Psalms [39], 41
OT Reading: 1 Sam 18.1-16
NT Reading: Luke 8.41-end
The work of the Spirit
This evening’s readings, and especially the reading from the Old Testament, are moving accounts of the love of God at work in the world – in the mutual affection which inspired David and Jonathan, and in the healing ministry of Jesus – but we had St Matthew’s account of the same miracles this morning, and I don’t want to repeat what Mthr Carol had to say. I am therefore all the more indebted to Geoffrey for drawing our attention in his Music Notes for the Parish Magazine to the words of the great Bach motet which the choir has just sung. Der Geist hilft unser Schwachheit auf.
The text comes from Luther’s translation of St Paul’s epistle to the Romans. The Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is in the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints – that’s you and me – according to the will of God. There is profound truth to unpack here. I think many of us would agree that there are moments in our lives when we can only weep in God’s presence, unable to find the words to express our distress, our confusion, our sense of failure, even our anger, but God knows what is the mind of the Spirit, the prayer to which we are trying to give expression, because the Spirit intercedes for us according to the will of God.
On the back page of your service sheet you have translations of the main body of the motet itself, on the left, and on the right the concluding chorale. They are decent translations, but I would add two comments in relation to the chorale. It is not just sorrow which might drive us away from the the Spirit, but Trubsal, a much stronger word for that grievous misery and affliction which is sometimes described as the dark night of the soul. We really do need the Spirit’s help to ward off that depth of evil.
And the second comment concerns what is translated as the feebleness of our flesh. That is a piece of old-fashioned Biblical language which we don’t really use nowadays. A more modern translation for des Fleisches Blodigkeit would be: help us to overcome the waywardness (Blodigkeit) of our mortal inclinations. I first came across the word blodig as a teenager, and it describes the kind of silly nonsense that teenagers get up to. We need the Spirit’s help to avoid being distracted by such futile inclinations.
To sum it all up, life is no bed of roses, but if we hold firmly to our faith, and resist all tempting but irrelevant distractions, the final outcome of our life’s course – in the power of the Spirit – will merit that double cry of Halleluja !
That fundamentally positive assessment is consistent with the broad sweep of Biblical history too. The Bible tells the story of God’s love and mankind’s response from the dawn of creation to its climax in the life and death and resurrection of Jesus Christ and the launch of the new company of believers which would embody his Spirit and carry forward his presence to a triumphant conclusion at the end of time. Both our readings this evening were part of that unfolding story.
In our first reading we saw how the young David’s faith, courage and modesty struck such a reciprocal chord in the heart of Jonathan, Saul’s son and presumptive heir, that ‘loving David as his own soul’, he stripped off his robe, and his armour – sword, bow and belt – and gave them cheerfully to David, for love’s sake. And David, for his part, would thereafter remain faithful to Jonathan and his family through thick and thin, a model of love and devotion between two men which would never waver. Sadly Jonathan died in the great battle between David and Saul, but David kept his vow by caring for Jonathan’s son Mephibosheth, who was disabled and therefore particularly vulnerable in those days.
Our New Testament reading showed him both healing a woman whose tragic illness had cut her off from society for many years, and even restoring to life a much loved child, 12 years old. But these were individual cases. What more could be done to realise the divine intention which had been present from the very beginning when God decided to create humankind ‘in our own image, according to our likeness’? God gave his chosen people laws and guidance as a framework for living well, he gave them leaders as rulers priests and prophets, but they either became corrupted by the exercise of power or if not corrupted they were opposed or ignored. There had to be a better way, glimpsed by some of the prophets, and rooted in the release of God’s own Spirit, to dwell in the heart.
The Spirit of God is the greatest gift which humankind could possibly receive. It has led to great works of discovery and creation, both artistic and scientific. It has inspired the foundation of schools and colleges, as well as hospitals and charitable foundations. Perhaps above all it rescues us from the curse of futility and despair. This is what St Paul perceives in the words which Bach sets to music in his motet. When we don’t know what to do for the best, when we are overwhelmed by tragedy or disaster, when all we can offer is tears and sighs, the Spirit knows how to bring blessing and comfort out of even the darkest days of grief or apparent failure. We do not know how to pray as we ought,’ but the Spirit intercedes for us in accordance with the will of God with sighs too deep for words. That is the assurance which enables Paul to go on to assert that in the end ‘all things work together for good for those who love God.’ It is not that the Spirit will take away our trials and tribulations, any more than was the case for Jesus himself, but in the power of the Spirit anything can be turned to gold, even that weakness in our hearts which tempts us to succumb to despair in the face of all that life sometimes throws at us. For in hope we were saved.
Der Geist hilft unser Schwachheit auf. The Spirit helps us in our weakness.