Faith Tested in Fire

Fire from an Easter Vigil

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom
1 Peter 1:1-12; John 14:1-17, Psalm 121
April 20, 2020


May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Our Epistle for today speaks of a faith that is tested in fire. Indeed. I would imagine we are all feeling that at times on these days. There are times when we would like to say, “Dear God, I know that there are good and important spiritual lessons for me to learn in the midst of all these challenges. And I would really like to learn them another way. My heart is too heavy. I am weary. This way of living is exhausting. Sometimes the anxiety and the fear get the best of me. I am sad. I am grieving. There is too much death. Too much loss. Please, God. I need a break.”

Well, my friends, I think the break we all crave (the one where we actually go on vacation and our schedule is not dictated by work or by the requirements of a quarantine) may still be a long way off. And yet, I am firmly convicted that there is still hope and possibility even in the midst of the times when we feel like we are being tested in fire. Even when we feel like we are being pushed to our limits and our faith and our patience are being stretched to the max. Our Gospel reading reminds us that Jesus does not abandon us. Jesus has sent us the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Spirit of Truth. And what is another name for the Holy Spirit, it is the Holy Comforter. And so there is hope. There is hope because we are not alone in the midst of it all, even in the fire. The Truth stands. Jesus did not say, you will have the Holy Spirit sometimes. He did not say you will have the Holy Spirit when you are your best self or you are having a good day. Jesus says we have the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Comforter with us forever. No matter what. We did not earn it. We cannot lose it. The Holy Spirit has been given to us an act of grace, as an outpouring of God’s love for us. Nothing, not even the fires of life, can take that away from us.

Well, you may be thinking, that sounds nice. I can believe that in my head. But what does that actually look like in my life? How do I live that truth out? How do I feel that truth in my heart? Especially when I do not have access to the things that normally restore my soul. I cannot physically be with the people whose mere presence incarnates hope and joy for me. I cannot go on vacation. I cannot go to my sacred places. I think, at least for me, the answer comes in shifting my mindset and my perspective.

A number of years ago, I read a book called “Sabbath in the Suburbs.” It is a great little book by a mom and Presbyterian pastor who tried to practice Sabbath fully for a year with her engineer husband and their three kids in suburban DC. I love the book because it is real. It is not Sabbath for someone in a monastery or who lives alone. It is about what Sabbath can look like when life is full and even overwhelming at times. One of the passages that has stayed with me from that book is the story of a Saturday in Advent when Mary Ann (the author) realizes that between Church and family obligations, sabbath is just not going to be possible that day. So, she decides she is just going to do all the tasks and obligations of the day “sabbathly.” She is going to shift her mindset. Rather than beating herself up because she cannot actually have a day of rest at home, she adapts to celebrate what is possible on that day. I wonder if we might be able to do something like that in these times?

Can we find and create for ourselves little windows of sabbath? Little windows of time or small ways to help us have elements of those practices that normally restore our souls. We cannot go to new or favorite places, but maybe we can watch a documentary about them or go back through our own pictures. We cannot hug a friend, but we can make a time to have a video call with them. We can let ourselves have a few more breaks in the day. Even just five minutes to breathe. To pray. To sit in the sunshine streaming through our windows. To listen to a piece of beautiful music. To write a friend.

We can stay strong through this fire if we are grounded in our faith. Grounded and connected to God and to each other. So whatever it is that restores your soul find ways to bring the principles of that into your life even if the practices cannot look like your ideal vision. Know that God is with you. Know that we have been given an Advocate, a Holy Comforter who does not abandon us, ever. We are not alone. Not today. Not ever. AMEN.