Leaving room for the unexpected

a meditation on Pentecost and Barry Manilow

This week I saw Barry Manilow perform live in front of a packed arena. I had no real idea what to expect. As my three sisters are lifelong ‘Fanilows’ and the (great) seats were a generous gift from a brother-in-law, I knew the songs would be familiar, but I could never have predicted how much I would love this show. 81-year-old Manilow sounded 35, his musicality and authenticity were off the charts, the familiar lyrics hit in unexpected ways, and wellsprings of emotion were right on the surface. I left that show a new unexpectedly big fan of an artist whose career has spanned every decade I’ve been alive.

Even when you think you know how things are going to go, I guess we never really know what’s possible.

In the scripture readings for this week, the disciples are experiencing so much that was unexpected. Their friend Jesus had returned from the dead and stayed with them and taught for forty days. Jesus promises the gift of the Holy Spirit (a thing they cannot imagine), tells them they’ll be His witnesses throughout the world (without explaining how exactly to do that), and then they watch as Jesus is taken up into the clouds (an impossible thing). Their response to all of this is maybe what ours would have been: confusion about the current state of things and practical questions about what will happen next.

“When they had gathered together they asked him,
‘Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?’
He answered them, ‘It is not for you to know the times or seasons
that the Father has established by his own authority.
But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you,
and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem,
throughout Judea and Samaria,
and to the ends of the earth.’”

Acts 1:6-8

In these unsettled times, there is a lot that I do know. I know the difference between right and wrong. I know the teachings of Jesus (and I can identify an antithetical ‘Christian’ teaching when I hear one, too). I know from history how so much of what we currently see in our politics and government can go so badly wrong. I know who I am, and I know my values. Still, I find myself wanting to pin God down about what will happen next – in the country, in the church, in my own life and in the lives of my dear ones, but the answer God gives me is the same He gave to those first friends:

“It is not for you to know…”

Well, I don’t love this answer, and to be honest, I never really have, but God’s ways are higher than my ways and I’ve lived long enough to see God work through enough events and seasons and people to know that I don’t have the whole story and I can’t always predict how things will unfold. No, it’s not for us to know, but it’s also true that for people of faith, nothing we’ll do in response to any event comes from our own power. We can’t always guess at what’s to come, and though we sometimes try, we can’t prepare for every eventuality. After all, before walking into the arena last week, I knew lots of Manilow music, but I did not know how that music and experience would affect my heart and spirit, how it would change me. Similarly¹, the promised gift of the Holy Spirit is more power than we can now know as we trust Him to work in and through us in real time, no matter what.

Like the disciples who watched Jesus ascend and like me at that incredible concert this week, we can find ourselves looking up and shaking our heads in amazement at a thing we never could have predicted or make happen on our own. We can stand in awe at how good it can be and how it was all prepared in time outside of our view, ready for us to respond and participate in it, one step at a time. I’ve had many experiences like this in my lifetime, and I hope you have, too. If we can leave room for the unexpected and even impossible move of God, and participate in it the best we can, who knows what we will yet see.

pic: Shauna Vaughan

Raised Catholic rewind:

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What I’m listening to/reading/recommending this week:

Practice: noticing details in trees and flowers, slowing down

Book: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith

Album: Jesus, by Jon Guerra

Song: All the Time, by Barry Manilow

Prayer:

God, there is so much we can’t see. Help us to be open to what you’re bringing into our experience that we could not begin to expect, and help us to participate in it for the good of ourselves and our brothers and sisters in Your Name.

For us and our dear ones we pray, Lord, help us, amen.

1. am I the first to ever compare Barry Manilow with the Holy Spirit? maybe so.