Just occasionally during the school trips to Russia that I led it was possible to allow the pupils some free time and to have an hour or two of pleasing myself in Moscow. On one of these occasions, I headed straight for the Tretyakov Art Gallery. The painting I most wanted to see was the one reproduced on the appendix to this week’s pew sheet. It’s a fifteenth century icon by the great Russian master Andrei Rublev. It’s usually spoken of as the Old Testament Trinity, though that’s not how Rublev would have named it. In his day, icons depicting this scene were known as the Hospitality of Abraham. On one level, the icon illustrates the story in Genesis of Abraham and his wife Sarah entertaining three angelic messengers, but on another level the three figures represent the three persons of the Holy Trinity.

The angel in the centre is dressed in a way that would have prompted Rublev’s contemporaries to recognise him as Jesus, and the fact that he is seated in the position of the host and the gesture of blessing he is making over the chalice in the centre of the table reinforce that identity. 

Jesus gazes towards the figure who is seated on the left of the picture, the figure which represents God the Father. Jesus sees God with absolute clarity, understanding and love. The messages for us are precisely those which Jesus gives to Nicodemus in today’s Gospel when he says:

“…we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen.”

and then we read that

“…God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, to that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

Jesus looks towards God the Father,  but he is painted in such a way that it seems that he has just turned his head in that direction and that a moment before he was gazing at the third figure, the one on the right of the image, the one that represents the Holy Spirit. That figure faces in the direction of Jesus and of God the Father. And in our Gospel reading Jesus speaks of the transforming power of the Holy Spirit, of the possibility of new birth in the Holy Spirit.

Together the three figures form a circle of mutual contemplation and love. The arched backs of God the Father and the Holy Spirit are two arcs of that circle. 

Many people have found the doctrine of the Trinity difficult or even impossible and I have considerable sympathy with those difficulties. Yet without it there are other important things which become impossible to believe.  The most important belief which makes no sense without the Trinity is the simple and vital proposition that you’ll find in the 1^st Epistle of John:

“Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love.”

Not “God is loving” or “God is compassionate” or “God is merciful”. Those are ways of speaking which we can apply to other human beings. “God is love” is a statement of a different kind. Love is about living in relationship, and for the words “God is love” to make sense, there has to be relationship within God, there has to be the mutual love and contemplation which the icon shows. 

And what about us? We read in Genesis that we are made in the image and likeness of God. If God is loving and relational, we aren’t created to behave like self-made people, finding and asserting our individuality. We are made to relate lovingly one to another and to God. We are made to work together. As one of Susan’s carers said to me last week:

“Teamwork is Dreamwork.”

None of the figures in the icon is looking directly at us and yet the icon invites us in, encourages us to participate in the love of God the Holy Trinity. The three figures are seated on a platform and, if you look carefully, you will see that the perspective of that platform is reversed. It points towards us. There is an empty space at the table which we are invited to occupy. We too can be part of the circle of love. 

Over the Christian centuries, writers and thinkers have used different word pictures to describe that invitation to belong to God the Holy Trinity. St Paul writes in today’s Epistle that we are invited to be “children and heirs” – members of a family. Some theologians have likened the Holy Trinity to a dance which we are invited to join. We might also think of it as the invitation to be part of a team. Andrei Rublev chose the metaphor of hospitality – Abraham’s hospitality to the angels seen as the Holy Trinity’s open and loving offer of hospitality to us. 

To that invitation, the obvious, the honest reaction is “Who me? The person who is so often grumpy, bad-tempered and selfish?” That’s what the priest-poet George Herbert was getting at in the poem you will find beneath the icon. 

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
            Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
            From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
            If I lacked anything.

"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here":
            Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
            I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
            "Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord; but I have marred them; let my shame
            Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
            "My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
            So I did sit and eat.

And so we are invited to be nourished and transformed by the God who is love.

John 14: 8-17 and Acts 2: 1-21

So we have come to the last, chronologically speaking, landmark date of the Christian year. Without Pentecost, none of us would be here.

Think of those three earlier landmark dates. Just for a moment, forget the wisdom of hindsight. Forget all that we know of things that happened then and have happened since, and think how things seemed to ordinary people at the time.

 Christmas. A baby born in a stable to a poor and obscure Jewish couple in a small town in Judaea. Sure, there were angels and wise men showing that this was a significant birth, but who in Palestine even a few days or months later would have attached any importance to the recollections of a bunch of shepherds, low class and uneducated, or to the evidence of three foreigners who came and then went away again. A nine days’ wonder, irrelevant to ordinary lives.

Then, thirty years later, Good Friday. For us, the self-offering on the Cross of the Son of God. His triumph over sin. But for the rest of the world, at that time, how did it appear? An obscure Jewish Rabbi was crucified by the Roman authorities in Jerusalem, because he seemed to be challenging the might and majesty of Caesar, as other rebellious souls had done before. Sure, he had done some wonderful things in his life, but in the end he didn’t even have the support of his own people. So he probably deserved what he got. That’s just what happens to rebels and upstarts. Let’s get on with our lives.

But.... Easter. The principal followers of this crucified Rabbi claimed publicly that God had raised him from the dead. They had seen him and spoken with him, several times. They had eaten with him. They claimed that he fulfilled all the prophecies of the Jewish scriptures and that he was the promised Messiah. They said that they had seen him ascend to God. But they didn’t really do anything about it. They just huddled together in a room, praying. They seemed to be expecting something, but they weren’t very clear what. If the history of Jesus had ended there and then, that too would undoubtedly have been eventually dismissed and forgotten as a nine days’ wonder.

But then, then came Pentecost. Pentecost, the Feast of Weeks, in Hebrew Shavuot, was another of the great Jewish festivals. Jerusalem was once again crowded with pilgrims from all over the Ancient Near East, as it had been fifty days earlier for Passover. Suddenly, an extraordinary occurrence. The followers of that crucified Rabbi were all together early in the morning in one place. The Holy Spirit came upon them, symbolised by a rushing wind and tongues of flame hovering over their heads. They praised God for his wondrous deeds of power. And marvellously all the foreigners present heard those followers of Jesus speaking not in their own native Galilean but in the native languages of the listeners. No wonder that they were amazed and astonished!

Those disciples were utterly transformed, but the greatest transformation shown that day took place in Peter. If any of you doubt how complete was Peter’s transformation, take a few minutes this afternoon to read two passages from the Bible. First, verses 54 to 62 from the 22^nd chapter of the gospel of St Luke. There you see Peter cowering in fear in the courtyard of the High Priest, denying any knowledge of Jesus, finally weeping bitterly in shame. Then read Acts, chapters 2 to 4. Peter stands up before all those crowds, testifying to Jesus, raised by God from the dead, as Lord and Messiah. Just as Jesus had promised, the Holy Spirit gave Peter the words to say, and the strength and courage to defy even the Jewish religious authorities. When those authorities tried to forbid the disciples to speak or teach in the name of Jesus, Peter replied: “We cannot keep from speaking about what we have seen and heard.” [Acts 4:20] That transformation was not a nine days’ wonder which could be dismissed and forgotten.

That same Spirit impelled the followers of Jesus to speak and teach, not only in Jerusalem but throughout the world. It was their successors who brought the Gospel here to England, who with the spirit of Pentecost taught our ancestors about Jesus, about Christmas, Good Friday and Easter. So the knowledge has come down to us. As long as Jesus was alive, his ministry, his work was local, limited to Palestine, where he was. But when he had died and was risen, he was liberated from the limitations of the flesh which he had accepted. His Spirit could work mightily anywhere. His Spirit was set free to operate with power throughout the whole world. [William Barclay: The Gospel of John vol.2, p.192] To come to us. Here. Indeed, without Pentecost we might never have known about Christmas, Good Friday and Easter.

Over the centuries, human beings have tried to pin down the Holy Spirit in words. I think that it is easy to get lost in theological niceties and to lose sight of the reality. For me, the Holy Spirit is the perfect expression of the grace of God, of the love of God and Jesus Christ in action. Nicodemus found it hard to grasp when Jesus himself tried to tell him about the Spirit. “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” [Jn 3:8] We have all been born of the Spirit, at our baptism or our confirmation. The Spirit is within us and around us, always, at all times and in all places. It is the Spirit who teaches us, who helps us to obey the commandments, to love God, to love our neighbour, and to love our fellow Christians as Jesus himself loves us.

I love the lines from the old hymn to the Spirit: “Where thou art not, man hath naught,/ Nothing good in deed or thought,/ Nothing free from taint of ill”.  Wherever I see love, or goodness, or kindness, or truth, or beauty, or holiness, there I see the working of the Spirit. And I am thankful. And that thankfulness itself is the working of the Spirit in me.

So today let us give thanks for the great gift of the Spirit. Pentecost is as vital to our Christianity as are Christmas and Easter. Look around you for evidence of the working of the Spirit, not least in this service of Holy Communion in which we are united in receiving the body and blood of Christ. But also in the love and warmth and friendship of our fellow Christians as we go out. And in the beauty of nature. And in the richness of our lives in this great city. Thank you, Holy Spirit of God.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! [He is risen indeed! Alleluia!] The Lord is here! [His Spirit is with us!]

Acts 1:15-17, 21-26

15 In those days Peter stood up among the believers (together the crowd numbered about one hundred and twenty people) and said, ¹⁶‘Friends, the scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit through David foretold concerning Judas, who became a guide for those who arrested Jesus - ¹⁷for he was numbered among us and was allotted his share in this ministry.’ ²¹So one of the men who have accompanied us throughout the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, ²²beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us—one of these must become a witness with us to his resurrection.’ ²³So they proposed two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also known as Justus, and Matthias. ²⁴Then they prayed and said, ‘Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which one of these two you have chosen ²⁵to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.’ ²⁶And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias; and he was added to the eleven apostles.

I wonder what Matthias or Joseph Barsabbas (Justus) felt that day when they were singled out by the disciples to take the place of Judas Iscariot. Was Justus relieved it wasn’t him? Was he disappointed? Was Matthias elated or terrified that the ‘lot fell on him’? How did these two men get on with each other following the election? The answers to these questions we can only guess at but knowing human nature I suspect there were feelings of relief, trepidation and tension expressed. I hope that Matthias and Justus were able to work together amicably but we are not told if they did or not. Matthias, I hope, did not ‘lord it over’ Justus. Just because one gets chosen does not mean that the other would not have been chosen in different circumstances.

When the lot falls on you, you have a duty to live up to the trust placed in you by those who called you without smugness or big-headedness.

All of us at some point in our lives are chosen to do something – be it follow a certain career, form a lasting relationship with another person or to shoulder a particular burden. Whatever it may be we Christians do so in the hope that God will guide us and be with us in all that we do and that the Holy Spirit will be our guide and support.

“Oh! I have 3000 friends on Facebook. I feel blessed to have so many friends following me.” 

Perhaps, today, this comment is not uncommon. Having friends numbered in the thousands is for many a badge of honour; even if in reality those with all those friends have never met more than say 2% of all those so called friends. So are those followers actually ‘friends’? 

That is a question that can cause some heated debate and I remember one such debate a few years ago at the Book Festival; when one of our own congregation challenged Rabbi (now Baroness) Julia Nueberger on her use of the word ‘friend’ in one of her books. Nueberger happily used the word to describe Facebook followers but our member believed that a friend  could only be someone with whom one had a close relationship with, whom one actually knew and spent time with. 

The Oxford English Dictionary defines the word ‘friend’ as:

“A person with whom one has developed a close and informal relationship of mutual trust and intimacy; (more generally) a close acquaintance. Often with adjective indicating the closeness of the relationship, as best, good, close, etc. Cf. mate, pal."

How do you define the word ‘friend’ in your experience? 

Jesus, as recorded, in today’s Gospel account obviously believed friends to be more than followers on social media. For him a friend was someone with whom he had a deep and loving relationship:

“12 ‘This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. ¹³No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. ¹⁴You are my friends if you do what I command you.”               John 15:12-14

For Jesus a friend was someone for whom you would give your all, even your life to save them or to make things better for them. They are not someone on a list of followers unknown to the individual they are following. They are people who have mutually chosen to be part of each others lives to such an intimate extent that they are more or less family. Friends are the people that one choses to spend time with and with whom one has a deep understanding and fellowship. Whatever the depth of relationship one has with any particular friend implies that one actually knows them by face, name and time spent together and not as just a nickname on a scroll of names following your latest instagram or snapchat photograph!

A friend for Jesus was someone who abided in his love and thus the love of God. Someone who had chosen to enter freely to a relation of depth with him and who had opened their heart to receive love from him. We are friends of Jesus and he is our friend as well. Not in any soppy or sentimental way but in a way that is all embracing and empowering. True friendship as defined by Jesus is a relationship built upon, transformed by, and sustained by unconditional love. The boundless love of God manifested through the Christ to those who recognise who he is and are willing to open their hearts to him. 

This friendship is powerful and life changing for friends of this depth are willing to put themselves out when needed. To laugh and cry with each other, to rebuke and teach each other and to love each other even when they might drive each other mad. Friends are those people who know us so well that they love even our faults and shortcomings because they can see the who person we are and not just a fraction of our humanity. Friends forgive each other when needed, carry each others burdens at all times, laugh together and wipe away tears. 

This is the friendship that Jesus talks about today; transformative, deeply loving relationships and not some unknown connection on a list. Personally, I would like all of us to reclaim the word ‘friend’ from social media usage by the way we show how we love our friends, just as Jesus shows us how he loves each of us as his friends too. 

On a short visit to Edinburgh many years ago, long before I lived in the city, I fell into conversation with a local who asked me:

“Where do you stay?”

I wasn’t then familiar with the Scots use of that verb “stay” and when I replied:

“The Old Waverley Hotel”.

the person with whom I was chatting looked completely baffled.

I was of course being asked where I lived, not where I was staying, and in those days the correct answer would have been Ipswich. Edinburgh was then a place I was passing through. Ipswich was my settled residence, the place of my abiding. 

Jesus uses the word “abide” no fewer than eight times in today’s Gospel passage and the word is also found six times in today’s Epistle.  The Greek verb meno – I abide – occurs three times in Matthew’s Gospel, twice in Mark, six times in Luke and a surprising thirty-three times in St John’s Gospel. 

Sometimes St John seems to be using the word in the ordinary sense, for example in          Chapter 1, Andrew and another disciple of  John the Baptist encounter Jesus first time and ask him:

“Rabbi where are you staying?”

to which Jesus replies

“Come and see”

“Where are you staying?” sounds rather mundane, yet there’s a hint here of important truths that are unfolded later in the Gospel. Discipleship is about abiding in Jesus and Jesus’ own abiding place is profoundly important. We discover the nature of that abiding place when Jesus tells Philip:

“Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father is in me.”

And in today’s Gospel Jesus tells his disciples”

“Abide in me as I abide in you.”

He makes the idea of abiding very vivid by using a word-picture of himself as a vine and inviting his followers to be grafted on to him. 

“Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.”

Taken together the three sayings I have just quoted make the point that abiding in Jesus who himself abides in God links us to God and nourishes us. 

The word-picture of Jesus as the true vine would have had a vivid immediacy to the disciples for they all knew about the growing of grapes and the grafting of grape vines. I wonder what word-picture Jesus would have used had the Incarnation happened in 21^st century Edinburgh. A possibility occurred to me the other day when I reached for the mop and bucket which we store in the cupboard under the stairs. Another thing that lives there, because there happens to be a phone socket, is our modem. It links us to the outside world. We can send and receive emails, stream music, watch classic sitcoms on TV. It works because we are plugged into it, and it is plugged into the vast resources of the internet. And there, perhaps, we reach the limit of the usefulness of this metaphor, for not all of those resources are wholesome or benign. Yet I think it’s a helpful metaphor because the traffic is two-way and it depends on us being plugged in. 

That’s not the view of religious faith that most of our contemporaries have. They see it more in terms of subscribing to theological propositions and obeying moral rules, and those things, important though they are, are secondary to faith itself. Archbishop William Temple made this point well in his Readings in St John’s Gospel:

“Our discipline is not a bracing of our wills to conformity with a law; it is the maintenance of communion with the Lord to the point of immutable indwelling.”

“the maintenance of communion with the Lord to the point of immutable indwelling”

Indwelling, abiding or, to go back to the modem metaphor, being connected and staying connected; being connected and staying connected to the God who loves us. 

Today’s Epistle is a call to Christian love and in it, St John tells his readers:

“God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.”

And there’s that word “abide” again, that call to get connected and stay connected to the source of love itself. 

St John’s Gospel offers guidance on how to stay connected, how to abide. In chapter 8 we read:

“If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.”

And the Greek word that is translated as “continue” in that verse is the same word that elsewhere is translated as “abide”. Staying connected involves reflecting on all that we know of Jesus from the Gospels.

In chapter 6 Jesus says:

“He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him”

And we are reminded that when we make our communion we are connected with Christ, nourished  by him and connected also one with another. 

So the very structure of this service – the Word read and reflected upon, the Eucharist celebrated and Communion received – builds and strengthens that connection, that abiding. But that’s not an invitation to be stationary. The Jesus of whom we read in the Gospels is a man on the move, and abiding with him, being connected with him involved the first disciples in moving with him, moving out of their comfort zones. That’s a point that Rowan Williams made in a conference address in 2007.

“Disciples were people called away from home because they must be where their master is. And that is never going to be comfortable; but perhaps it becomes intelligible when one realizes…that the home where you will finally realize who and what you are is the home, the place prepared for you, by Jesus.”

We come here week by week to strengthen our connection with, our abiding in, Jesus and to abide in Jesus is to commit to a journey that may at times be difficult and uncomfortable, but whose destination is the full realization of ourselves.