Many
people are quick to understand what is meant by “Father” or
“Son” (i.e., Jesus Christ) yet seem uncomprehending when they hear
“Holy Spirit.” In the earliest Christian congregations, however, the
Spirit was identified with startlingly vivid experience.
Paul asks one group, “Did you receive the Spirit through works of the
law or through hearing with faith?” (Galatians 3:2). It’s as though
he said, “That raging headache you have now: did you get it from
having a brick fall on your head or from drinking ultra-cold ice
water?” The one matter that is undeniable is the headache. In other
words, the apostle was appealing to their experience
of the Spirit and asking them to recall the means (believing the gospel)
by which a reality had seized them that was as undeniable as it was
glorious.
The
experience of early Christians was nothing less than astonishing. The
Spirit had brought the gospel to them “not only in word . . . but also
in power and with full
conviction” (1 Thessalonians 1:5). The Spirit had suffused them
with joy when, harassed and discriminated against, there was no earthly
reason for their rejoicing.
Week
after week at their worship the Spirit vivified the preaching and
rendered it the vehicle of Christ’s seizing them afresh. The Spirit
inspired their worship, making their praise lively and life-giving. The
Spirit collapsed walls within congregational life so that hostile
stand-offs gave way to genuine fellowship.
The
Spirit was the power by which they were fortified to resist—and more
than resist, oppose by exemplifying something better—the lurid
blandishments of a social environment whose sex ethic bore no
resemblance to the command and claim of the Holy God. (The church in
Corinth, it must be remembered, existed in a seaport that was as
notorious for its sex trade as are certain cities in Southeast Asia
today.)
“Spirit”
is the English translation of “pneuma,” the Greek word meaning
“wind,” “breath” or “air.” A pneumatic drill has power
enough to crack reinforced concrete, overcoming all resistance. At the
same time, the highest-speed dental drills, air-driven, facilitate
ultra-delicate surgery even as they relieve pain and promote health. A
car with an airless tire goes nowhere, and any animated creature without
breath is dead. Everywhere in Scripture, pneuma is associated with power
and life.
Yet
the risen, ruling Lord Jesus Christ pours forth the Holy
Spirit in order that His people—alive, alert, active in His
name—might be rendered holy inwardly and display it outwardly. Such
holiness must never be confused with religious knowledge. While the
Hebrew word for “holy” means “separate” or “different,” the
difference the Holy Spirit makes isn’t trivial. It has to do, rather,
with what lies at the root or foundation of life.
Indeed,
the “Root Commandment” of Scripture is God’s command in Leviticus
19:2, “You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” In fact
Scripture is so preoccupied with holiness, both God’s and ours, that
variations of this commandment appear on virtually every page. God is
clearly consumed with reaffirming His own holiness in the wake of
sinners having denied it, and re-establishing our holiness in the wake
of sinners having turned away from it.
The
purpose of the cross, the centrepoint of Scripture, isn’t that we
should be forgiven—it’s that we should be rendered holy, forgiveness
being the first step toward our holiness. Obviously nothing is more
important than the recovery of our holiness, not least because without
it we shall not “see the Lord” (Hebrews 12:14). In other words,
Spirit-wrought holiness is the
qualification for our ultimate blessedness, our apprehension of God in
which we find ourselves “lost in wonder, love and praise,” to quote
an old hymn.
If
we are going to be “lost” in this sense, we must first become
“lost” in a different sense now: the world must be crucified to us
as we are crucified to the world (Galatians 6:14). In other words, the
Holy Spirit empowers Christ’s people for holy living as there ceases
to be anything in us that a fallen world can exploit and there ceases to
be anything in a fallen world that we crave. Holiness means that we
can’t be co-opted by sin’s agenda and we don’t long for what sin
offers.
At
this point holiness is synonymous with freedom. Christ’s people, being
made holy through the power of the Spirit, are being freed from all that
inhibits their full-flowering as children of God and at the same time
are being freed for their vocation as servants of the Master Himself.
Now there springs forth from them transparent love, uncontrived joy,
peace patience, kindness, “gentle strength” (meekness) and
self-control. Freed from the clutches of their depraved self, Christ’s
people cease to live in themselves and live elsewhere—specifically,
“in” two others: in Christ by faith, and in their neighbours through
love as they assist the needy, suffer with the pained and share the
shame of the disgraced (to paraphrase Martin Luther).
Yet
the Holy Spirit renders God’s people holy not merely as an end in
itself. The Spirit moves us to witness, vivifies our witness and
guarantees its efficacy. To be sure, witness is always the
responsibility of the Church. (In Acts, no one comes to faith in Jesus
Christ apart from the community’s witness.) At the same time, only the
Holy Spirit renders such witness effective. Testimony is our
responsibility; success is God’s.
Whenever
the Church forgets this (usually because we find the Spirit moving too
slowly), it attempts to engineer the success of its own mission. The
result is counter-productive, since the Church, in its impatience,
coerces people psychologically or even physically. When it coerces, the
Church advertises its unbelief, since it plainly doesn’t trust God to
do what God alone can.
Genuinely
to believe in the Holy Spirit, however, is to pursue our responsibility
concerning witness while trusting God to honour His.
It
is much the same with the Kingdom-work that Christians undertake. We
must work as if everything depended on us, and pray as if everything
depended on the Spirit. In fact there’s no “as if” about it.
Everything does depend on us
even as all effectiveness, all kingdom-success, depends on the Spirit
alone.
Victor
Shepherd of Toronto is professor of systematic and historical theology
at Tyndale University College and Seminary, and a minister of the
Presbyterian Church in Canada.