P&F Lectionary Commentary:7-Easter 05/27/2001

Lectionary Commentary

Acts 16:16-34

What a peculiar healing story! A first century clairvoyant and trance channeler has figured out Paul's full identity and the one he serves. She is so certain of Paul's identity that she proclaims it throughout the town. Though he could never hope to pay for publicity like this, Paul eventually becomes annoyed. Figuring that only way that he can get some piece and quiet can come by an exorcism, Paul casts out this spirit of divination. The slave woman returns to normal everyday consciousness. While there may not be any deep theological nugget in this story, it once again demonstrates that there is no one path to healing and wholeness. Even annoyance can be the motivation to transform your life or assist another in their own personal transformation. Accordingly, there is no one spiritual prerequisite to becoming an agent of healing. Most of us would prefer a calm, compassionate state of mind, in which we see the holy light in the other.

Healing may also come as we confront an evil, in this case, the spirit of divination, and cast it out. Perhaps, Paul was not annoyed at the girl, but rather the spirit that worked within her. As he looked beyond the spirit's announcements, Paul may have seen that by delivering her from this "gift" he might also deliver her from slavery and manipulation by her owners. In the spirit of John Dominic Crossan, this healing might have not only transformed her mind but also her social situation. Paul's action leads to conflict and arrest, and a remarkable encounter with the jailer. While the preacher may choose to focus on the Paul's ministry to the jailer, a remarkable aspect of this story is the attitude of Paul and Silas toward their imprisonment. Though they have lost their freedom, their spirits are soaring. They are praying and singing hymns to God. As Viktor Frankl notes, regardless of one's external circumstances, a person can still choose their inner attitude. Faith and hope involve our emotional reactions to life, but they also involve our vision of reality. Paul and Silas live in a world permeated by God's presence and protection. Beyond the bolted doors of imprisonment, they experience a God who is unfettered in love, creativity, and imagination.

Their current limitations are the source of new possibilities. In the midst of beatings and imprisonment, they discover that God is at work, inviting them to share God's wholeness with the other prisoners and the jailer. Without negating the pain that attends chronic illness, divorce, disability, and job loss, the preacher can remind the congregation that negative situations do not exhaust the divine possibilities available to us. In her A Ring of Endless Light, Vicky's dying grandfather affirms that now that he is bed-ridden, his vocation is simply to pray. In the way of the loss of a long-term position, I discovered new possibilities amid the pain. While my life is still in transition (and always will be), my changed employment situation has awakened me to greater creativity, new talents, a deeper marital relationship, and the discovery of new friendships.

Although I would not have chosen this path, I can with the apostle Paul, "count it all joy" in light of the new adventures God has in store for me. Psalm 97. In its affirmation of divine partnership and intimacy, liberal Christianity is apt to forget the "other side" of God. The loving and personal God, "the fellow sufferer who understands," is also the cosmic creator and transformer, the one who brings universes into being. Yet, this majestic God has a care for the "least of these," The infinite God is also infinitely personal. The majestic God is also marvelously loving. God inspires our worship precisely because divine power and majesty are defined by a heart that is infinitely loving and infinitely personal. For Christians, this means that all reality is Christ-like. In the vastness of the universe, we are not alone but surrounded and permeated by a love which neither begins nor ends. Revelation 22:12-14,16-17,20-21. "I am coming soon!" To most liberal Christians, these words of Jesus provide little comfort or hope.

When we hear them, our minds turn to the apocalyptic visions of Tim LaHaye or Hal Lindsay. Such end time prophecies reveal a God who is sub-Christian, who is ruled by petty jealousy and hatred and who is willing to destroy, rather than transform, our imperfect human history. We cannot deny that apocalyptic thinking played a significant role in the theology of the early church. But, we must also remember that deeper than the martial images of apocalyptic writing is a vision of hope that God will have the final saving word for history and human life.

As process-relational thinkers, we are challenged to live by what we affirm rather than what we deny. When we hear the words "I am coming soon," we can affirm their deeper truth - the insight that in each encounter and each moment of our lives God "comes" to us in the form of creative images, visions of beauty, challenges to our passivity, and promises of possibility. With God, the future is always open. Something new can emerge, despite the forces of entropy and alienation, in our lives and in the world. The preacher may ask the congregation simply to reflect on "where is God coming to you today?"

Often we miss the ordinary and ubiquitous revelations of God precisely because we fixate on the dramatic. Yet, most growth - be it spiritual, emotional, and relational, or the growth of a seed to a flower or fetus to a child - is gentle, quiet, and invisible to the eye. Still, we trust the unseen growth and the undramatic presence of God. Leo Tolstoy tells the story of a cobbler named Martin. One evening, Martin has a vision of Christ. Christ tells him, "tomorrow, I will visit you." The next day, the cobbler wakens with great excitement, for Christ is coming. From his basement window, he can observe peoples' shoes as they walk by.

Early in the day, he sees the worn shoes of an old man. He recognizes them as belonging to an old soldier. He invites him in for tea and warmth. Later he observes a scuffle of feet in the street. A hungry boy has been apprehended for stealing from from a vendor. He purchases the fruit and sends the boy on his way. As night falls, he still awaits the coming of Christ. In the shadows, he catches the glimpse of a cold and tired young woman and her child. He invites them in for a meal and sends her off with his late wife's shawl. At the end of the day, he retires to his evening prayer in great disappointment, for God did not come to him. In his sadness, he asks Jesus where he was. Jesus opens his eyes to the day that has just past. He sees the faces of a mother and child, an old soldier, and a hungry boy, and then hears the words, "Well done, Martin, as you have done unto the least of these, you have done unto me. For those with eyes to see and ears to hear, each moment is a theophany, a coming of Christ, and an invitation to the healing of ourselves or others. John 17:20-26.

Today, physicists and physicians are studying non-local causation. Events can shape each at distance without benefit of mediation. Medical researchers are exploring the significance of "distant intentionality" or "intercessory prayer." The new metaphysical and scientific paradigms open the door for persons to pray for one another and expect to make a difference in each others' lives. What would it mean if we took seriously Jesus' prayer for his disciples? The text implies that Jesus not only prayed for his most immediate male and, I believe, female disciples, but also for all of his future disciples. What would it mean to know that Jesus was praying for us two thousand years later and this prayer is still creating a sacred field of force around our lives? Christ prays that we today experience unity with one another. For us today, the call is to a spiritual creative synthesis in which integrate into our own experience the deepest insights of our spiritual partners without defensiveness or judgment. This passage calls us to a holistic vision of unity which embraces Protestant prophetic iconoclasm and independence of thought, Catholic sacramentalism, Pentecostal fervor, Evangelical intimacy, Orthodox iconography, Celtic embodiment, African American praise, First American sensitivity to nature's beauty, and Mystical intuition. While few of us can embody all these streams of spiritual experience, we can embrace those which best resonate with our own personality and life experience, even as we affirm the spiritual paths we have not taken.

While most liberals find little to appreciate among fundamentalists, even here we can discover a spiritual force in their quest for constancy amid change. This passage also speaks of our unity with Christ. Christ is within us as the ever-present call to unity, beauty, and adventure in every moment of our lives. We are never alone and directionless. Christ within us is a constant source of guidance. As we quietly listen for the voice of Christ in our lives, we will become more and more attentive to Christ's voice within our companions, human and non-human, in our planetary journey.

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