Easter 6B: Abide


Power-of-His-PresenceFIRST READING: Acts 10: 44-48

To read the Lectionary passage from Acts, click here

Backing up just a little bit, Peter has summarized Jesus’ earthly ministry in the preceding verses. In verse 38, he tells the crowd that in Jesus’ baptism, God anointed him with the Holy Spirit and with power. But then the Holy Spirit comes, as a “gift” on all who were there listening to him speak. But what is surprising to those good circumcised believers that are standing there listening, the ones who have done everything right, the ones who have followed all of the religious rules, is that the Spirit comes upon all who are present—even on the Gentiles.

Here, “speaking in tongues” is a sign of the presence of the Spirit. The pouring out of the Spirit and baptism are closely associated in Acts and Baptism follows the coming of the Spirit. Peter’s question is an important one: If someone has received the Holy Spirit, if God has somehow compelled someone to come forth, if God has somehow some way shown up in their life, then how can we withhold baptism? So he orders them to be baptized under his authority.

Once again, the coming of the Spirit was sudden and unexpected—and unplanned as to who was going to receive it! This now removes any lingering doubt that the Kingdom of God was open to Gentiles and others. The idea of “speaking in tongues” is sort of foreign to us. We’re not really sure to what this was actually referring. Clearly there is language content, but, like the Pentecost experience, perhaps it has more to do with listening than the actual speaking. Once again, the writer of Acts focuses on hospitality and welcome. This speaks loudly to those that are more comfortable with God’s grace being carefully mediated to those that have done everything right.

But the point is that, in all honesty, these people that were of Jewish descent that have become a part of this new Christian movement had already begun to define and limit what the movement was about. So, they were utterly astounded when suddenly Gentiles started showing up with evidence that somehow God had burst into their life. On his blog, Episcopal priest Rick Morley writes a reflection on this passage:

In other words, they have no clue. They have no idea what God is doing, what God is capable of, or who God is able to reach. Instead of being open to the infinite possibilities of God they are closed-minded, thinking that the only way to God is a way that looks like the way that they came to God. As if God can’t be reached by other routes. As if their understanding of God is the only right way. The only possible way.

Of course, this is the quintessential struggle in the New Testament Church between Jewish and Gentile Christianity. The question, “Can one follow Jesus without also being Jewish,” sat over the nascent church like a wet blanket. But, of course, this is also the quintessential struggle of the church today. Most of us can’t imagine a church, or “doing church,” differently than what we have already. As our rolls and pews slowly empty out, we talk about “tweaking this” and “tweaking that.” We’ll add a few drums and post what we’re doing to Facebook. Because that’ll draw them in.

And so, what we have in the Book of Acts is a glimpse into a mirror. Just like the first Church couldn’t see the reign of God past their own paltry view of the possibilities, neither can we. Towards the end of the third chapter of Paul’s Letter to Ephesians, we see a glimmer of someone who “gets it”: Glory to God, whose power working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine. (Ephesians 3:28)

It’s like when we look out into the world around us, we see just a sliver—just the tiniest wedge of possibilities. But, God sees the whole sky. The whole infinite expanse of the universe brimming with possibilities. New things to be done. New people to be reached with His love. New ways to crash the reign of God into creation. What gives me the slightest glimmer is that the church in Acts was “astounded.” At least they weren’t “disgusted,” or “dismayed.”

Sometimes when I hear prophets and dreamers in our own day spin visions of what the church can become, the reaction I see is disgust and dismay. I think we need to summon the ability to see the world, the church, and our lives from God’s perspective. We need to pray for that. And then work to make it happen. But, if we’re unable to do that—and I admit that it’s a large task—then at least we need to recapture the ability to be “astounded” when God begins to do something new in our midst, and breathes life into these dry bones we’re always rattling. (From “Even Astonished”, by Rick Morley, May 1, 2012, available at http://www.rickmorley.com/archives/1585, accessed 9 May, 2012.)

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. How does this speak to our churches today?
  3. How does this speak to our world today?
  4. What meaning does this passage bring to baptism for you?
  5. When are you “astounded” by God?



NEW TESTAMENT: 1 John 5: 1-6

To read the Lectionary Epistle passage, click here

This passage sort of repeats the same theme that we found in the Acts passage—that all who believe are adopted children of God. The mark of loving God and obeying God is not “burdensome”, for we are given the power that compels us to follow God and to love our fellow brothers and sisters. To believe in Jesus as the Son of God is at the very core of our faith and through this faith, God reigns.

As people come to Christ, come to God, God’s power is shown more widely throughout the world. And through the mention of water and blood, we are reminded that Jesus experienced both baptism and crucifixion. The Spirit was part of both of these events and is continually present as the soul of the church.  The writer goes on into the following verses and tells us that there are three things that together testify to our belief in Jesus Christ: Holy Spirit at work in the community, Baptism, and Crucifixion as shown in the Eucharist. This is probably a statement against those who believe that Jesus came by water but not through the Spirit that was present in other ways. They were perhaps espousing that Jesus, as God, did not really die, denying Jesus’ very humanness, denying that Jesus was one of us.

The passage depicts love as obedience to God. I don’t think it means that our obedience proves our love for God but rather that if we love God and abide in God’s love, then our obedience to God, our listening to who we are and who we are called to be, is what we do. In essence, our love for God leads us to do nothing less. We tend to think of “obedience” in a bad way, as something that in some way makes us do something other than we want, other than we would do naturally. But here, obedience to God is actually being who we are, tapping into the real us, the real love of God at our very core of being and then living that out in every aspect of our lives. Every aspect of Jesus’ life was for God and for us. We are called to be and do no less.

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What happens if we deny Jesus’ humanness?
  3. What does “obedience” to God mean to you?
  4. What would it mean for you for every aspect of your life to be for God and for others?


GOSPEL: John 15: 9-17

To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

Jesus continues to prepare his disciples for his physical departure from them. In last week’s passage, he told them that he is the true vine, God’s agent, and that they are the fruit. They represent him in the world—to bear fruit, to do in his name. This is how God’s power will be extended among humans. Jesus has loved them as God has loved them. They are continuing to love him by being obedient to his commandments, to continue to be in a loving relationship with God even after Jesus is gone. This is the kind of love that leads to ultimate joy. Jesus is the model for our behavior and Jesus is the one that loves others so much that he gave his life for them.

The word servant is difficult for us, but to be a servant of God was an honor in Old Testament times. Jesus, then, had chosen these and appointed them to see converts who would be servants. And Jesus depicts what happens when this great love is fulfilled—the fruit of love is abundant joy. The goal, then, is not purity or spotlessness, but a joy that fulfills itself in love.

The way that Jesus addresses the issue of status is interesting. Essentially, the image of servant is abandoned in favor of one of abiding friendship. While the language of serving and servitude has dominated Christian tradition, this little correction deserves more reflection. Perhaps it means that God does not want slaves but, rather companions. It creates a different model of spirituality. Of course friendship also means letting the other be and acknowledging that otherness in its integrity and sacredness. Certainly there is no thought of ‘pocketing’ God or Jesus in a way which reduces either – a kind of power-play which makes them manageable (pocket-able and in my control). Some people either want to dominate or be dominated. They live lives as if it is either-or. The model here is different. It does not compromise the integrity or holiness of the other, but affirms companionship in such holiness. We are not just asked to be friends; we are friends for a purpose; we are friends to bear fruit in Christ.

And, once again, if we love God, if we abide in God, we will keep God’s commandment. It will not be merely that we choose to do so. God chose us. And as children of God, we can do nothing else. It is who we are. From that standpoint, “disobedience” to God is not just doing wrong. It’s more than just ignoring the speed limit. Rather, it is not being and living out who we are. It is being someone other than who God made us to be. It means that we love God and that we love each other. It means that we are no longer estranged from God are separated from others. It calls us all to the table and invites us to sit down and share a meal. No one is excluded. No one is left out.  No one is waiting in the wings wondering if they will be welcomed or shunned. Emily Dickinson once said, “my friends are my estate.” In other words, those with whom we share our lives ARE our lives. Love them as you love your life. Love them the way that Jesus loved. Love them enough that when the chips are down, you can do no other than to love them more than life itself. It is that kind of love that IS fruit, that IS life. It is the love into which God calls us.

In Scripture, hospitality reflects a larger reality than mere survival. It links us to each other and to God. It is understood as a way of meeting and receiving holy presence. Sure it was risky, probably even more risky than it is today, but it was the expectation. It was what we are called to do—to meet God in every face we encounter. It doesn’t mean that we all have to like each other or even get along. A stranger is still a stranger. But we are called to recognize that running beneath all of our lives is a common humanity and a common Creator. It’s not about overcoming differences but rather transcending them and being reconciled to one another in love. And our love for each other is a reflection of our love for God. And letting each of us be who we are is letting God be God.


  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What does this “friendship” in and with Christ mean for you?
  3. How does that change our relationship to God?
  4. What would the world look like if we loved each other more than life itself?
  5. How does this speak to the commonly-used phrase “a personal relationship in Jesus Christ”?
  6. What does this say about hospitality?
  7. What if we had that same “expectation” of hospitality as we find in Scripture?



Some Quotes for Further Reflection:


Today we are bombarded with a theology of certitude. I don’t find much biblical support for the stance of “God told me and I’m telling you, and if you don’t believe as I do, you’re doomed.” A sort of “My God can whip your god” posture. From Abraham, going out by faith not knowing where he was being sent, to Jesus on the cross, beseeching [God] for a better way, there was always more inquiring faith than conceited certainty. (Will D. Campbell)

My business is not to remake myself, but to make the absolute best of what God made. (Robert Browning)


We are what we repeatedly do. (Aristotle)




Close by reading the words of “The Servants Song” (Richard Gillard, in The Faith We Sing, # 2222):

Brother, sister, let me serve you, let me be as Christ to you; pray that I may have the grace to let you be my servant, too.

We are pilgrims on a journey; we’re together on this road. We are here to help each other walk the mile and bear the load.

I will hold the Christlight for you in the night-time of your fear; I will hold my hand out to you, speak the peace you long to hear.

I will weep when you are weeping; when you laugh, I’ll laught with you. I will share your joy and sorrow till we’ve seen this journey through.


When we sing to God in heaven, we shall find such harmony, born of all we’ve known together of Christ’s love and agony.

Easter 5B: Unless Someone Guides Me

philip_ethiopian2FIRST READING: Acts 8: 26-40

To read the Lectionary passage from Acts, click here

In this part of Acts, the author tells of the spread of good news to non-Jews in the Middle East. The writer has just finished telling about the spread of the gospel to the Samaritans and now we hear of the conversion of yet another outcast, a eunuch. (Per Deuteronomy 23:1, a eunuch could not be admitted to the assembly of the Lord. The eunuch is from Ethiopia. The “angel” is essentially an agent of the Lord of some sort that leads Philip to Gaza down this wilderness road. He comes across this eunuch, who was the financial officer for Queen Candace. He finds the eunuch reading from the Book of Isaiah. A few things can be surmised from this. First of all, the eunuch is probably an admirer of Judaism, although he cannot participate in its practice. Secondly, the eunuch is well-educated and probably fairly successful (since he is so high in the queen’s court.)

Philip proclaims the good news by showing the eunuch how the prophesies of the Old Testament are fulfilled through Christ. He tells the eunuch about Jesus. When the eunuch asks for baptism, Philip obliges. At that point, Philip is in some way whisked or carried or snatched or in some other way compelled away, where he finds himself in Azotus, proclaiming the good news to more non-believers.

The eunuch is cut-off from society, shunned. And yet, in the story of Jesus, he found a place. Here, human humiliation becomes the point of entrance for relationship with God. He was obviously open to this encounter, perhaps even deeply wanting it, since he was reading the Scripture. One interesting thing is that the eunuch did not ask for a teacher. He asked for a guide—someone to travel with him, rather than telling him where to go. Perhaps he already had this God-thing figured out.

From the standpoint of Philip, keep in mind that he had always been taught to be prejudiced against eunuchs and probably against blacks. This man was from Ethiopia; he was not like Philip. Perhaps God puts those who are different in our path to remind us that it is not our job to define the Kingdom of God. There are no membership cards. It’s just that often the church has to be poked and prodded beyond its comfortable walls.

The truth is, this IS a story of conversion, but not the story of the conversion of the eunuch. It is, rather, Philip’s conversion, the story of how he left his prejudices and his cultural preconceptions, his fear of those who are different, behind and instead followed the call of the Gospel. It is the story of Philip becoming who God called him to be.

But, truth be told, all of us struggle with that. After all, it’s much more comfortable, much more validating, to surround ourselves with those like us. And yet, how does that change us? How does that change the world? If we surround ourselves with mirrors, with those things that look and act like us, that reflect only who we are, how will we ever know how God is calling us to change? How will we ever know who God is calling us to be beyond ourselves? So, who’s to say? Who’s to say who can be baptized? Who’s to say who God loves? Who’s to say who has the right image of God? The truth is, we don’t know. It’s not ours to say.

The truth is, none of us have it figured out. None of us even come close to having possession of this wild and untamed Holy Spirit through which we live and move and have our being. None of us can ever limit the Christ that lives even today in this world. And none of us will ever completely know God. The best we can hope and pray for is that we will finally come to know that part of God that God has revealed in our lives. And in the meantime, we are called, called to be the people of God building the Kingdom of God. In the meantime, we are called to break the mirrors that limit who we are and follow where God leads.

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. Where do you see similarities in this story and our society today?
  3. How does that speak to outcasts today?
  4. How comfortable are you leaving your “mirrors” behind?



NEW TESTAMENT: 1 John 4: 7-12

To read the Lectionary Epistle passage, click here

This passage can be summed up in three words: “God is love.” This love originates in God This is the kind of love we have for each other. Being lovers, then, we are God’s children and we love God. If we don’t actively love, we don’t know God – because the very nature of God “is love”. God’s greatest expression of love for us, the Church, was sending Christ, sending the very Godself, into this far-from-perfect world, thereby giving us a way to know and live as God envisions. God took this initiative, this action restoring us to unity with God. So we have a duty to love each other. It is through Christ that we can see God. The flip side is: if we love each other, God (i.e. God’s Love) is “in us”: fraternal love completes God’s vision of total love.

This is obviously sort of a circular depiction of God’s love and God’s vision of who we are. But, here, the aim of love is to enable people to live, sharing life and love in the name of God with each other. Implicit in this passage is the assumption and the directive that we will love those even that we do not see, that we will love someone not because of who they are but simply because they “are”. So, from that standpoint, the shape of God’s love is continually changing, continually growing within us. As we encounter more and more of those whom we should love, God’s love grows beyond our own limitations.

If it is true that the very core of the universe is love, then God wants us to grow in love. In the Bible, God does not command us, “grow in intelligence.” If the very core of the universe was intelligence, then God would have said, “get smarter and smarter and smarter.” But God does not say that in the Bible. If the very essence of the universe was power or wealth, then God would BE power and wealth. But because the core of the universe is love, and God is love, then God wants us to be like God; to be more loving. God wants us to experience love, to grow in love. God’s command to love is simply the command to be who we are supposed to be, who God created us to be in the first place.

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. How can this speak to us today?
  3. Why is this such a hard thing for many people to grasp?
  4. What does it mean for you to experience the “love that is of God”?


GOSPEL: John 15: 1-8

To read te Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

The passage begins with a familiar image: the vine. Perhaps the “true” vine is the writer’s way of distinguishing this newfound faith in Christ from the image that was used for Israel. But the focus is probably more on the need to remain in the vine and bear fruit. Remaining in, abiding in, the vine is crucial for life. For the writer of this Gospel, salvation is a relationship with the Christ and God through Christ. So, using the vine image, branches need to insure that they remain connected.

The vine will be pruned or purified and new life will spring forth. Fruit-bearing probably refers to the bringing of others into this relationship with Christ. Evangelism which is not understood as abiding within the aspect of love becomes a form of manipulation. But, like a vine, we are all interconnected, nourished by God’s love. That is life. That is abiding. The whole thing is not about horticulture; it’s about abiding.

We love because God first loved us. Love is the highest form of abiding, of being present for one another. Thich Nhat Hanh says, “If our love is only a will to possess, it is not love. We must look deeply in order to see and understand the needs of the person we love. This is the ground of real love.”

In a commentary about this passage, Walter Wink says this:


What does it mean, “to abide”? Deep strata of memory are excavated by those words: a former piety, a profound but now defunct Christ mysticism, prayer without ceasing, attempts to implant myself in God and an entire libretto of frozen feelings, from “I tried that” to “pious claptrap” to “let’s get on with living in the real world.” For me “abide” once meant: Think only of Jesus. Drown out all other voices. Choke down the rebellion. Manhandle the resistance. Deny the inner darkness. For me, it all added up to a religion of repression.

But we grow with the text. I had somehow mislearned to regard the command to abide as a personal admonishment. I took the “you” as singular. My God and me, and all that. But that “you” is plural, providing a rich image of the body of Christ, of Christ seeking a body in the world. Had I thought of it as plural, I would have understood it as a reference to the church. Now I would leave it loose, to apply to anyone who abides, whatever his or her beliefs or affiliations….

In such a time, the words “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love” .may not come as unmitigated comfort. Look at how God loved Jesus! From baptism to crucifixion, Jesus kept abiding, and the Powers maintained their menace. Did Jesus have to undergo pruning? Is that what the Temptation was all about? And Gethsemane? And how much more we never hear about? This pruning business can get a lot more painful than anything I’ve ever known.

Someone who does know more about the painfulness of pruning than I stresses that the pruning is not to be identified with an original act of trauma, abuse or injustice. Elaine V. Emeth says that the pruning metaphor works for her only if she thinks of God as a gardener who grieves while watching a violent storm rip through a prized garden. Afterward, the gardener tenderly prunes the injured plants in order to guarantee survival and to restore beauty and harmony. Pruning is not to be confused with the tragedies that overtake us; it has more to do with clearing away the debris they leave behind. (From “Abiding Even Under the Knife”, by Walter Wink, in “The Christian Century”, April 20, 1994 available at http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1058/is_n13_v111/ai_15177815/?tag=content;col1, accessed 6 May, 2008.)


  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What does it mean to abide in Christ? What does it mean to abide with each other?
  3. What image does the vine mean for you?
  4. How do churches today fall short of this image?




Some Quotes for Further Reflection:


God is always bigger than the boxes we build for God, so do not waste too much time protecting your boxes. (Richard Rohr))

We must love them both, those whose opinions we share, and those whose opinions we reject, for both have labored in the search for truth, and both have helped us in the finding of it. (Thomas Aquinas)


All your love, your your stretching out, your hope, your thirst, God is creating in you so that God  may fill you…God is on the inside of the longing.  (Maria Boulding)




Close by reading the excerpt from There Is a Season, by Joan Chittister, p. 111:

An ancient wrote:  Once upon a time a disciple asked the elder, “How shall I experience my oneness with creation?”  And the elder answered, “By listening.”  The disciple pressed the point:  “but how am I to listen?”  And the elder taught, “Become an ear that pays attention to every single thing the universe is saying.  The moment you hear something you yourself are saying, stop.”

Peace will come when we stretch our minds to listen to the noise within us that needs quieting and the wisdom from outside ourselves that needs to be learned.  Then we will have something of value to leave the children besides hate, besides war, besides turmoil.  Then peace will come.  Then we will be able to say…I fear nothing, I hope for nothing, I am free.