Sunday, May 1, 2016

Jesus dwells with us ever more openly – John 14:23-29, Rev 21:10-14, 22-23

Easter, Year C, Week 6; FWSB TV Mass for the homebound and incarcerated.

I used to be really jealous of the people who had known Jesus during his earthly ministry; the zeroth generation of disciples, if you like.  The fact that they got to walk and talk with Jesus, to converse, to eat, to hunger… to interact with him in the same way as we interact when presented with any other regular living human.  But, as time has gone on, I’ve become more and more appreciative of living in this time, the time of the first, second, third… whatever number generation we’re on of being disciples, the time of the church. 


For this is the time when the Spirit has been sent us.  This is the time when the Spirit dwells with us, dwells in us, closer to the center of our hearts than we are to ourselves.  God has poured out upon us the gift of the Spirit, not a gift frail and forgetful like ourselves; the gift is the giver: in the Spirit God is tenderly and powerfully present to us, even more intensely than Jesus was with his disciples in the flesh almost 2,000 years ago, speaking to them of this gift that was to come in the upper room.

Jesus said, “we will come to you;” the Spirit’s presence is the fullness of the presence of Christ, the fullness of the presence of God the Father, enlivening and sanctifying the hearts of all who welcome Him in love.  It’s a gift given in baptism and strengthened in confirmation, and it’s glorious, but sometimes it’s not very obvious.

Sometimes we can articulate very clearly that we know how close God is to us, but He doesn’t feel close, in fact he feels rather distant.  And sometimes there’s something we can do about that; sometimes it’s as simple as opening up our spiritual mouths and taking a deep breath full of the Spirit in whom we dwell, asking in prayer.  Sometimes, there’s something clogging our airways, some sin to be cleansed of, and that asking in prayer takes the form of confession and reconciliation.  But, we will always find a limit, we will always find that our awareness of God’s presence is less vibrant than its reality.  And it is painful, sometimes terribly so, but righteous to experience that distance as longing.  In this life, God’s presence and action in our lives is always somewhat hidden.  We see by dawn’s first light, and we long for fullness of day.

And one of the resources God has given us to sustain us in our longing is the gift of hope which is nourished by the vision of the future that we heard in our reading from the book of Revelation.  We heard tell of the city which is to come, in which God will dwell with His peoples, and there will be no hiddenness.  The walls will be transparent.  In this almost unimaginable world that is to come, the walls will be at once beautiful jasper, in fact more beautiful, and transparent as glass, in fact more transparent.  We will gaze at God with nothing to obstruct our view, and feel his lasting embrace with no barrier to dull our touch.  One of the options for our funeral rite looks forward to this day in these words: “For seeing you, our God, as you are, we shall be like you for all the ages and praise you without end.”  That perfect sight of God which is to come will transform us into His likeness.  Any impatience we feel with ourselves for not growing holier quicker will be gone.



The reading told us that there will be no Temple in that eternal city; we won’t need one.  But now we do.  Now, we need things, people, places, set aside, dedicated to remind us of God’s presence of which we can so easily be forgetful.  We need sacraments, we need to join with our fellow Christians in worship.  And so many of you who are watching this Mass on television are deprived of that, through illness, infirmity or incarceration.  I pray that you can find signs and symbols of the reality of God’s presence in your lives, because we need those as humans, social, embodied creatures.  Watching Mass on television can never do for us what physically participating in one in church can.  So, for those of you who are deprived of that possibility by circumstance, know that that Church gets how hard this is for you.  You are distant from us in body, you are foremost in our prayers, and we long for the day when we will stand shoulder to shoulder, saints among saints in the halls of heaven, praising the Lamb forever.

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