Be Aware and Choose

God of mind and spirit, of muscle and bone

We come together because we need you,

We need each other,

And we need to hear your word.

And if we hear it here, may we be so possessed by it

That we become servants of it out in your world.

We pray this in Christ, and though Christ, and because of Christ,

Amen.

If we are really trying to hear what the Spirit is saying to the Church, we have to

accept that the words of God do not always readily surrender their most useful

meanings for the time and the place in which we find ourselves. In this moment

and this place we are distracted and distressed, and in this we are not

special—distraction and distress are part of the deal in this world. But they differ in

one crucial way—distress requires help from outside ourselves, and distraction is

something we inflict upon ourselves. We rob ourselves of awareness, of any kind

of peace, by distracting ourselves quite deliberately. [WUID story] The problem

with this is that to get ourselves from this day to tomorrow and to every day after

that, we have to make a thousand choices, and to choose effectively we need to be

aware. Aware of the situation, the conditions, and the ramifications for those

around us when we make one choice or another. The awareness required to choose

well is, I think, the thread on which the most useful meaning of this morning’s

scripture hangs. So, I’m going to address all three readings—first the meeting of

the disciples with Lydia, then Christ’s promise of an Advocate, commonly called

the Holy Spirit, and then John of Patmos’ vision of the City of God. Together they

appear to form a kind of truth puzzle, where the big picture becomes clearer when

you fit all the pieces together. Assembling this puzzle requires us to look at things

that appear complicated and see that they are simple; not easy, but simple.

We heard this morning that after her baptism by Paul, Lydia says “If you are

convinced that I am a believer in Christ, please come and stay at my house,” which

is followed by the simple statement from Paul that “she prevailed on us.” Lydia is

identified as a dealer in purple cloth, which was highly prized and expensive. “My

house” may not denote actual ownership but even so it indicates headship; Lydia’s

status is dramatically higher than that of most women in the ancient Mediterranean

world. I only mention Lydia’s social status because Paul makes a point of doing so;

I guess prosperity and authority were linked as strongly then as they are now. But

Lydia’s status is not very interesting compared with her commitment to action, and

the Bible is replete with proactive women, including Sarah, Esther, Deborah, the

woman at the well, the Marys of the NT, and not all of them are high-status

individuals. They are women who act decisively and without prompting on their

conviction that God is doing something new and vitally important, who take action

while the men huddle together and worry. So Lydia is not just being

hospitable—she is taking charge of the situation, animating a decisive step towards

the coming of the Kingdom. Lydia heard, she believed, she chose to lift the people

who were right in front of her, and she didn’t take no for an answer. She squared

up, and understood that ‘If x is true, then I must do y,’ and she did it. Simple, but

not easy. Lydia is an example not just of faith put into action, but of a faith which

is action, faith as a verb, faith as something that you do. It is an example for us to

follow, even if we are surprised and a little resistant, as Paul seems to have been.

That’s big, and it could be enough for one Sunday, but we can’t stop there, because

today’s gospel gives us another piece of the truth puzzle.  The reading from John’

gospel gives us the promise that the “Advocate, the Holy Spirit. . .whom the Father

will send in my name, [will] remind you of all that I have said to you.” Our

translation gives us “advocate;” older translations use the word ‘Comforter,’

“Spirit of Truth,” and “Paraclete” but even as I know somehow that I am shaped

and driven and strengthened by the Holy Spirit, I’m still working on who is this

Advocate, and even though we don’t use the word as often as we used to, I’ve

wondered for years, what’s a Paraclete? I remember tripping over that word as a

boy when it appeared in a hymn. (All laud to the God the Father be, All praise,

eternal Son, to Thee; All glory, as is ever meet, To God the holy Paraclete.) I

thought it was just there to make a fancy rhyme. But it’s a real Greek word,

parakleitos, and it’s a great word because it appears to have had a legal usage,

referring to someone who is “called to the side of” the person who is standing trial

to “remind him” of what he might forget, in his distress. That’s pretty common

ground, isn’t it? That feeling of overwhelm, the fear and distress of not knowing

what is required of you in the time of trial. In John’s Gospel, a confused and

fearful disciple has asked, in essence, “what are we supposed to do without you?” I

imagine that it’s a question the clear-headed Lydia wouldn’t have needed to ask.

Christ’s’ answer Those who love me will keep my word, and . . .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. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give

to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled,

and do not let them be afraid. I suspect that last bit is the answer Lydia would have

given: that our task is simple: first, to do as the Lord has told us—to love each

other as we have been loved-- and second, to trust the counsel, comfort, and

advocacy that comes in the same package with those words, and then, to just relax.

Anyone living in these times knows that relaxing is not easy; but it is simple.

I don’t mean to be glib about the Holy Spirit, Christ’s message really is simple.

There’s peace to be had if you simply permit yourselves to accept it, it’s right

there, and it’s not just any peace, it’s not the world’s peace like the cup of tea on

the porch on an early summer evening, as nice as that is, it’s eternal peace, God’s

peace, and it’s yours because I’m giving it to you, so take it already; “Do not let

your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid, ” he says. There is a

distinct feeling in this moment that the disciples were a little crazy with fear and

not really thinking clearly, and just wanted a get-out-of-fear free card. Or, actually,

that they needed to live the situation as Lydia did: hear the call, answer the call,

accept the help, and let the good be good.

Not easy, but simple.

Then, the passage from the Revelation of John, in its way, completes the truth

puzzle. In the City of God, Nothing accursed will be found there any more. But the

throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will . . .l see his face. .

. And there will be no more night; they need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord

God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever. This description of the

heavenly city is the last new thing in the whole Bible; It’s the last thing we hear for

the first time. The call has been heard and heeded, and then, breathtakingly, John

sees that “night will be no more.” There will be more than a counselor, comforter,

or advocate, not just the spirit of truth but the Truth itself; there will be no need of

lamp or sun because God’s own light will shine forever. This vision is almost too

much to handle, but we can take it in if we look back at the anxious disciples who

knew that they were face to face with God, and were overwhelmed and didn’t

know what to do. They were paralyzed, in need of the Paraclete, the one who

comes to our side to remind us of what we already know, but which in our distress

we can’t quite remember at the moment. And then we might look back to Lydia,

who saw the way and set out on it with confidence.

Both Jesus and Lydia’s interactions with benighted followers of the Way are, for

me, persuasively real, and then the revelation of the Kingdom shows us the

destination of that Way. That’s three pieces of a puzzle, the peace that was and is

and is to come. And so what are we to do with this? All we can do, really, is be

aware with the help of the Advocate, and choose, which me must do intentionally,

without distraction and without the confusion that comes with it----We are living in

a moment where generosity is often seen as weakness, dignity and decency are

regarded as naïve, and trust is a liability. We have no choice but to live in that

world, but in Christ we have a way through it that is simple, though not easy, and

help when it’s difficult.  Like everybody, I don’t always choose the right words.

But I rejoice that– as promised—there is help when my words inflict difficulty on

myself and others; someone else finds the words I have needed. We can learn and

remember; lately I have embraced a frequent reminder to ‘Be still and know that I

am God,” and for years I have heard and re-heared CS Lewis’ declaration that “I

believe in Christ as I believe that the Sun has risen, not only because I see it, but

because by it, I see everything else.” Words like these, from a comforter or

counselor, are not ‘instead of’ scripture; they are that voice which comes to our

side in times of distraction and reminds us of what we already know.

We can hear that voice in the response of Lydia, who got it, and in Christ’s

response to the apostles, who didn’t quite get it yet, and in the vision of a heavenly

city awash in God’s light— which all together are a pretty good summary of how

God’s Universe works. And, perhaps, with patience, we can open ourselves to see

ourselves in Creation, to be aware and choose, with gladness and singleness of

heart.    

Amen.