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…and by the Coming of the Holy Spirit,  Good Lord, deliver us.

John 16:1-7:  16 “All this I have told you so that you will not fall away. 2 They will put you out of the synagogue; in fact, the time is coming when anyone who kills you will think they are offering a service to God. 3 They will do such things because they have not known the Father or me. 4 I have told you this, so that when their time comes you will remember that I warned you about them. I did not tell you this from the beginning because I was with you, 5 but now I am going to him who sent me. None of you asked me, ‘Where are you going?’ 6 Rather, you are filled with grief because I have said these things. 7 But very truly I tell you, it is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.  19 On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” 20 After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord. 21 Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” 22 And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” (John 19:19-22, NIV)

Many years ago when I was first on Young Life staff, I accompanied my father to have his heart examined at the former Baptist Hospital in Knoxville. For some reason, the diagnostic operating rooms and labs were in the sub-basements of the hospital. Although the hospital at that time sat on a bluff on the Tennessee River, it felt like these rooms were so deep as to be below the river. The waiting room there was dim, damp and chilly. I sat there alone awaiting the results of my father’s angiogram.

We knew there were some blockages, and heart surgery was looming, but I never expected the bad news the surgeon brought me. He came into the room, very somber and showed me the amazing and sobering picture of my father’s heart. There were over a dozen black spots,  looking as if his heart had been blasted by mini-shotgun pellets. These were the blockages, some partial, some complete, in the blood vessels of his heart. It was the picture of a soon to be realized death sentence. The doctor left the room, and told me I could wait there until my dad was out of post-op and  in a room.

I sat back down in that dim tomb-like place, quiet, numb and broken. I finally sighed and said a small prayer: “Where are you, God ? Where are you in all this?”  No sooner had I prayed, the doors burst open and over a half-dozen Young Life staffers from across the region burst in. They surrounded me with hugs, prayers and hope. A little voice then spoke into my soul:” I’m here, and here and here and here, you are not alone.” His presence was with me and in the hearts of my friends. He was as real in that moment as I have ever known, and His peace washed over me.

The visit from my friends was brief and they had to go, but it was enough for me at that dark moment. Soon after, the word came that my father would be in a room very shortly and I could leave the dungeon. Just as I was preparing to leave, the door opened again and an older distinguished black man entered, slowly and it seemed with some sadness. He was also very familiar for I had read his books and seen his mini-series.

“Hello”  he said.  “Hello Mr. Hailey.” I responded with some awe: “How are you sir ?” He smiled and sighed, “Well, I’m here to have my old heart looked at. Do you have someone here ?” Alex Hailey, the author of Roots , was kind enough to ask about me. My voice caught a bit, “Yes sir, my father, and we have some bad news to deal with.” He smiled, shook my hand and said, “Well, I’ll pray for him.” I smiled back and replied, “ And I will pray for you ! “ His sadness seemed to lift at that moment and I left, hopefully leaving a bit of my peace with him.

At that intimate, holy and mysterious moment, when we ask Jesus to be our Lord and Savior and take over our hearts, mind and souls, we receive the Holy Spirit.  From that moment on, we are not alone. Never. The Holy Spirit’s presence is never absent, no matter our circumstances or what we are feeling. He is as close to us as our next breath.  When we realize that, we can share the Hope within us with everyone, no matter their circumstance, or ours. My father passed on to glory a few weeks after that day, and I walked through the grief and loss of his death, sad to be sure, but with a prevailing hope and peace in the presence of Jesus.

Peace. Phil Parsons

* * * * *

From Rodger:

I fear that I might succumb to one of my most repetitive tendencies here; a theological dive deep into the weeds that quickly devolves into what some of my congregation call my “Geek Out” moments.  But if there were ever a part of God and Christianity that is less understood – or more distorted by some – it’s the entire understanding of the Holy Spirit.  So, I throw out a few parcels of food for thought, in no particular order.

Gender?  Granted, all gender specific language is insufficient to  speak of God.  But our custom is using God the Father, God the Son (which, of course is appropriate because, to my knowledge, no one has ever claimed that Jesus came and dwelt among us a woman!), and God the Holy Spirit, who is sometimes referred to in the old-school language, Holy “Ghost.”  While granting that the Gospel of John, in all five instances where the  word “paraclete” (παράκλητος) appears in reference to the Holy Spirit, John chooses to use the masculine pronoun (or at least translators and commentators over the centuries have defaulted to “he / him” here), the very translation of the word lends itself to feminine qualities:  Our “helper,” our “advocate,” our “comforter.”  All of these come from the literal translation of paraclete,” which is “called alongside” or “one who is called to one’s aid.”  Here I am indulging myself, and admitting that I almost always use the feminine gender when I refer to the Holy Spirit.  “She” just seems to fit the agency in my own life when God’s presence and guidance is needed on a very personal level and when I experience that presence and guidance in a very intimate way.

I often give the following, totally un-theological reasoning when questioned about this.  I am from North Carolina, and despite the ongoing heresy to label our state the “Tar Heel” state, the oldest and most accurate description is that we are the “Old North State.”  And a part of our heritage as such is the fact that in North Carolina folklore, we are somewhat famous (at least in our own minds) for our ghost stories.  One of the most famous and oft-repeated ghost stories is that of “Lydia,” a young woman dressed in a diaphanous white gown, believed to be a spirit seeking help after a tragic train accident near a bridge in Jamestown, NC, where she is said to appear on rainy or foggy nights, trying to flag down passing motorists, waving an old railroad lantern.  Two things are usually included in the story.  One, she is always – ALWAYS – described as beautiful, young, alluring, almost siren-like.  And two, somehow it’s always known that she died in the accident that led to her “haunting’ this particular bridge.

Here’s my connection – often leading to rolling eyes or shakes of the head when I connect Lydia to the Holy Spirit.  First, she is a ghost:  We call the 3rd person of the Trinity a ghost.  Second, she is incredibly alluring, attractive, almost mesmerizing as she calls us into her presence.  All sexual innuendo aside, can we not think of a better way to describe the attractiveness of God’s Spirit, calling us into communion with her?  and Third is simply the symmetry involved.  Father, Son, and “MOTHER” Holy Spirit?  Does the image not settle into your mind and heart in a very comforting way?   Akin to both Isaiah’s and Paul’s imagery of God as a nursing mother?  (Isaiah 49:15 & 66:13, and 1st Thessalonians 2:7.)

You might well be among those “rolling eyes” and this moment, but I cannot adequately describe the tender power this image holds for me as I experience God’s spirit comforting, nurturing, and guiding me.  (Oddly enough?  My personal experience always connect God’s discipline with the masculine nature of God the father, but enough of my ongoing Oedipal issues – we can judge my therapeutic progress at another time!)  This isn’t heavy theology for me.  It’s a simple outgrowth of God giving me both the desire and the ability to free my mind and expand my notion of what walking this life of faith is and is all about!  (Which is why I fully believe that reductionistic Christianity is a death sentence; putting on the narrow blinders that far too many insist must be a part of our faith journey, means equating discipleship with only their particular, narrow rut – and a rut like that is nothing more than a grave with both ends kicked out.

Enough of all this particular food for thought;  if it gets you to ponder God the Holy Spirit in a diaphanous white gown – regardless of whether that image is life-giving to you or not – then it’s served its purpose.

One other little tidbit:  Phil said above: “At that intimate, holy and mysterious moment, when we ask Jesus to be our Lord and Savior and take over our hearts, mind and souls, we receive the Holy Spirit.” I hope you were paying attention at that moment.  Because the implications of that statement (which is Biblically correct despite those claiming that Pentecost in Act. chapter 2 is the normative experience of the Holy Spirit – see John 20: 22 here) are actually larger and more defining than we may think.  Because that means an entire slice of Christian experience is essentially inaccurate.  I’m talking about the charismatic / pentecostal idea that, unless a person has received a SECOND baptism – the baptism of the Spirit – and has shown evidence of that baptism by speaking in tongues, then that person is not a spirit-filled Christian.  And at the risk of calling out entire denominations on this point; if their theological presuppositions include such a mandate, then they are completely wrong, cannot be supported Biblically, and are best (IMO) discarded.

When we speak of “hedge  prayers” – prayers of either protection or containment, sometimes that also needs to include the “hedge” of direction and guidance.  God, keep us from wandering down the wrong theological paths by building a hedge in front and to one side, with the only way “out” being the direction in which God desires us to go.  That’s not a violation of free will, by the way;  we aren’t rats in some kind of morbid, spiritual maze.  It’s simply recognizing that we are incomplete, broken, and incapable of seeing the entire “picture” of eternity the way God does.

See what I meant earlier?  I fear that I’ve gone and done it again!  Time to resurface from the theological weeds and end this particular episode of “Geeking Out!”  (There will be others; count on that.)