watch!
My name is Simon. I’m
the CMD officer for the Diocese, which means I look after clergy training. I have a special role for curates, so I have
got to know all of the clergy here. I’m
also the Canon Chancellor at the Cathedral, and there I take services, form a
link between Cathedral and Diocese, and look after some of the adult education
that the Cathedral offers. More
importantly, I’m a husband and a father.
And if you really want to know about me, I like chocolate, real ale and
Doctor Who.
There has been some concern, I know, that I am an
academic. Well, I do have that in my
background but I have fairly deliberately chosen to use that background within
the church. I am very clear that the
Kingdom of God is not about being clever, and that following Jesus is not about
using big words! What I hope to offer
you over this weekend are some ideas, some questions and some stories that help
us think about how together we can be God’s people living in God’s world. That’s not overly clever – we are already
God’s people living in God’s world. I
want us to think about this through the passage from Romans chapter 8 that we will
look at each time we come together over the weekend.
There are three big themes to this passage from Romans: the
Spirit of God, the creation (of God) and the children of God. Broadly speaking, tonight we are going to
think about the Spirit of God; tomorrow morning we will think about the
creation of God; and then tomorrow evening at All Saints we will consider the
children of God. Tonight, then, I want
to offer a brief overture of what Romans 8 might have to say to us. And I’m going to get you to do most of the
work!
As we approach this passage thinking about the Spirit of God,
there are three themes I want us to consider.
The first is pain. Romans 8 is
full of images of pain. There are the
“sufferings of the present time.” There
is also the straining of creation, as it stands on tiptoe to see what might
come. Creation is subject to futility and decay. There are the labour pains of creation. And there are the groans of God’s
children. This is not a passage of easy
confidence, but a hard-won account of life through real difficulties.
And so, on your tables I’d like you to share two
things. Please share one thing that
causes you pain. And please share
something that you see of pain in Mickleover.
…
The second theme of this passage is hope. We are saved in hope, and that means that we
can’t see it! We are always stretching
to grasp what we and our world might be.
Paul here writes about being on tiptoes, and that is a really helpful
image. “Now we see in a mirror darkly”
he wrote elsewhere (1 Corinthians 13).
All that we believe and hope for we cannot know, for it is beyond our
reach. Turn to the end of the book of
Revelation (I was always told to read Revelation in the opposite way to reading
a whodunit – turn to the end and find out who wins!). The end of the book of Revelation speaks of
the new creation, the new Jerusalem. It
is all pictures, because John the seer is standing on tiptoes and trying to
grasp something of what it will be like.
All of this is hope.
But hope is not optimism.
Hope does not mean that we think it wil all work out in the end. Hope can be present even when we know it will
get worse. We do not hope because we
think it might get better, we hope because Jesus Christ is risen from the
dead. Christian hope comes from knowing
that God brings life out of death.
Nothing that can happen can change that.
God brings life from death. That
is the source of our hope.
So back to our groups on the tables. What do you hope for, for yourself, for these
churches and for Mickleover?
…
The third theme of the readings is prayer. But this is not ‘churchy’ praying. David Runcorn, who used to live not too far
from here, tells a story of someone leading intercessions in church for the
first time. There was a famine going on
in East Africa at the time, and the woman stood up and berated God for five
minutes about how he could allow this to happen. She sat down again to stunned silence from
the congregation. ‘Clearly,’ David
comments, ‘no-one had explained to her how we pray in church.’ He goes on to say, ‘I hope no-one ever
does.’ This is honest prayer, and too
often we allow our Sunday best to become a front so that we are much less
honest in prayer. But think of the
Psalms – if they weren’t in the Bible we would never allow anyone to use them
in prayer. The Psalms complain about God, they threaten violence, they are full
of doubt as well as faith. They are
honest, real prayers. How much better
would it be if our praying was that honest?
Prayer in this passage is about entering into the life of
God. When we pray ‘Abba, Father’ the
Spirit prays in us. That’s what Paul
tells us. And we do this every time we
pray the Lord’s Prayer. It is as we pray
that we are most truly the children of God.
And our groanings echo the groanings of creation and are taken up by the
Spirit who prays with ‘sighs too deep for words’. The Spirit prays within us, with us and for
us. Prayer is the language of God’s
life, and when we pray we join with the Spirit in the inner life of God the
Holy Trinity. So never, never think your
prayer is unimportant.
But that doesn’t mean prayer comes easily. I want to tell you about a morning when I
went into church to say my prayers. I
sat in my seat and put the prayer book onto the desk. That was as far as it got. Things were really hard for me, and all I
could do was to sit there and to say to God, this is hard. I could not say my prayers. But I sat there for half an hour, and as I
got up to go to the Parish Office I remember thinking, ‘That is enough.’ I had turned up, and I have offered the time
to God. The Spirit praying within me had
to do the rest, I was not able to do it.
But it was enough.
So on your tables, for the last time, I promise. Two questions. ‘What do you reach for, but find it hard to
pray for? Have you ever been unable to
pray?
…
So let me try to bring things together. This incredible passage from Romans 8 speaks
of the Spirit of God in terms of pain, hope and prayer. The Spirit is in it all. The Spirit shares our pain, and not just ours
but the pain of all creation. The Spirit
points to hope, hope for everything and everyone. And the Spirit prays in and through all of
this. The Spirit prays in and through
us.
So where might this take us?
It might take us to find the places of pain, because God is at work
there and we need to join in. It might
take us to sustaining our hope, not for the continuation of things as they are
but for the transformation of everything.
If might take us to be people of prayer, people who pray in the groans
of life and who allow the Spirit to pray in us.
People who value even our stuttering, tiny prayers as part of the life
of God.
First given at St John's, Mickleover 21.2.15
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