Whoosh!

The wind is an ever-present reality in our little sphere. It can be gentle as a whisper or strong enough to knock things over. Out on the South Plains of Texas, the wind was nearly an everyday thing. Some places are like that. It is amazing, when you think about it, that a completely invisible thing can be so real a force. I responded to a writing challenge years ago to go with the topic of wind chimes:

The wind
Movement of air
swift or gentle
neither seen nor heard
known only by its effects
Hear it in the trees
See the branches jostling
It whistles in crevasses
Brushes cross the skin

Wind chimes wait…
     for the breeze
their weights dangle
from their cords
barely moving
until light gusts push
pipes, blocks, shards
or crystals: instruments
suspended
the swing their way
to gentle collisions, sounding out
with vibrations, rhythms unforeseen
Their random peels make music
Their tones or tinkling offer
wind-powered serenades.     —David Price

I am sure some of my thinking was influenced by the wonderful conversation Jesus has with Nicodemus in the third chapter of John. That is the appointed reading for this day in the Easter Weekday Eucharistic lessons today. Nicodemus was one of the Pharisees up in the influential bodies of the Jerusalem Temple. He seems to have had a strong curiosity about the rabbi Jesus of Nazareth, because he came to him, rather secretly, at night to learn something about him. John records an opening line of Nicodemus that is affirming: “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher sent by God; no one could perform these signs of yours unless God were with him.” But then a very odd and mismatched back-and-forth takes place—

Jesus –
In truth, I tell you, unless a man has been born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.

Nicodemus –
But how is it possible for a man to be born when he is old? Can he enter his mother’s womb again and be born?

Jesus –

To enter the kingdom of God is impossible, I tell you, unless one is born from water and spirit, Flesh can give birth only to flesh; it is spirit that gives birth to spirit. You ought not to be astonished, then, when I tell you that you must be born again. The wind blows where it wills; you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from, or where it is going. So with everyone who is born from the spirit.

Nicodemus –  How is this possible?

Poor Nicodemus, he and Jesus are speaking from two different planes. Their conversation is along with two divergent modes of seeking unity with God. The Pharisee is looking for the formula of human effort and action that can affect righteousness before God: removing the barrier of sin by pure adherence to the law. The second is that of looking to what God the Holy Spirit, the Wind of God, brings about within a person, quite without human works. The first is a human project of attempting to reach across a chasm to God. The second is a divine initiative: the breath of God reaching us invisibly and effectively, in power.

Perhaps in the images Jesus uses is an invitation to humility. Nicodemus and all of us have to let go of our need for a pattern that we can control ourselves, and allow God to do for us that which we cannot do for ourselves. We have as much control over our second birth as we did over our first one: none. We have as much control over the Spirit reaching us to let us into the kingdom as we have over the wind-moving branches or windchimes according to our design: none. It is an exercise in trust, and letting go.

The next time you hear wind chimes sounding out into the air, thank God, let go, and open up and let the Spirit carry you into the realm of grace.