JR. Forasteros - May 19, 2013
Pentecost
The Holy Spirit is the third person of the Trinity. She empowers the Church to be the body of Christ, the visible image of God's life, to the world. Everything we do as followers of Jesus flows from the Holy Spirit, and we can do nothing in God's Kingdom without her. What keeps us from living the full life God offers is our refusal (or ignorance) of the Spirit's power. By choosing to connect to the Spirit, we live powerful, victorious lives that present a clear image of God to the world.
From Series: "Already/Not Yet"
Jesus' resurrection wasn't the end of the story; it was the beginning of God's new creation. The Resurrection is God's first step toward reclaiming creation, and we get to be a part of it. By choosing to follow Jesus, we leave the old reality dominated by sin and death and step into God's kingdom, where we find life. This new life has already begun. And yet we're also still waiting, because God's kingdom has not yet come in full. How do we live in the tension between the Already and the Not Yet? This series explores who God calls the Church to be, and how the Holy Spirit enables us to join in God's mission in the space between the Resurrection and the Second Coming. We're not just waiting around for God to show up. God is already here and working, so we're joining in!
Sermon Manuscript Discussion Guide Spiritual Practices Guide
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In the years after Hurricane Katrina devastated the city of New Orleans, I went to the city to do relief work several times. It was during those trips I learned that what victims of disasters want most isn’t necessarily the relief work. Every trip went more-or-less the same:
A big group of us would show up and get to work. Maybe we were gutting a home so it could be cleansed of mold and rebuilt. Maybe we were cleaning up vacant lots to beautify a city block for the other residents. Mostly we were gutting homes – tearing out sheetrock and ripping up flooring. It was brutal, exhausting work, particularly in the New Orleans summers.
The residents would always be nearby, helping if they could or in their FEMA trailers making lemonade for us workers.
And inevitably, over the three or four days we were there, each of us would end up just sitting and talking with that resident. Despite the fact that we were on a schedule. Even though we were working hard to get their home finished.
What they needed most wasn’t a new home (though, obviously, that was important).
What they needed most wasn’t our strong backs and hard work. What they needed most, every time, was human interaction. They needed to tell their story, to be seen and heard, to know they’re not alone in their grief.
Again and again, what gave them hope was not the pounding hammers and loaded wheelbarrows, but a person sitting with them, being present with them.
What does it means to be WITH someone in times of grief? The final movement of Lament is hope, an anticipation that grief is not the final word.
