We know that Christians are meant to strive towards the perfection of Christ. One of the reasons we commemorate the apostles and great saints of the church is because they are exemplars of that holy perfection. However, if I am honest, it is very comforting to me to read hagiographies that describe not perfect angels but very human, very relatable people, who are just as fallible as you and I. Perhaps that is why I especially love those bits of scripture that show Jesus and the disciples being human in ways we can all relate to.

In the reading from Acts this week, Paul has one of those moments. A local slave girl, possessed by a spirit of divination, follows him and his companions around, yelling at them and about them. Presumably after several days, this gets under Paul’s skin, because the text describes him as being ‘very much annoyed.’ I can certainly imagine I would be too!

The key is that, when Paul gets annoyed, he is still focused on the cross of Christ. He is not perfect, in the understanding of perfection as the absence of human weakness. Instead, the perfection he is striving towards is that which allows him to speak and act to the glory of God, even in his weak moments. His frustration is directed towards the spirit, not the human it possesses. It leads to an exorcism that frees her, not a rebuke that chastises her.

I like this way of looking at perfection: not as some unattainable goal that keeps moving further away the more we run after it, but as something that instead moves towards us, colouring and shaping our humanity in all its fulness, transforming our intentions so that they work not for our own desires but for the realization of the Kingdom of God.

Mother Amanda

Click here to find the Liturgy at Home for Sunday

In the last parish we served in England, we had amongst our regular attendees, a woman with learning difficulties who was also unable to speak. When preparing for confirmation one year it became known that this woman wanted to be confirmed. However, how did we know this was her decision as she couldn’t communicate her decision in the usually accepted ways? Eventually I was asked to attend a case conference at the woman’s residential home where carers, myself and her advocate were present to determine how we should proceed.

We went back and forth for a for about half an hour trying to work out if this person did want to be confirmed. Eventually one of her careers said: six days of the week, this woman rarely wanted to get up in a hurry, was slow getting washed and dressed, and took her time eating breakfast. Yet on Sundays she was up, dressed and ready to leave for church by 9am. Her advocate, (who had a major part in the decision), said that was good enough for her. The woman was duly prepared and confirmed by our bishop. Ever since the word advocate, as it appears in the gospel text today, takes on for me special and profound meaning.

In our lives there are times when we require an advocate to assist us and other times when we act as an advocate for someone else. They can speak for us, guide or direct us, but ultimately what we do, or don’t do, is up to us. It is the same with the Holy Spirit. We can be guided or directed to follow the way of God, or we can choose not to follow. The decision is ours, and we are reminded today that our advocate, the Holy Spirit can support and encourage us on our journey.

Father Stephen Rowe

Click here to find the Liturgy at Home for Sunday