On the eve of Pentecost, the Scriptures seem to rather abruptly end. The two main books of Christian Scripture that have comprised the Easter liturgies, the Gospel of John and the Acts of the Apostles, conclude in today’s passages. The Acts (ACTS 28: 16-20, 30-31), which described the early spread of the Way, those who followed the Christ, tells us of Paul’s internment in Rome:
When he entered Rome, Paul was allowed to live by himself,
with the soldier who was guarding him…
He remained for two full years in his lodgings.
He received all who came to him, and with complete assurance
and without hindrance he proclaimed the Kingdom of God
and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ.
Although we know that Paul’s earthly life does end in Rome, there is scholarly speculation that he could have travelled to Spain after his imprisonment in Rome, prior to his execution.
John’s Gospel (JN 21: 20-25) ends with the same abruptness, but here Jesus is confronting Peter about his questioning of the beloved disciple’s role in the spread of the Gospel:
Peter turned and saw the disciple following whom Jesus loved,…
When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about him?”
Jesus said to him, “What if I want him to remain until I come?
What concern is it of yours?
You follow me.”
In both cases, the abruptness has a certain open-endedness about it, which could be quite intentional on the writers’ part. In Paul’s case, even while he is imprisoned in Rome it is clear that his work continues. He received all who came to him…and without hindrance he proclaimed the Kingdom of God.” There is no stopping point for Paul. As long as he is alive, his commitment to the sharing of the new way of living in Christ will be at the forefront. In John’s Gospel, Peter’s question about the beloved disciple, and Jesus’ reply runs in the same vein. “What if I want him to remain until I come?” Jesus seems to be indicating that the beloved disciple’s role in the Way will be perhaps unique, especially perhaps in regards to Peter’s role.
The story continues – and that is the point it seems. And it is not about just Paul and Peter and the beloved disciple. In fact, who really is this beloved disciple, whose role is uncertain inasmuch as it is critical. When Jesus tells Peter, “You follow me,” you can almost hear the directive reaching out across the centuries into the lives of all who authentically wish to follow the Christ and invite others in.
What a great treasury we have of how that first explosive fire of the New Life spread so rapidly, with Mary Magdalene in France, and Thomas in India, and all the other disciples in their own unique journeys. The desert mothers and fathers and centuries under the Roman Church, have painted a multi-dimensional picture of what following Christ can mean, across all types of lives and personalities, including its coopting by dominating agendas and the horrific and lasting effects this has even today in our world.
You Follow Me
This is the universal and the unique call all at once. It is not the individualized “all on my own, – just me and Jesus” directive. It is the call into the communion of humanity within a world created and sustained by the God, who descended into the world to manifest Love in ways only a Holy Spirit can effect. And the only way that the Holy Spirit can do its work is through our receptivity, participation, embodiment and surrender. This universal call of the divine conscripts us to do what is ours to do, in the unique and embracing way that we are specifically drawn into the following.
The evangelist John’s final words in the gospel capture this compelling alignment that we are drawn into within the concreteness of our own lives in a wonderfully symbolic yet real way:
There are also many other things that Jesus did,
but if these were to be described individually,
I do not think the whole world would contain the books
that would be written.
John doesn’t seem to only be saying that there were many things that Jesus the person did while he walked the earth as a human. Instead, this magnificent closing of the Gospel of John, is actually the constant opening of the story of Christ, which cannot be stopped and must go forward. The Spirit of the Divine, in all its diverse ways of manifesting love, relies upon our very lives for its accomplishment, or maybe better, for its following. If these wonders could be described individually, the whole world itself certainly could not contain the “books that would be written,” the stories to be told, the lives to be lived, the inexorable journey of the Divine Spirit who leads us into the following.
The Holy Spirit does not create church. Instead it is the dynamic Love of the Divine already living in the world, in each of us, waiting to be named by us in that utterly unique and unrepeatable way of our personally living it. We are drawn into it and carried by it in unimaginable ways that can turn us completely inside out and, at the same time, manifest communion with each other that will not admit of exclusion. Its transformative power communicates life in all of its brilliant facets.
This Holy Spirit is a messy and holy wind that we are invited to breathe within and do nothing without. The power of its force is the inner drive of the divine in us, reaching out always, breathing out Life, beckoning us to deeply live in the following. The “Upper Room” is simply the very next step we are invited to take, that unimaginable new life offered, over and over again, if we follow together.