Holy Chaos

I do not preach about Mother’s Day because, although we honor those who fill a maternal role, Mother’s Day is problematic or even painful for some.

So, I stick to the lectionary and the lessons for the day.

This could be my own bias, but I don’t think we talk about the Holy Spirit enough.

So, let’s take some time this morning to talk about the Spirit.

I may regret stealing my own thunder when Pentecost rolls around but I think I’ll risk it.

Today’s gospel begins with a reminder for Jesus’ disciples—and those of us who claim to be his followers:

“If you love me and obey the command I give you, I will ask the One who sent me to give you another Paraclete, another Helper to be with you always …”

The first thing to note is that Jesus says that, if we love him, we will follow the command he gave us.

It is not an if/then statement.

It is an if/and statement.

And what is that command?

Love God and love our neighbor.

These are not arbitrary rules for us to follow.

They are invitations to participate in God’s mission.

And Jesus promised to send us a helper in fulfilling that mission.

That helper is the Spirit—our Paraclete.

“Paraclete” is a Greek word that can be translated as Advocate, Comforter, or Helper.

Each of those meanings captures a facet of the Spirit’s role.

The Spirit’s primary function is to deepen our understanding of Jesus’ message.

As we incorporate that message into very being, we see that we are instruments of God’s love and we fulfill that role through service to our neighbors.

The Spirit also sustains us through adversity.

She enables us to persevere when faced with doubt.

She strengthens us to overcome challenges.

But, despite that explanation, I suspect the Spirit still remains something of a mystery.

We have heard the Spirit described as breath, as wind, and as fire.

The work of the Spirit often sounds a lot like inspiration.

A “Spirit-filled” event is one where ideas and emotions flow freely.

Similarly, one of my favorite euphemisms for the Spirit is “holy chaos”.

Some of you may have heard me say that I love chaos because there is joy in it.

To be clear, there is not always joy in chaos.

Disorder isn’t inherently joyful.

However, if order becomes our primary concern, we become repressed.

And joy requires us to be open—to let our guard down.

Joy requires us to embrace the moment.

Even if what’s happening is not the way that we would do it.

Even if it tests our boundaries.

That is what makes Pride parades a beacon of joy for a marginalized community.

I remember the first Pride parade I went to.

It was New York City in the early 1980’s and I was between my junior and senior year in college.

Because it was the early days of the AIDS crisis, the Pride parade was a big deal, and it was HUGE.

But there were three groups I remember very clearly.

The first was a snake charmer and kazoo band.

They were exactly what they sounded like—a group of men, most of them people of color, many of them with pet snakes around their necks, all of them playing kazoos as they marched.

The second were the dykes on bikes.

They were lesbians on motorcycles, most of them Harleys.

The third were teachers.

They marched with bags over their heads because, at the time, they could’ve lost their jobs for being identified as queer.

As a kid from the suburbs who had led a very sheltered life, each one of those groups challenged my perception of the world.

They tested my boundaries.

I knew my world growing up had been very small.

But my education had tested beliefs I took for granted.

It helped to clarify my core values.

I gave me knowledge and tools that allowed me to take in new information and experience new things without dismissing them as foreign or abnormal.

There are those who would call my education indoctrination.

That would say being open to new experiences and withholding judgment is harmful and a threat to society.

I couldn’t disagree more.

That ability to open myself to some holy chaos allowed me to feel joy at that first Pride parade.

And not only joy but also pride.

The variety of people who marched that day—lesbians on motorcycles, black men in leather, drag queens, parents and grandparents marching to support their loved ones, people of faith marching to let queer people know that God loves them¬—all those people taught me something about joy.

Joy—like God—has no limits.

You can’t put it in a box.

And, if you try to, it only diminishes it.

I think there are a lot of things in life that are like that.

Like welcome.

Welcome is all or none proposition.

You can’t welcome someone a little bit.

You can’t say, “I welcome you but” because “but” negates the welcome.

In the same way, you can’t love someone a little bit.

That’s the problem when people say, “hate the sin and love the sinner”.

Once you say, “I love you but”, your message of love is lost.

The Spirit can help us to eliminate the “but”.

The Spirit opens our hearts and our minds.

The Spirit expands our boundaries—so we can experience unbridled joy, extend unqualified welcome, and share unconditional love.

The Spirit can do this because she is holy chaos.

The Spirit blows where it will.

She cannot be confined.

We read in 1 John chapter 4 that we are given the Spirit so God’s love can be brought to perfection in us.

Divine love is brought to perfection in us.

It binds us to God and each other.

And when we share it, it spreads.

Divine love is contagious.

I think it’s safe to say that there’s a little bit of holy chaos in the way that love spreads.

It spreads, not so much in grand gestures but in small acts of kindness.

It spreads, not so much through familiar faces but through strangers whose lives we touch.

It spreads, not so much through the things we always do, as through the times we extend ourselves a bit beyond our comfort zone.

So, open yourself up to some holy chaos.

Do something out of the ordinary.

Challenge yourself to expand your boundaries a bit.

And let the Spirit do her thing to help you welcome without limits, love unconditionally, and experience joy that might just be a little overwhelming.

Let us pray.

Come, Spirit who is the light that dispels the shadows within.

Warm and transform our hearts.

Reveal what we do not know.

Come, Comforter who makes a home in us.

Fill our emptiness.

Heal the wounded. Soothe the anxious.

Be consolation for all who grieve and ache.

Come, Helper who opens our hearts to divine love.

Accompany us on our journey.

Fill us with enthusiasm for your vision.

Magnify our desire for truth.

Bless our quest for justice.

Come, Spirit, joy of our souls.

Inspire us to dance, not only during life’s ups but also during its downs.

Embrace us with the delights of your holy chaos.

Amen.