Infinite Love
“Infinite Love”
Acts 7:55-60 John 14:1-14
Fifth Sunday of Easter, Year A, May 10, 2020
First Presbyterian Church of Sandpoint, Idaho
Andrew Kennaly, Pastor
In 2017 my wife and I went to Ireland as part of a three month Sabbatical. Visiting Ireland, like Glenstal Abbey near Limerick, and Glendalough, south of Dublin in the Wicklow Mountains, set the tone for spiritual journey and Sabbath rest. Glendalough is a national park now, featuring a museum, restored ruins of a monastery, and many walking trails around the inspiring hillsides and two lovely lakes. The cemetery is old, yet still active as historic Ireland and the present day merge together because they’ve never separated; one leads into the other seamlessly, and one informs the other experientially.
We had lots of experiences over the three months, several once-in-a-lifetimes all crammed together. Visiting Ireland set the tone for the rest of the Sabbatical, giving a grounding, a perspective. Glendalough, for example, gave a foundational energy that seemed to come from St. Kevin, who lived around the year 600, as a hermit, claiming a cave along the shore of the lake. He chose a harsh lifestyle as part of his acetic practice, yet his wisdom and popularity attracted others. A Christian monastery influenced by Celtic perspectives grew up around him, and pilgrims from Europe came there to learn and find peace. Lingering at St. Kevin’s bench, walking the trails, absorbing the silence of the lake; the fact that he was there in the 600’s and we were there in 2017 seem like less of a time gap and more of a spiritual connection.
The meaning I discovered through reflection on our visit to Glendalough is that simply by living life we can cultivate, an openness, becoming aware of our surroundings, inviting God into our heart space and trusting that Presence. Like St. Kevin discovered, the contemplative journey invites participation with that Great Cloud of Witnesses; the Living Christ invites us through Resurrection Faith deeper into Love that has no beginning and no end; and we, like all things, reflect eternal qualities of divinity beyond any perceived limitations of time and space.
We see these dynamic shared through the scriptures this morning. In Acts 7, Stephen becomes the first Christian martyr. We notice that he is “filled with the Holy Spirit” as he gazes “into heaven” and sees “the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God.” Stephen’s vision shows Reality, unfiltered. Those around him maintain their filters. They don’t see the vision. They reject his words, “covering their ears.” Defending their limited vision, they drag him out of the city, out of their place, their protected boundaries. They kill Stephen by throwing rocks at him, called stoning. Yet this horrific scene, this tragedy of violence and the limitations of egoic thinking, has Resurrection written all over it.
For one, Saul is involved, and we learn later that Saul has a conversion and becomes known as Paul. This oppressor becomes an Apostle, sharing Christ with the world. And also, Stephen reflects the death of Jesus by forgiving his enemies, entrusting his spirit to God, and he dies. Like Jesus, this death is a transformation, a change from one form to another, which is the archetypal nature of resurrection faith, which is the way of everything.
But one thing we need to notice is the lack of fear. The text says nothing about terror or fear, rather it focuses on a vision shared in the heart of Stephen, and in God’s Presence, in that heart space, fear is not the focus. While on the one hand, there are people rushing together, he’s grabbed, dragged, and beaten to death, his focus is on a very calming vision of loving Presence, one he shares, even with his oppressors as he loves his enemies.
How do we get to that point? How do we not let fear get the best of us? How do we love our enemies, where does that love come from?
Looking at John’s Gospel, this passage begins with “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” How do we get there? The next line has a suggestion, but we often misread it. As Jesus says, “Believe in God, believe also in me,” we tend to say this as a mental activity, of assent, of agreement, or as rational ideas or church doctrines we can align with in cognitive ways. But the word “believe” is not so much a mental word as it is an experiential word. “Trust” might be a more direct translation. Our use of the word ‘trust’ is not only a mind thing, but a heart thing, a soul connection; a dynamic that moves us beyond scientific methodology, the need for proof, and into mystery, the spiritual categories of vision, relationship, vulnerability, and interdependence.
How we get to the point where we can live without our hearts getting troubled is by awakening to the reality that we’re already at that point, that God is, was, always shall be, Present. Jesus even uses that “I am” identity of God, the Great “I am.” He says, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” God is the way to God, and God is continually drawing us, in Christ, to God’s self.
Rather than a message of exclusiveness or arrogant assumptions or limitations, Jesus is giving encouragement; simply reminding the disciples that God Almighty, the great “I am” is in relationship, fully available, and trustworthy. God’s Reality is creatively unfolding.
We hear the roundabout conversation as Jesus says, “I am in the Father and the Father is in me;…the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me.” This is relational language, based on unity. As John shares Jesus, he’s talking about Christ. As we hear about Christ, the archetype of our faith, we hear about ourselves, because we, in Christ, are in relationship with God, who is in us, and we are in God, just like Jesus was talking about to the disciples. The eternal energy that holds and describes this dynamic we usually call, “Love.” God is Love.
Experiencing the depths of life means diving deep into the nature of love. This dynamic is shared as Jesus says that those who trust in Jesus, which is Christ, will do even greater works than Jesus because he is going to the Father. He says, “I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”
Most of the church assigns these words to a heavenly, separate interpretation. Jesus is viewed as being in heaven, some other place, usually above us through a three-tiered universe approach; he’s whispering into the ear of God, pleading on our behalf. If you have Jesus, it’s like having an insider pulling strings for you. But this is not a helpful vision, and it certainly isn’t the point of Stephen’s vision, or Paul’s, or what John intends. What is it that humanity asks of Jesus? What is it the disciples ask Jesus to reveal?
“Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” That is the human desire, proof that God exists. Philip is the one who asks this right after Jesus shares a unitive statement about how in knowing him, we know God, because God is in all things, through Christ. “Lord, show us the Father” is not only from Philip, but he’s the stand-in. Humanity wants to see God.
This gets into worldview, which is not just our attitudes, but worldview is how we see and experience life. It’s not what we see, it’s how we see it. Richard Rohr is helpful in his book The Universal Christ as he gives us four worldviews that most people “look out from or look through” as they interpret life. (Richard Rohr, The Universal Christ, How a Forgotten Reality Can Change Everything We See, Hope For, and Believe, Center for Action and Contemplation, Convergent Books, New York, Appendix 1, pp. 237-241).
One he calls the “material worldview.” Another he calls the “spiritual worldview.” A third he calls the “priestly worldview.” The fourth is the “incarnational worldview.” The terms hint at their main point. You can guess the material worldview believes “the outer, visible universe is the ultimate and ‘real’ world. [leading to] to science, engineering, medicine, much of “what we now call ‘civilization.’” He says, “a material worldview tends to create highly consumer-oriented and competitive cultures, which are often preoccupied with scarcity, since material goods are always limited.”
Another worldview, “the spiritual worldview recognizes “spirit, consciousness, the invisible world behind all manifestations.” Many “religions, including much of Christianity [maintain] the reality of the spiritual world.” The downside is, that those who are heavenly-minded can be of no earthly good. If you think that this life is just boot camp for the next, then you tend not to treat the earth too well, or other people, so justice suffers as this world is largely seen as illusion.
The priestly worldview involves generally “sophisticated, trained, and experienced people and traditions […who] feel their job is to help us put matter and Spirit together. They are the holders of the law, the scriptures, and the rituals; […] gurus, ministers, therapists, […] sacred communities [all helping] us make good connections that are not always obvious between the material and the spiritual worlds. But the downside is that this view assumes that the two worlds are actually separate and need someone to bind them back together” as people become religious co-dependents or consumers. The priestly worldview “describes what most of us think of as organized religion and much of the self-help world.”
Rohr then present that fourth worldview, which is the one he claims as his preferred angle. “The incarnational worldview, in which matter and Spirit are understood to have never been separate. [… They] reveal and manifest each other.” He says, “This view relies more on awakening than joining, more on seeing than obeying, more on growth in consciousness and love than on clergy, experts, morality, scriptures, or rituals. The code word […] is simply ‘Christ.’” Incarnation is the word that describes God’s participation, “God’s loving union with all of creation from the beginning [in and through Christ].” The downside is, if you lean toward the incarnational worldview, the other three worldviews often have a problem with this.
Resurrection Faith leads us deeper into love, through a heart-felt trust, experientially opening to connection, relationship, and unity that is always there, inviting us to recognize and claim our true Self in Christ. Learning to be present in the present, open to the Presence, is the practice of living in Christ, as one with God as God is one with all things.
“Do not let your hearts be troubled” because Jesus has given us what we need, what we ask, what we desire at the depths of our soul. This is a vision of God, Love poured out, life transformed. Jesus shows us unbreakable Unity. Through the vulnerability of death on a cross, in dying, Jesus courageously takes fear to the grave. In rising, the Living Christ sets us free. The energy of uniting love permeates through time, space, and all creatures great and small, and in each moment we are connected with Love that has no end; Love as the framework of Reality. Our calling is to trust this Love, even as Jesus invites us to follow this Way of Love into the heart of God, because we are always held in that very heart.
This is not an easy journey, dying to ourselves, learning to let go of ego-limitations and self-referential thinking, especially in the midst of a narcissistic culture. As Jesus dies on the cross, and Stephen is killed, both are taken out of the city; both are marginalized by the mainstream; and both give up everything because nothing but infinite Love can adequately respond to infinite Love. It is God in us calling us to God’s self. As we open to this calling, may the humble, vulnerable love of God continue leading us to greater awareness to what Christ is doing in our midst, even as we are held by grace that knows no end, both NOW, and forever. Amen.