PENTECOST 2005 
From the Editor... Drift
 
William Orr changed my life.
 
I knew I was in the presence of someone unusual when I first heard about him through a friend.  He had a stroke in his 80's, and, as a first rate New Testament scholar, he lost his ability to use either English or Greek.  So how did he respond? He taught himself both languages again, and used his final years on earth to tutor seminarians in Greek for free as a ministry.
 
I was one of his students, and while I was ostensibly there to learn Greek, what I learned more about was life (isn't that always the way with great teachers?).
 
Of all the lessons he taught me, the most powerful was about the person and work of the Holy Spirit.  As we were working through a passage in John's gospel, the Holy Spirit came up as a topic, and when I asked him about the subject, he didn't even hesitate in answer to my query.
 
Drift, he said.  You can imagine my response to a one word answer on a subject as vast as that! Drift? What did he mean talking about drift?
 
Think of your life as a being in a sailboat, he said, and realize that the Holy Spirit guides as a wind (the very image Jesus uses in John 3). Sometimes, the Holy Spirit will guide through a strong direct word or work like a dramatic shift in the breeze.  Many days will be spent very ordinarily, floating along on the water, but with an imperceptible direction nonetheless.  But to be a Christian means to be a sensitive sailor because though you may feel you are simply drifting along, unbeknownst to you a series of circumstances may be changed in your life.  If you look carefully, you can sense the wind beginning to shift. If it does, be ready to be guided afresh, he said.  Pay attention.
 
It was many years after that, toward the end of the second year in my curacy, that my best friend, the rector with whom I was working, my bishop, and then my wife encouraged me to do doctoral work.  It took until my wife's prodding for me to pay attention more carefully, but when I did, I realized that over the last year or so, the wind had shifted. I opened my sail a little and the shift took greater shape.  Eventually I ended up at Oxford University, as the Spirit blew where He willed.
 
Pentecost is a reminder to us that the heart posture of a Christian is an openness to God's wind. It means every day is an adventure.  It means that the wind may occasionally suddenly rush in, but that more often we are to celebrate the extraordinary blessing of apparently ordinary days.  Above all, it means learning the great Good news that we are not in charge, and therefore we are to be sensitive to shifts in circumstances and feelings which accumulate directions over time.
 
On the first birthday of the church, there were tongues like fire which surprised all those present.  I think about those tongues every Pentecost, but I also think of a man in his eighties who taught himself Greek again in order to teach it to me. I recall, too, that in the midst of one apparently ordinary Greek lesson I learned an extraordinary lesson about the Holy Spirit, because my boat drifted into the harbor of William Orr.


The Rev. Canon Dr. Kendall S. Harmon

Contact Dr Harmon by e-mail at ksharmon@mindspring.com

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