(Ordinary) Time for a walk in progress

On Trinity Sunday, Pamela Pianezza gave this homily. I know we're way past Trinity Sunday now, but it is still very much worth reading!

John 16:12-15

Jesus said to the disciples,

"I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.

When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come.

He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you.

All that the Father has is mine.

For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you. »

  (Ordinary) Time for a walk in progress

One of the things I loved at Sunday school, as a child, was the liturgical clock on the wall. Whenever needed, one of us was chosen to set the clock right : first Sunday of Advent, or Lent, or Easter. For that specific mission I always wanted to be chosen. Except once a year : on Trinity Sunday. I hated Trinity Sunday. Why ? Because we had been told it was « the bridge between Easter time and ordinary time ». And I didn’t want time to be ordinary. I wanted special times, exciting times. I wanted preparation, reflection and celebration. The first thing I would do when I realized we were entering « ordinary time », which I used to call « boring green time »,  was to check in my school planner when was Advent coming back so I could carefully write it down : « first Sunday of advent ».

Of course I am a grown up now. Which only means I now have a grown up planner. But I still do it. I still rush trough the pages. I still fast forward to the future and I can already tell you : this year the first Sunday of advent will happen on November 30th. Which makes me incredibly joyful because it means I won’t even have to wait for December to start celebrating Christmas time again…

And yet, here I am, with you, on Trinity Sunday. I really want to welcome you to ordinary time. But to do so, I first had to dust off my old prejudice against ordinary time, hopefully inspired by today’s text and even though the Gospel of John rarely helps making things clearer (and I do love the gospel of John).

In the verses we just heard, Jesus talks to his disciples and his words sound like a farewell speech. A tragic, but also a very frustrating one :

"I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now »…

Jesus is about to be arrested and put to the cross. He’s about to die in the most horrible way. And the disciples, they are about to be crushed. They are about to lose the one they love and the hopes and promises he gave them. Jesus may be reunited with his father, but they will be left here, on their own. Without their guide. Their teacher. Their « rabbi », as they sometimes called him.

The gospel tells us about the disciples, who can’t imagine what will happen, even though Jesus announced many times how hard the path would be, and even though he told them they would be « persecuted but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed » (2 Co, 4-9).

But the gospel was written for us. Us the church, us still following Jesus’ path, us who have known what have happened for more than two thousand years and yet are still trying to figure it out, to make sense out of the unbearable : the cross.

"I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now »…

Does it mean that we are still missing information? Teachings? Knowledge that could make the difference ? That could help us live despite the cross and not only that, but despite knowing that the madness that led to the cross is still at work everywhere, all the time ?

Does it mean we were not deserving enough to receive the whole thing ? Were we bad students ? And with just a few more hours or days, would Jesus have had time to prepare us better ? To tell it all ?

I’m telling you what would be unbearable right now : the idea that things are left unsaid. They are not, despite what a surface reading of the gospel of John could lead us to think.

Those words — "I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now » — are often quoted by people convinced that the Bible is an esoteric book, containing hidden keys. Especially the gospel of John. If unlocked those keys would give us access to some additional knowledge, some secret insight (gnosis in Greek), like a secret mountain path to the divine kingdom.

I get the enigmatic appeal of the gospel of John. His choice of words, the singularity of his tone, his intimate reflection on the identity of Christ… The book of John isn’t always an easy one to read. But it doesn't mean the gospel, the good news isn’t for everyone. Quite the opposite. Nothing was left unsaid and everything that was said was offered to all. And this is precisely what we are celebrating here, on Trinity Sunday.

Persecuted we may be. But abandoned : we are not. Never.

« When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. »

Jesus died, but he is risen. Jesus left, but his spirit is with us.

And here comes the tricky part. Trough Jesus, we learned who God really is. And trough the Spirit, we are invited to live in Christ, every day, again and again, whatever. Whatever mistakes we made. Whatever obstacles we meet.

We have God. We have Christ. We have the Spirit.

And this, we call the Trinity. But you won’t find the word « Trinity »  anywhere in the gospels, or in the Bible.

The Trinity is a theological doctrine. But I don’t want you to take is like it is a bad word. The Trinity is a theological construction that helps us put words on the most beautiful mystery  : a life in Christ. Unconditional love. Hope against hope (Romans 4:18).

The Trinity may be a doctrine, but it is also an experience and a very radical one : an experience of intimacy with god.

The Trinity reminds us about movement. Christ didn’t say : I am at this very specific and only place, where you can find truth and life.  He said : « I am the way and the truth and the life. » (John 14, 6)  

I am the way…

The way is where we walk or where we are carried when we can’t walk on our own.

The way, the path, is for pilgrims and pilgrims don’t look for absolute and definitive knowledge.  They search, they try, they stumble over stones, they get lost along the way, they discover unexpected landscapes, they make surprising encounters.

The Trinity reminds us about the circularity of love. About God and our neighbour.

It reminds us that we are never alone in Christ and that we can’t be « good Christians » on our own, which also means we have to live the word and not only preach it. And again, this isn’t a final destination but a walk in progress.

The Trinity reminds us that no one, not even the church, not even our priests or pastors or leaders can hinder our relationship with God, with Christ. Precisely because we are guided by the Spirit.

The Trinity may be a doctrine, but I also understand it as a personal invitation to keep an ongoing conversation with God and to trust our own intimate experience of our relationship with the Father and with the Son, inspired by the Spirit.

And maybe this is what ordinary time is for : to just walk the walk. To remember that even when there’s apparently nothing to celebrate, nothing to say or hear, even in solitude or when the landscape seems boring, we are loved, and held and guided along the way.

Even in silence, the word of God is.

So now I can happily tell you : welcome to Ordinary Time! 

May this season give you space and time to recognize beauty and mystery in the ordinary.

I wish you, I wish us, the most beautiful walk...