Christopher Thomas
Sermon for Day of Pentecost, Year A – 5/31/20
Acts 2:1-21
Psalm 104:25-35, 37
1 Corinthians 12:3b-13
John 20:19-23
Breathe on me, Breath of God,
fill me with life anew,
that I may love as you have loved,
and do as you would do.
– Edwin Hatch (1835-1889)
Spiration.
Breathe in, breathe out.
The root of life. The source of life. The wind-swept wave from above that shattered the dark, formless void in the moments even before light.
Breathe in, breathe out.
“…next the Creator formed humanity from the dirt and dust of the ground, and then spirated the breath of life.”
Chronos, human time, is bounded, then, now, and always, by spiration.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Spirations, therefore, must be holy moments, right? Transitions in, and transitions out.
From that very first spiration, when a babe is “inspired” to life with a slap on the rear, to the last gasp, that final “expire,” when breath leaves out one final time, and dust returns back to dust, everything in between is what? What is that time called, sisters and brothers?
Spiration.
The heavenly, holy breath of life, filling your lungs and mine, with life-giving spirit for that time known as Chronos, the bookends of “inspire” and “expire.”
For of all things which we might disagree, it seems that the one all humanity could and should agree upon is that breath surely must be divine, from somewhere outside of ourselves, for how could we possibly “spiriate” our own selves into being? To risk the ridiculous, we couldn’t slap our own butts, so to speak!
And so, what do we do, dear friends, with this holy time between “inspire” and “expire,” the time that Creator so generously breathes the breath of life into the lungs of creation, and we breathe out, a most delicate dance of lovers across time, and across space?
It occurs to me that on this day of Pentecost, the day we celebrate thanksgiving to God for the gift of life and breath, the many gifts of the Holy Spirit coming among us as advocate and guide, that we might pay some attention to this dance of spiration. When we’re given a gift, in addition to being thankful for the gift, we should also be thoughted and intentional about how we are going to use the gift, not simply assuming that we will always have the gift (because we know at some point we won’t!)
Spiration.
How might we spirate in our time between “inspire” and “expire,” our first and last breath, in ways that honor the gift of life?
Think about this…
Inspire. Aspire. Conspire. Transpire.
Inspire – breathe into one’s mind a good idea
Aspire – breathe toward a goal, a hope
Conspire – breathe together to bring about (that goal, or hope, or good idea)
Transpire – breathe across something to make it happen
Inspire. Aspire. Conspire. Transpire.
Spiration.
Now there’s something Jesus can work with!
When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where they habitated were locked out of FEAR, Jesus went through the door (don’t miss that), and said, “Peace be with you.” Breathe into one’s mind a good idea. Inspire.
And after he showed them, he again SAID to them, “Peace be with you.” Breathe toward a goal, a hope, of peace. Aspire.
“As God has sent me, so I send you.” Let’s breathe together, all of us, now, to bring about God’s plan, God’s hopes and dreams for peace, a new, healed world. Conspire!
“Receive the Holy Spirit! If you forgive sins of many, they are forgiven. If you retain sins, they are retained.” Breathe across God’s plans to bring those plans to life! Transpire.
Inspire. Aspire. Conspire. Transpire.
We should be able to do this, right?
For, after all, what was Jesus doing, that night, so long ago, in that upper room, but spirating, bringing life back to those who were so fearful that they were about to lose their lives, that they very nearly stopped breathing. I know that when I am fearful, I quite often have to be reminded to breathe, because I really do forget. We take spiration for granted.
But Jesus, what are you spiriating when you say “Peace?” Maybe that first time, it’s about dispelling fear, inspiring calm, the presence of quiet and rest, everyone agreeing, and getting along. But I think you’re just getting everyone’s attention, slapping the rear to get everyone to breathe again. “Remember, God is God, empire is not!”
Real peace, the peace that passes all understanding, the peace that I leave with you, sisters and brothers, that second time, is attached to aspirations, hopes projected into the future, much, much grander! “Empire doesn’t control who is forgiven and who is not! You, in the name of the God who sent me, and now the Holy Spirit, God, is the one who is the ultimate arbiter! And God is empowering you to go out and mission in God’s great name!”
Real peacemaking, after all, is scary stuff! It’s what got our Jesus killed! Threaten empire and see what happens. Seriously.
Remember how quickly the shouts of “Hosanna” turned to “Crucify him!” Those spirations came from us, not them. We all want to turn back to Egypt, to empire, when our perceived peace gets threatened. It’s human nature. “I may not have it all, but I want to protect what I have, the rung up that I’ve gotten.” “Making bricks wasn’t so bad after all!”
Jesus knew we’d need an advocate, a Paraclete, that person to stand up and witness for us, on our behalf, because he knew, he’d seen and witnessed for himself, how easy it is to turn back to Egypt. Jesus begs God on our behalf for just this guardian, guide and stay, this breath that would and will forever sustain us when the headwinds of empire resistance want to push back against God’s plan.
How does that great plan get spirated, by me, by you and I by we? Who are we, simple brick-makers slogging through the time between “inspire” to “expire,” to “forgive the sins of many, and retain the sins of others?” Well, in John’s gospel, sin has little, if anything to do with moral transgression, and everything to do with relationship to and with God. Sin connotes relationship to God, and forgiving and not forgiving, for us, has everything to do with fostering relationships between God and all of God’s creation, bringing those relationships into proper alignment. That’s something that empire is not interested in; as a matter of fact, it is threatened by it, so much so that it will “strike back,” as we see, even now.
Empire is striking back all around us, just taunting us to go back to our brick-making.
Did you see it?
When that knee went into George Floyd’s neck as the breath of life escaped his body, empire said “Get back to your bricks. This is not your affair!”
When white vigilantes decided to chase an unarmed Armaud Arbery down a tree-lined suburban street and gun him down, taking the breath of life from his body, in the name of a “citizen’s arrest,” empire said “Get back to your bricks. This is not your affair!”
When Breonna Taylor, or Atatiana Jefferson, or Botham Jean are innocently lounging in their own homes, and are gunned down by police, completely unannounced, and those lives are now gone forever, empire says, “We have bricks for you to make, get busy!”
When innocent children in school houses around this country cannot be educated without first having active shooter drills, and we want to have rational conversation about gun control, empire says “Get back to those bricks!”
I could go on, and on, and on with the many examples of how empire does not want to hear Jesus say, “Peace be with you.” But I will not, because you know these things as well as I.
And you know the mission that Jesus has left us every bit as well as I.
Let me be absolutely crystal clear what empire is.
EMPIRE IS PRIVILEGE!
Systems of socio-economic injustice that keep certain people oppressed while raising others up.
Privilege.
You want an advocate. Well, be an advocate!
Inspire. Aspire. Conspire. Transpire.
Now, you may be thinking that those 18 years that I spoke of just four months ago, those 18 years that you and I could potentially share together here at St. Thomas the Apostle that seemed at once so fleeting, may now be beginning to draw out into what feels like possibly an infinity. Because when you begin to speak of discomfort, and mission, and peace-making, time begins to draw out in ways that are not nearly as pleasant. Because the hard work of mission, the peace-making work that Jesus has left us to do, is both life-giving, and ultimately life-taking.
We breathe in and out, and each and every one of those spirations, those holy, divine moments, those ins-and-outs is a complete and total gift from God our creator. We are not guaranteed the very next one.
However, we can do everything in our power, and Jesus expects us to do everything in our power, while we are taking those holy spirations to insure that everyone else and the rest of creation have that very same life opportunity.
I am here to tell you that we’re going to spend the next 18 years inspiring, and aspiring, and conspiring, and transpiring to do just that.
And on the day that we expire, we will hopefully be able to hear God say,
“Well done, good and faithful servant!”
Amen!
