Pentecost is a moment of empowerment. But what are we being empowered to do? We often use the confusion to avoid doing anything.
And the gospel of sharing
Pentecost | John 14:8-17 (25-27)
Woo! Here we go! Pentecost! This is it, People! It’s go time! The Spirit is here! It is time to rock!
Alright—don’t everyone talk at once! Or…wait…everyone talk at once!
Come on! Where’s everyone’s Spirit?
Yeah…it isn’t like that, is it? We’re in this room with the Spirit and she’s being pretty quiet, isn’t she? We’re not seeing tongues of fire right now. At least, we can’t bring them down on command, can we?
Nor can we open our mouths and find other languages coming out. Languages that are the languages of the others sharing this space. And why would we? We’re all English speakers here.
We aren’t re-enacting the Pentecost story. Just like we aren’t here to learn history exactly. We’re here to learn love and to receive the Spirit in her way.
A Perfect Reflection
This is why Philip’s question in the gospel is perfect for us. And, well, it’s not so much a question as a request.
Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.
John 14:8
He’s not asking for proof as a skeptic. But guidance as a student. It’s a bit of Just tell us what to do mixed with What’s going to be on the test?
We need to know the rules. The scope. What is to be expected.
And how satisfying is it to us when Jesus says stuff like Take up your cross and follow me? Most of us spend most of our lives debating what counts as taking up our cross. While parents are mourning the murder of their children others are like I had to stop at two red lights on the way here.
What are the rules, Teach? We want to ace this class. I’ll be satisfied if you just tell me now.
Which is totally a lie. We demand clarity and then ignore the rules we don’t like anyway. Just ask the Pious Young Man. You know, Mr. What Must I Do To Inherit Eternal Life? Jesus gives him an answer and he runs away crying. Then we read that story and buy more stuff so…
Less Clear
Clarity when we are totally confused is one thing. However, part of what we’re doing when we want clarity (just tell me what to do!) is to get a greater sense of certainty. Often our confusion doesn’t come from a lack of understanding. It comes from an assortment of options. And we sometimes don’t know which one to pick.
If a classmate is planning to cheat on a test, for instance, you don’t lack understanding. You aren’t struggling to come up with a single coherent idea. But you might be struggling with going along with them. Or telling the teacher. Or convincing them not to.
You may also be hearing from your parents that it is essential to get straight A’s. Or perhaps everyone in the class is cheating and you are likely to fail otherwise.
Our priorities are not half as ambiguous as we think they are. Because often we say we want honesty or to do the “right thing” but we also want to win.
Analysis Paralysis
Another thing is that we also like to collect data. We think this will always help us make the decision. Or more precisely, as if the data will make the decision for us. {glances at spreadsheets} Obviously it’s 42!
This, of course, never happens! We collect more data which then adds even more arguments to the cacophony of voices. We are far more likely to be victims of analysis paralysis than we are to suddenly have clarity.
Because we, like Philip, aren’t actually seeking clarity. We are avoiding responsibility. Of doing the things we need to do. Like asking the questions, deducing the right direction, and then making the first steps that will take us there.
Philip isn’t asking for clarification. He’s asking for the cheat sheet. He wants the answers to the test.
And Jesus calls him out for it. His response is essentially what have you been doing in class all semester? Like, dude, you have to do some of the work!
Right Answers
Of course, really faithful followers of Jesus, the star students—the ones who get so many gold stars—will come up with an answer. They’ll do the work.
Then what do they do? They tell their classmates their answer is the answer.
The work of being a student is to do the work and what are they doing? Telling others not to. Because they are giving it to them. A lot of people are running around with the secret to getting good grades from Jesus! Here, let me tell you what to do!
And all of us Philips are like Yes! And also No thanks to you, Jesus!
We’re obsessed with the answer and Jesus is saying it is all about the work.
Showing your work.
One last thing that ties us up.
Most of us have had some experience with a math class in which the teacher wants you to show your work. That’s the phrase we hear on repeat: show your work. And even when we just know the answer, we have to prove we know how to get there. Even when it is intuitive.
We must show the teacher the work we did. This is actually part of the assignment. We get points taken off if we don’t show our work. It isn’t just the answer, it is the work that gets us to the answer.
The teacher is trying to show us how valuable the work is. But what do we learn from this?
That we’re graded on everything!
So even when we know that work is the point, that it isn’t just about arriving at the “right” answer, we’re still obsessed with grades and ranking!
The point isn’t to get good grades from God. It is to be in God’s kin-dom now reflecting it out to the world.
The work
The thing about work is that it is the thing we do and it is also the reflection of the thing we do.
As much as getting a good grade isn’t the point, when we do know we’ve done something right, we give ourselves that pat on the back, don’t we? Jesus is, after all, suggesting that God’s grace can be known through our works, so we should care, right? We should want our work to be the best we have to offer so that it reflects our love.
For us to be known by our love, then shouldn’t our love reflect God’s perfect love?
Of course.
So should we be grading each other’s imperfect love? Nope.
We’re here to do what we are called to do: the work of love. We aren’t each other’s teachers; obliged to grade the work of others.
It’s to do the work hoping that others can see the grace of God in it.
The work is the work.
Greater Works than Jesus
Jesus flat out says that the job his followers are supposed to do is literally what he does.
Then he doubles down on it, saying that his followers will do greater works than that. Because he’s going to the Father.
We aren’t just called to do Jesus stuff. We’re supposed to 10x Jesus.
And if we’re thinking with that other mind about perfection and works and grading and doing things the “right” way, we’re bound to hear that as impossible. More pursuing perfection garbage.
But if we’re of a different mind…if we’re thinking about reflecting the incredible love we receive…and we’re thinking about this as community rather than individuals…if we are seeking to share love with those around us…doesn’t that turn our expectation on its head?
Doesn’t love look more lovely? More potent? More possible? Because we are striving to meet the needs people actually have?
If Jesus’s work is the work, how do we help each other work?
We aren’t striving to be better than Jesus. We’re striving to be like Jesus. The Spirit does the work of multiplying it. So let’s all let that one go. Focus on the work itself.
And I suspect we can all share how we learn best. When people describe a thing and then give us room to explore, for instance.
And we can name what doesn’t help. Like shame and tearing us down.
We could also look at how Jesus teaches. He uses the kind of active learning model today’s educators advocate. With its three parts: learning, acting, and reflecting. Collecting students who learn from him, do what he does, and reflect on what they’ve done. They grow and learn from the whole process.
That’s literally where we start. Seeing ourselves as those students: gathering to learn and do and reflect. Students and teachers and journalers or poets or therapists or wherever your reflecting takes you. Taking you beyond the work that Jesus could.
Taking your students where they can learn and do and reflect.
Because we have something great to offer the world. A generous grace you can’t find anywhere else. One that needs you. That grows with you. Changes because of you. A grace that isn’t just for you. But for everyone. And it needs us to share it.