EASTER 7, YEAR B

(In Ascensiontide)

May 12, 2024

St. Mark’s, Warwick, R. I.

 

Acts 1:15-17; 21-26

Psalm 1

I John 5:9-13

John 17:6-9

 

Over the past thirty years or so, it’s become something of a cultural cliché to say: “I’m not interested in organized religion but I’m very spiritual.” However, this dichotomy between religion and spirituality is false. Whether we admit it or not, we human beings are inescapably both religious and spiritual.

Some sociologists define religion as the total system of beliefs, stories, symbols, values, and practices by which we construe our identity and place in the world. By this definition, even an atheist has a religion; God’s non-existence is a key component of that religion. For much of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, secular ideologies such as nationalism, fascism, and socialism functioned for millions of people as religions in the sense that they gave meaning, purpose, and direction to their lives. In today’s world, one’s religion might be individualism, hedonism, or consumerism. We don’t have a choice about being religious; we do have a choice about which religion we believe to be worthy of our adherence.

 

Moreover, the term “organized religion” misses the point that we human beings are born organizers. The drive to order and arrange things belongs to our nature. Religious organization is neither limiting nor restrictive but liberating. For example, I didn’t choose today’s readings. The Church chose them for me by means of something called the lectionary. I trust the Church to do a better job of choosing the readings than I could. Having that choice made for me gives me the freedom to concentrate on more edifying and worthwhile questions. The organized part of religion means that we don’t need to keep on reinventing the wheel.

 

Just as we don’t have a choice about whether to be religious, so we don’t have a choice about whether to be spiritual. We all have a spiritual life of one sort or another. Our experience of reality is not limited to the material world of things that can be seen, heard, touched, tasted, or smelled. We have imaginations and the capacity to dream dreams. Although some individuals are more sensitive to this dimension than others, we all have some awareness of an unseen world: a realm of presences and influences distinct from yet capable of impinging upon the material world in which we live. Some such spiritual forces are benign, others are malign. Different spiritualities put us in touch with different aspects of the unseen world. So, we don’t really have a choice about being spiritual, but we do have a choice about which spiritual practices to embrace as beneficial to our souls’ health, and which to avoid as dangerous and destructive.

So, contrary to those who claim to be “not religious but very spiritual,” we human beings are inescapably both. The real questions are: Which religion we shall embrace as the organizing principle of our lives? And: Which spiritual disciplines shall we practice as our entry point into the invisible dimensions of reality? It might be profitable to reflect on those two questions during the coming week as we approach the Feast of Pentecost.

 

From my point of view, the best answers to those questions are clear. I find that traditional creedal Christianity offers a more satisfactory framework for understanding life’s meaning and purpose than any of the available alternatives. It’s not just a system of beliefs but a relationship with a living God, and membership in an organic community, the Church, the Body of Christ. Moreover, authentic Christian spirituality involves openness not just to some vaguely spiritual dimension of life, but to a divine Person, the Holy Spirit, who brings us into a living relationship with God the Father through the redeeming work of God the Son.

 

In today’s reading from the Acts of the Apostles, the risen Lord has ascended and departed into heaven, but the promised Holy Spirit has not yet descended and arrived. It’s a time of waiting. And so what do the apostles do? Why, they attend to matters of organized religion of course!

 

The defection of Judas Iscariot has broken the circle of the Twelve. A replacement must be appointed—someone who can share in the apostolic mission of bearing witness to the Lord’s Resurrection. The candidate must be someone who followed Jesus from his baptism until his Ascension. At Peter’s instigation, the apostles choose two suitable candidates, pray, and cast lots to reveal God’s choice of Matthias as the new Twelfth Apostle. So, the period between the Ascension and Pentecost is a time not only of waiting and praying for the Holy Spirit, but also of regrouping and reorganizing in preparation for the Spirit’s arrival.

 

We need both religious organization and spiritual power. The Church has aptly been likened to an old-fashioned sailing ship before the days of steam. Such a vessel requires a specific type of construction to stay afloat—a watertight hull and properly configured masts, rigging, and sails to catch the wind. Without the right design and structure, not to mention a capable crew, the ship will sink, founder, or capsize. But neither will the ship move forward if there’s no wind. For the Church, the wind that propels the vessel is none other than the Holy Spirit. Without the Holy Spirit, the ship of the Church is dead in the water and not going anywhere.

 

We don’t make any progress in the Christian life without both the ordering structure of organized religion and the dynamic power of the Holy Spirit. We need set religious practices, such as the weekly Mass and daily times of prayer, Bible study, and spiritual reading. But all that structure becomes dry and arid formalism unless the Spirit breathes life into our religion. It’s not a question of either/or, but of both/and. We need both sound religion and authentic spirituality.

 

In some respects, the interim period between rectors in a parish is loosely analogous to the interval between the Ascension and Pentecost. The previous rector has departed; the next one is yet to come. In the meantime, both organizational and spiritual work needs to be done. The disciples attended to the organizational matter of replacing Judas and so reconstituting the Twelve. In like manner, your vestry is addressing necessary administrative tasks like refurbishing the rectory and working with the diocese to expedite the search process. The disciples also gathered every day to watch and pray. At this time, then, we can do no better than join in praying like Our Lady and the Apostles in the Upper Room: Come, Holy Spirit: fill the hearts of your faithful, and kindle in us the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit, and we shall be created, and you shall renew the face of the earth. Amen.