Third Sunday after Pentecost, rcl yb c, 2022
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14; Psalm 77:1-2, 11-20; Galatians 5:1, 13-25; Luke 9:51-62
There is no law against such things
Last week I had the opportunity to do something I’ve never really done before. I was at a commission meeting in South Dakota, where, over the space of four days or so, I’ve probably never eaten so much beef in my life!
But that’s not the new opportunity I’d like to talk about. At the appointment of the Most Reverend Josiah Atkins Idowu-Fearon the General Secretary of the Anglican Communion, I went to South Dakota as a member of IPAC, the International Pentecostal-Anglican Commission. Me and a small handful of Anglicans from around the world met with a small handful of Pentecostals from around the world. And over the next five-year period, we will work together on a shared statement about some things that Anglicans and classical Pentecostals can agree about. Holiness is the topic we will be discussing. It was a lot of work, but also a lot of fun, and I’m pretty sure I’ve made a number of new friends.
There was a time in ecumenical dialogue when the hope of the reunification of the churches was very high. And in some places, it happened—the Church of South India, in 1947, united Anglicans, Presbyterians, Congregationalists, and Methodists into one church with one structure.
Since then, however, the hope for a visible unity of this sort has waned a bit in the face of great difficulty; it’s become harder and harder to find ways of unifying church structures across denominations.
Even the full communion that Anglicans and Lutherans share in Canada, as important as that is even to us at St. John’s through the years, and now—full communion means that Anglicans and Lutherans can share pastors and priests, and this has meant we’ve been able to enjoy the ministry of many Lutheran members of the clergy here— as important as this full communion is, we still have the Lutheran Bishop Michael Pryse’s office down the street,
and Anglican Bishop Todd Townsend’s office down the 401 in London, both of them taking oversight of churches in Kitchener-Waterloo. As close as Anglicans and Lutherans have come, that’s not quite the fullness of unity, is it.
So the hopes of the kind of dialogue I’m a part of now are a lot more cautious. But this has opened opportunities, too. Churches that are very, very different from one another can enter into dialogue in a receptive sort of way. Anglicans and Mennonites are in dialogue in Canada, and will release a statement very soon. As different as we are, Anglicans and Mennonites can agree to many things. Even Anglicans and Pentecostals from around the world, can gather too, without assuming anything about whether there would necessarily be a kind of institutional unity in the near future.
So as we pray that in God’s time the church might be one, in the meantime we can gather in order to learn from one another—as Anglicans, we can be curious about what we might learn from Pentecostals about holiness; and Pentecostals can come together with some curiosity about when they might learn from Anglicans about holiness.
There was something particular that I learned in my conversation with Pentecostals last week that comes to mind as I read the lesson from Galatians. Pentecostals call it “tarrying at the altar.” Tarrying, like waiting, but waiting with purpose and hope. What Pentecostals mean when they speak about “tarrying at the altar” is that there are times when you wait, and wait, and wait, for the gift of the Spirit to show in your life—usually, for Pentecostals, waiting to speak in tongues.
Part of me could really relate to that—though not because I’m waiting to speak in tongues but because it captures something about the Christian life. Sometimes we do all we can do, and after that, there’s nothing left to do, but wait, to wait with purpose, to wait in hope, to wait on God, to wait on God to move, that finally, though we might be out of energy for any more effort, we wait with the confidence that God will move among us.
Sometimes we tarry at the altar as we wait for God to move, for the Spirit to move, and make a change in our lives as individuals; sometimes we tarry at the altar as we wait for God to move, for the Spirit to move, and make a change in the church, for the Spirit to come alive in our life together, the Spirit of justice and institutional transformation.
While we wait, we tarry, and wait with purpose and hope, and not alone; we tarry at the altar, in nearness to where we know God is at work in Christ and in the power of the Spirit.
Here.
And not long from now, either.
What I love about this reading from Galatians especially is when Paul writes “There is no law against such things.” There is no law against what There is no law, for Paul, against the “fruits of the Spirit.” And what are these fruits of the Spirit? They are “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”
It’s actually kind of encouraging, really; even as the church as an institution continues to remind us just how fallen it is, not only unable to find the unity of Christ, but caught up often in destructive habits of leadership; even as others, sometimes even those closest to us, fail us; that is, even as we tarry at the altar, even as we wait upon God to finally act and clean this mess up already! Even as we tarry at the altar, the people of God will live because our God is a living God.
Even as we tarry at the altar, waiting for God to transform all these fallen things, including us!, “[t]here is” still “no law against such things” as “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” These are the fruits of the Spirit, the Spirit in which we are already baptised; a Spirit shared amongst all believers in Jesus, a Spirit shared in the church, poured into our hearts as God’s own people.
And against the fruits of this Spirit there is no law, no regulation, and no rule; and no broken institution or relationship, that necessarily hinders with their exercise.
There is no law against such things as the gifts of the Spirit.
Instead these gifts are given in freedom, a freedom earned for us by Christ; a freedom given to us by Christ; and a freedom shared with us in Christ; a freedom given that we might serve one another in the power of the Spirit, through the gifts of the Spirit of the God who lives.
The Revd Dr Preston Parsons