Abiding – Easter IV, 24 April 2015

All who obey his commandments abide in him, and he abides in them. And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit that he has given us. [I John 3:24 – part of the Epistle for Easter IV]

These words are among the last of the teachings that made it into the New Testament.  These are the mature thoughts of people whose lives, changed long before by the resurrection of Jesus, have now been tested by a lifetime of witness and suffering.  These are things some of our earliest forebears in the faith want us to know.   It is John, both in his gospel and here, who gives us the Greek word which we translate “abide” – an English word which is not in very common use, to bear the meaning of the Greek verb μενειν.  “Abide” is richer and deeper than “stay”, or “remain”, or “dwell”, or various other attempts to find a more common English word.  Jesus said, Abide in me and I in you.  It is a bond and a relationship which is settled and no longer up for review.  It is “for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health”… as it were.  It is actually very close to the traditional and ancient Benedictine vow of Stability.  Abide means that the bond is set, in life and in death.  Moreover, it entails not only that I abide in him, but that he is abiding in me, with the same permanency, the same commitment, in all my unsatisfactoriness – in an act of unconditional loving grace. 

John teaches that we know this abiding by the Spirit that he has given us.  It is a quiet inner conviction, a deep knowing.  This bond exists in the part of us which motivates all the rest.  It is at a deeper level than debate and experiment and seeing if we like something, or if it’s a good fit, or if it works out.  It is nourished by silence and stillness – as though somehow the Spirit Jesus spoke of waits patiently until he has our attention, our agendas are being now set aside and our ego instructed to be still for a little while.  Mother Teresa, admired everywhere for her busy good works, nevertheless insisted that she and her sisters knew how to be still and wait, at appointed times each day. 

These days it has become hard to avoid the frequent reports of the continuing persecution and martyrdom of Christians.  It is not that these Christians have done anything aggressive.  In the main they are Christian believers going about their lives in peace.  They are being persecuted, alienated, expelled from their homes and livelihoods, and submitted to atrocity, simply because they are Christians – and the climate for Christian belief, like weather patterns, is changing and getting more difficult.  In numerous places, in Libya and Syria, in Nigeria and North Korea, in India and Indonesia, and elsewhere, the lives of Christian believers is becoming perilous.  There is a lot we can say about this, but I have been pondering the bond, the abiding, which Christian believers are increasingly needing to learn and know.  If our children and grandchildren are believers, they will need to know the pathways of silence and stillness, of contemplative life and prayer – a life, in St Paul’s words, that is hid with Christ in God.