It is amazing how much of my life is lived with a cup in hand.
Without a second thought, I set one beside my plate. Beverages accompany my every meal and snack - often serving as a meal or snack themselves. Every moment of the day seems shared with refreshment of some sort. I read, write, think, and talk with a drink in hand. (As I write this, I’m nursing a pot of hot tea.)
You can imagine that due to my habit of constant hydration, I also clean a lot of cups. It seems that no matter how hard I try to conserve, I always end up using at least a few per day. One for water, one for milk, one for coffee or tea, one for a pop or some other cold beverage. How often I find myself with warm water running, soapy rag in one hand and cup in the other!
There is another use I have for cups, though. This is my least-favorite and therefore least-used application for household drinking vessels: cleaning. (For any who find themselves often at the mercy of my hospitality it should be noted that these are typically older, partially destroyed containers; fit for nothing but the trash or their current use - not for guests to drink from!) However much I try to avoid it though, it is inevitable that dogs, tubs and carpets need cleaning. So I find myself yet again performing a task with cup in hand.
I am a cup. A vessel made for a specific purpose. Sometimes that purpose is light and easy. Sometimes it’s unlovely and frustrating. Yet regardless of the ease of function, I am constantly compelled to fill myself to the brim - to steadily watch the water of life rise within my soul. Then... to turn and pour - that the overflow may be a refreshing draught or cool ablution to those upon whom I turn my attentions.
This is the essence of worship - of the Spirit-filled, Word-saturated, Christ-like life.
Hold that thought.
We are told that if we believe in Christ, His Spirit dwells within us. During their final meal together, He told His friends that the Counselor would come to them. In the midst of their grief and loss, in the thick of their confusion and slipping faith - when they felt most abandoned, He came to them. “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live. On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you."
We are not alone. If we accept the Word of Christ, His Spirit takes up residence within the confines of our hearts.
Anything? A catch in the throat? A leap of the heart?
..... nothing .....? Hm.
One of the greatest casualties of our intellectually-based faith tradition is our doctrine concerning the Holy Spirit. From the flannel-graph to the pulpit, we utterly fail to grasp the full meaning of the Holy Spirit’s indwelling of our souls. Now, the wonderful ladies who taught my Sunday School classes were most likely not attempting to inspire fear when they told me that God is “always watching,” but they did. He sees all - He sees me when I’m sleeping, He knows when I’m awake. He knows if I’ve been bad or good...
ahem.
The tragedy is, though, that our teachings on God’s omniscience tend to lean us closer to St. Nick than the Holy Spirit. We hear of God’s all-knowing, all-seeing presence and think of a distant, keen-eyed list keeper - amiable for the most part, though terrible in wrath if it comes to it.
In fact if we are honest the omniscient, everywhere-at-once side of God has little to do with the Holy Spirit in our minds. In most Christian rhetoric, this mysterious member of God’s personal community tends to be viewed as a gift giver (back to the jolly fat man again!). Our thoughts tend to fall most on what He does for us (“Does He give me an inexplicable ability to speak in the tongues of angels?” “Does He make me a more passionate worshiper?” etc.) and we forget that God’s ability to see all of Creation stems directly from His Spirit infusing that Creation. Then once we finally hold that idea, we run into another problem. Since the Holy Spirit is a less “concrete” idea than the Father or the Son, we tend to not assign Him a specific entity. Rather He becomes an ethereal, metaphysical cloud of a being that can be called upon to perform specific functions (i.e. give something) when needed and forgotten when it is convenient.
The issue here is not that the Spirit of God is a giver of spiritual gifts. He is. Paul tells his brothers in Corinth that the Spirit manifests Himself (makes Himself known) in different ways for different people “for the common good.” Some are given gifts of wisdom, or intellect. To others, He gives them gratuitous amounts of faith. Still to a few others, He passes out the fireworks - gifts of healing, prophecy, tongues, interpretation, etc.
The point however, is not in the gifts but in their rationale: “for the common good.” Gifts of the Spirit are given in accordance with the inherent potential and need that God sees within an individual, but they are all given for the ultimate purpose of building up the body and displaying Christ to the world.
What is the best way of carrying out that purpose though? What is the vehicle that will translate our raw God-given talents into the currency of life-giving Spiritual gifts?
If we continue to read Paul’s letter, he tells the Corinthians that he will now show them “the most excellent way.” This ‘most excellent way’ is the key. The key to understanding the purpose of our gifts, of our lives as Christians. It gives context to our community and our mission. Without it, we are mere children playing with toys far beyond our comprehension. And, like toddlers piloting motorcycles, the result will be anything but “for the common good.”
This ‘most excellent way’ is simple. So simple in fact that we can sum it up in one word. But like most one-word solutions, the unpacking of the concept is beyond any one man’s ability to fully comprehend or achieve. The simple answer is love. The full idea however, is beyond even the divinely-inspired pen of Paul to completely convey.
First he tries explain that, without love, our spiritual gifts of tongues, prophecy, scholarship, faith, and generosity are worthless.
Our GOD-GIVEN gifts mind you. All meaningless without love.
Moving on, the Apostle then tries to explain both what love is and is not:
It is patient and kind. It is not envious, boastful, proud or rude. It is not self-seeking or easily angered. Nor is it a record keeper of past injustices suffered. It gets no pleasure from evil, only from pure, unadulterated Truth. Love always protects, trusts, hopes, perseveres and above all, never fails. (paraphrase)
Now that’s a nice list, but what does it mean for our lives, our community and the world? How does Paul expect us to take in such an “excellent way” and still learn to use the gifts we’ve been given? And what does this all have to do with the Holy Spirit?
First, remember that the gifts themselves are not the point. They are for the ‘common good,’ which is, in essence, the building up of our Christian brothers and the world around us. Secondly, we learn to use our gifts as we learn to love. Think about that. Our gifts do not become truly Spirit-given until they are used in love with the purpose of building others up. Just because we have a talent (e.g. engaging speaker, musical abilities, keen intellect, hospitable nature or empathetic disposition), does that mean we are automatically using them for God if we express them in the context of church? Could we really assume that the church building is so holy that a vindictive, impatient, unkind man can step up on the stage, preach a sermon and build up the body?
Well, yes and no.
Thankfully, God can use the worst of us to glorify His Name and strengthen His Church. No doubt there will be some who hear the message and don’t realize the personal context of the deliverer. They will walk away strengthened, praising God for using that man’s gifts. On the other hand, God is also willing to allow that man’s hypocrisy to curdle in the hearts of those of his hearers who know him best. They will leave frustrated that God would allow such a miscreant to so brazenly exhort others to abide by words he himself refuses to follow. The God-given talents were used, the Spirit-given gifts were not.
Unfortunately for me, I am that vindictive, impatient, unkind man (who also happens to deliver the occasional sermon). What hope is there for one such as me? How can I move from merely using my human talents for my own ends to allowing the Spirit of God to course through my veins and into my actions? How can I apply Paul’s teaching and love those around me when every desire within urges a different approach? In short, “who will rescue me from this body of death?”
Paul answers that in another letter when he declares that I am not controlled by the sinful nature, but by the Spirit (if the Spirit of God lives in me). And I know that the Spirit lives within me because I have made a commitment to be a disciple - on that day when I was baptized in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I know because I am not controlled by the sinful nature. Oh I am most certainly still susceptible to it, but I am not controlled by it. Because of Christ’s sacrifice and my decision to accept it, my dying body is no longer the dominant force in my life. My soul, that smallest of sparks from the eternal Flame of God’s being can be alive because of Someone Else’s righteous acts on my behalf. It is in that knowledge of my own insufficiency - the comprehension that I did nothing to merit the Counselor’s presence in my life - that I am able to pursue this life of love that Paul lays out.
Now that’s what I call the gift of the Holy Spirit!
It‘s not a talent or ability, but the free bestowing of God’s presence in my life. He is not a spying, red-suited list keeper, but an “ever-present help in trouble.” The Spirit is not a faceless entity, ready at our beck and call but a member of the Godhead. He is the paraklete: the Helper, Aid-giver, Consoler and Counselor. The Advocate, who takes our case before a Judge we are unqualified to see. The Giver of gifts and Reminder of the Will of God. He takes the frozen hearts of care-worn pilgrims and saturates them in the warmth of the God of love.
And the most impossible part of it all? Quite often we get to be the vehicles of that love. Oh sometimes the Spirit just skips a step and pours His gifts upon unsuspecting men and women (cf. the book of Acts). Most of the time, though, He relies on our fumbling hands to do His business. He works in us at an individual level, filling us up in preparation for acts of love, and then works through us to accomplish them.
Which brings us back to the cup.
I am a cup. You are a cup. We are all called to be vessels of the Holy Spirit. A chalice filled to the brim with the crystal clear water of life.
Throughout our daily lives, the God of the Universe spends His time pouring the limitless waters of Himself into the cups of our souls via His Word, prayer & meditation, fasting & praise, brief revelations of Joy and Beauty and acts of love received. We then in turn pour our small, hole-ridden vessels out upon all who happen to step into our path. A worshipful Christian life is a one that is daily filled by the Lord and poured out upon others. Sunday just happens to be the day He set aside for us to practice it together en masse. We could not hold it in even if we wanted to. A Christian who keeps the Water to himself most assuredly has an empty cup. If we are truly allowing the Spirit to flow into our souls, there will be no doubt because it will - it must - overflow onto others.
So how do we know for sure? The Apostle John says that there is a way we can know we are walking in the Truth. There is a method we can follow that will put our hearts at rest in the presence of God so that even if our hearts try and condemn us, we can know, without a single, nagging doubt that we are pleasing God:
This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth.
There’s a story of a young boy who went to Sunday school one week to see a life-sized, cardboard-cutout of Jesus standing in his classroom. His teacher proceeded to speak of how Jesus died so that He could live inside us - that He loves us so much He wants to come into our hearts.
The boy’s eyes got wide. He raised his hand and said, “But He’s so big! If I let Him inside me He’ll be bursting out all over the place!”
