“If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit.”
(Galatians 5.25)
The Scripture lessons appointed for today and for recent Sundays are
all about the nature and practice of the spiritual life. In Baptism we
are born again of water and the Spirit, born into the new spiritual realm
which we call “the Kingdom of God” or ‘the Kingdom of Heaven.” In Baptism,
we embrace, or our parents and godparents embrace for us, the spiritual
life of God’s Kingdom, and it is our vocation to grow and become mature
in that spiritual life.
With that in mind, I think we should look closely at the lessons for
today — the Epistle and the Gospel — and if you’d like to follow the text,
you’ll find it in the Prayer Book, beginning on page 239.
First, the Epistle — and let’s look at it line by line. “If we live
in the Spirit,” says St. Paul, ‘let us also walk in the Spirit.” But what
does it mean to “live in the Spirit?” It has to do with the basic direction
and orientation of our lives: what we live for, what we take to be fundamentally
important, what we understand to be the purpose and end of our lives. To
live in the Spirit means to live according to the will of God, according
to the word of God revealed by the Spirit in the Scriptures and in the
life of the spiritual community.
“If we live in the Spirit,” says St. Paul, “let us also walk in the
Spirit.” By that he means that we, who know something of the word of God
and the will of God (perhaps only a little, but still something), must
walk in that spirit. We must order our lives, and make our daily decisions,
with our spiritual end, and not worldly ends, in mind. We must “seek first
God’s kingdom.” (Matthew 6.33) St. Paul continues: “Let us not be
desirous of vain-glory, provoking one another, envying one another.”
St. Paul frequently contrasts life in the Spirit with life according
to the flesh. To live “after the flesh” is to live for worldly ends. It
means to regard the ambitions and possessions and comforts and pleasures
of this present age as though they were absolute. That is what it means
to be “desirous of vain-glory.” To desire vain-glory or empty glory is
to take pride or satisfaction in things which are finally of no value or
importance. It is to set our hearts upon such things; and for the sake
of such things, we compete with one another, provoking and envying our
neighbours.
“Brethren,” says St. Paul, “if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which
are spiritual, restore such a one in the spirit of meekness; considering
thyself, lest thou be also tempted.”
The temptations of vain-glory — the temptations of worldliness —are
surely very close to every one of us, very close to you, and very close
to me. How often in little matters, and sometimes even in big matters,
do we succumb to them. But we who are spiritual — we who have embraced
the spiritual life of God’s kingdom — we are not to judge one another in
a spirit of criticism or a spirit of pride. Rather, we are to judge in
a spirit of meekness, knowing our own frailty in these matters: “considering
thyself, lest thou be also tempted.”
Do not condemn. Rather, says St. Paul, “Bear ye one another’s burdens,
and so fulfill the law of Christ.” It is not our calling to disparage and
destroy one another, but to support one another and uphold one another
in spiritual life. Thus we “fulfill the law of Christ,” which is the law
of love.
“For if a man think himself to be something when he is nothing, he deceiveth
himself.” Perhaps the profoundest temptation of all is the temptation of
pride: “to think ourselves to be something.” This is to take our own fond
ambitions and opinions as the measure of spirituality, to make ourselves
arbiters of spiritual life. We fool ourselves, and perhaps nobody else,
certainly not God.
“But let every man prove his own work, and then shall he have rejoicing
in himself alone, and not in another; for every man shall bear his own
burden.” That is to say, each of us has his own vocation, his own spiritual
life — his own talents, and opportunities and circumstances — and it is
in that context that our own spiritual life must become mature. There is
a sense in which we “bear one another’s burdens.” For instance, the godparent
takes on the responsibility of seeing that the baptized infant prospers
in his or her spiritual life. This is also the duty of each one of us towards
our neighbour; but there is also a sense in which we must attend to our
own purity of heart, and mind our own business.
That, I think, is the meaning of the Epistle lesson. The Gospel, from
St. Luke 17, is the story of the healing of the lepers; and what it adds
to the message of the Epistle is simply this. The cleansing and healing
of the spirit is the work of God. “Not that we are sufficient of ourselves
to think anything as of ourselves, but our sufficiency is of God, who hath
even made us worthy to be ministers of the new covenant.” (2 Corinthians
3.5) Therefore, our spiritual life is to be nurtured and matured in a spirit
of thanksgiving, and cannot be nurtured and matured in any other way. Otherwise,
it turns into pride when we think ourselves to be something when we are
nothing. We fool ourselves, delude ourselves. Spiritual wholeness consists
in giving glory to God. In the Eucharist, the thanksgiving which we now
go on to celebrate, let us then return to give thanks to God for spiritual
gifts, which make us no longer strangers, but citizens of God’s kingdom.
“Arise, go thy way, thy faith hath made thee whole.”
