Rest a while

To observe an America’s Cup Yacht travelling at full speed is quite remarkable.

While practising for the America’s Cup held in Auckland in March 2021 the New Zealand boat, named Te Rehutai was seen regularly on the Hauraki Gulf.

My place of residence afforded me the opportunity to sit and watch these sailings.

When travelling at top speed, these yachts could reach speeds of upwards of 50 knots. This equates to about 92km per hour.

Consider this next time you are travelling in a motor vehicle.

There were occasions, however, when the yacht just sat in the water!

Becalmed because of a lack of wind.

No matter how sophisticated the shape of the hull or the sail design. No matter how quickly the onboard cyclists pedalled, without wind, the yacht went nowhere.

To enable the yacht to move, the sails catch the wind, and the force of the wind on the sails creates motion. This motion propels the yacht forward.

With the wind, the yacht is propelled forward at great speed. Without the wind, the yacht sits!

Ruah, (pronounced in Hebrew Ruach), is the Hebrew word translated as God’s Spirit. However, the word is also translated as breath, air, and wind in the Scriptures.

Today, Pentecost Sunday, is a celebration of God’s “ruah” – the breath, air, wind of God.

For those unfamiliar with yachting, it may be helpful to remember that you can only catch the wind if first you have moved your yacht from the safety of the yacht yard and ventured onto the water.

Second, you must unfurl the sails.

Third, you need to sit and wait for the wind to arise and then, in the words of the New Zealand poet Allen Curnow (1911 – 2001) become real,

“Simply by sailing in a new direction
 you could enlarge the world”

The painting is a somewhat unfamiliar image of the Ascension.

And that is why I have chosen it; it allows me/us to consider this feast afresh.

The painting is by the English artist, Peter Rogers (1933- ). The painting is oil on board and belongs in the Methodist Modern Art Collection.

In the centre of the picture Jesus ascends in a whitish-gold cloud, his body already off the ground, arms raised upwards, and his head thrust back, almost horizontally, in profile, in a style reminiscent of William Blake.

On the left, the two figurees clad in white are standing in the embrace of a deep-red flame that descends from the heavens and curves beneath them, while on the right a group of disciples, undifferentiated except perhaps for Mary in a brown robe, gaze upwards as Jesus is lost to view within the cloud and ascends to heaven.

This all takes place against a black and inky background with a faint glow on the horizon.

When first viewing this painting I sensed within myself the comment, “this artist has not got it right!”

Then the question arose inside me, “is getting it right impeding my hearing and then responding to the Word?”

Then, worse still, was the realisation that “getting it right” was the entire content of the conflict between Jesus and the Jewish authorities.

“Don’t pick corn on the Sabbath” (Mt. 12: 1 – 8)

“See he eats with tax collectors’ and sinners” (Mk. 2: 15 – 17)

“Is it against the Law to heal on the Sabbath or not?” (Mk 3: 1 – 6)

Then again, looking closely at the picture one becomes aware that the figures clad in white are looking out, while the other group are looking up.

The group dressed in white appeared to be enveloped in the flame of Pentecost!

Is “up” or “out” the better posture for today’s ‘community of disciples of the Lord’? (Redemptor Hominis No.21, 1979)

The house I grew up in as a boy had two doors.

The front door faced the street we lived on as a family.

The back door faced the neighbours.

The front door had a shiny brass doorstep.

I can never remember walking on the brass doorstep. I have countless memories of walking over it!

The back door was where we lived!

The verandah at the back door housed a well-used cricket bat and ball, a muddy rugby ball and other sporting paraphernalia.

The verandah was home to a pair of my father’s old shoes. Examining those shoes revealed the number of colours the house had been painted with over the years. There were liberal paint splatters.

The verandah was also home to a wooden clothes horse.

The verandah of the backdoor housed a sarcophagus type wooden container that had a menagerie of items that were important, however not worthy of entrance into the house (buckets and spades that still held seaside sand etc).

Visitors would knock on the front door and await entry.

Family and friends would walk around the side of the house (while avoiding being run over by a red tricycle travelling well beyond the speed limit); they would then negotiate the oddments at the back door, and walk inside.

Today’s Gospel, (John 14: 23 – 29) I suggest is a backdoor Gospel. Hear again the words from verse 23, “if anyone love me they will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we shall come to them and make our home with them.”

Love invites people to the backdoor.

There is no need of a shiny brass doorstep, your God is walking round the side of the house.

Your God uses the backdoor!

Nickel Creek was an American progressive acoustic music trio.

A member of Nickel Creek had written a song in which I see some resonance with this Sunday’s gospel.

The song is called “The Hand Song.”

Here is the story it contains:

A young boy breaks off some garden roses to give to his mother. Trouble is, she has  been tending these roses with great care and now he has pulled them to pieces. The thorns dig into his hands as he brings his present to her. She lovingly extracts these thorny reminders of her labour; the chorus goes

and she knew it was love.
It was what she could understand.
He was showing his love
and that’s how he hurt his hands.

Sometime later, sitting on her lap, held closely, the boy listens to stories from the Bible. He sees a picture of Jesus and cries out, Momma, he’s got some scars just like me; and the chorus,

And he knew it was love.
It was one he could understand.
He was showing his love
and that’s how he hurt his hands.

Finally grown up, the young man is called to serve in the Services. In the course of the war he throws himself in front of a friend to shield him from gunfire. He gave his life, a deed he had learned from the roses and the cross; and the chorus

But they knew it was love.
It was one they could understand.
He was showing his love,
and that’s how he hurt his hands.

Did the boy/man earn “glory” in the usual sense of the word? He learned what love was and he gave it on the battlefield. In the story there are no stadiums of people to give applause. And yet, isn’t love the very essence of human life? Jesus says so in this Sunday’s Gospel:

I give you a new commandment:
Love one another.
As I have loved you,
so you also should love one another.

The illustration contains a famous quote attributed to Jimi Hendrix, “When the power
of love is greater than the love of power, the world will know peace.”