Sitting in those wooden bleachers of the high school gym, we watched as our basketball team struggled just to stay in the game. We were not a basketball school. We were also not a football school. But regardless, we had school spirit, which was saying something. It was the 90s, the era of alternative music and flannel shirts, which didn’t always fit school spirit. But the cheerleaders were leading us in that cheer. “We have spirit, yes we do. We have spirit, how about you?” And we had practiced during the pep rally, one side of the gym, “We have spirit, yes we do. We have spirit, how about you?” And then the other side in return, “We have spirit, yes we do. We have spirit, how about you?” And back and forth as the cheerleaders pointed at either side of the gym until everything broke down and everyone screamed over the other, “We have more, we have more.” That if we couldn’t win the game, maybe we’d win the cheer.

It was about seven weeks ago when we celebrated Pentecost, the birthday of the church and the arrival of the Spirit of God. It was part of Jesus’s promise to send an advocate to stay with us, to work on our behalf. And I am thankful to say it has never been about having more spirit than another. It is simply God’s gift to us that we are never alone. There’s always a hand to hold, a friend to consult, a community to depend on. That none of us is supposed to do this life by ourselves, that we have spirit, yes we do.

And as we are shaped by and share in the Spirit of God, oftentimes we misunderstand it. That it has little to do with excitement or exuberance like a cheer at a pep rally, that it has more to do with the steady, faithful, enduring presence of God. It is about forgiveness and redemption and transformation. It is an invitation to participate in God’s new creation, in the gift of salvation.

As N. T. Wright, that New Testament scholar, says, “Salvation is not just God’s gift to the people. It is God’s gift through the people. Not just to us, but through us.” That that is the work of the Spirit of God, that we are not only shaped by the grace of God, we share in the grace of God. As N. T. Wright says, “We’re not saved from this world. We are saved for this.”

And it’s why Paul speaks of the Spirit of God dwelling within us. And I know that there are times where that is hard to see, like trying to get out of the door last minute on Sunday morning where everybody is coming apart. But initially, Paul paints this split screen, flesh on one side, spirit on the other. The flesh leads to death, the spirit leads to life. And there are dangers in this world, choices that we can make that have harmful consequences.

I remember years ago going whitewater canoeing on the French Broad River. It’s not a technical river or hard to navigate with a canoe, but I had a good friend who owned a canoe and we’d go up on Saturdays and he knew far more about the river than I did, so he sat in the back because that’s where you steer. And if you don’t steer correctly and enter the rapids correctly, they will dump you out in the river. And I sat in the front and just did what I was told. But then one weekend my brother and his friends came to visit. So we took them canoeing on that Saturday. And because there was more of them, we had to rent additional canoes. And because they knew nothing about the river, I had to sit in the back and steer. And every time we hit a rapid, whether it was big or small, we tipped over. Without fail, we failed.

That if we lean too much in one direction, we can tip over, that there are decisions we can make that are harmful to us and to others. A careless word, a hidden agenda, an impulsive choice, a selfish outlook, a short-sighted decision. But Paul, even though he has this split screen, has not forgotten the story of creation, where God looks out on everything and everyone and says, it is good. And even though there are consequences in the garden, all is not lost. That Paul’s primary message is not warning, it is an invitation, that we are invited to share in God’s new creation, for the Spirit dwells within us.

It’s like the tabernacle where the people of God were wandering through the wilderness, but every night they set up that tent and God’s Spirit descended upon them and dwelled with them. And it’s like the Word became flesh where the light shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it. And it’s like the book of Revelation where it says, “See the home of God is among mortals. God will dwell with them and they will be God’s people.” That God comes to dwell with us, to heal, to redeem, to restore, that we’re not saved from this. We are saved for it.

The Gospel of Matthew says that Jesus saw the crowds and he hopped up in a boat and he turned around and taught them in parables. There was once a farmer sowing seeds, throwing them in all directions. Some of them fell on the hard path where they could not take root and the evil came and snatched them away. Some fell amongst the rocky ground, where in the face of our troubles we lose sight of what is important and the sun scorches them. Others fell amongst the thorns, where like wealth they were choked and could not grow. And then finally others fell on the good soil bearing good fruit, like fruit of the Spirit.

And we might assume this is about Paul calling us to escape the dangers of this world, but it’s more about Paul extending an invitation, reminding us that we are saved for this, to bear good fruit for the needs around us. But the good news is we don’t make the seeds grow.

I love that project that happens in most elementary schools where the teacher walks around the room handing out small paper cups and then puts a little bit of soil in each one of them. And then the students take a seed and they’ll loosen up the soil a little bit and plant it. And they carefully carry it home riding on the school bus. And then they put some water in it and leave it on the windowsill of the kitchen. And every morning they get up and they wander into the kitchen looking at that cup of soil, just waiting. Until one morning when they are wiping sleepy from their eyes, they notice that the plant has broken ground and is reaching up towards the light.

That we don’t have to make the seeds grow. We just make room in our lives for the Spirit of God, that we loosen the soil and prepare the ground through listening, that posture of openness and humility. And then we water it through prayerful worship and faithful service and a discerning heart. And then we wait, that we rest our lives in the hands of God. And then we are surprised, time and time again, in ways we would never expect or foresee, that we are surprised by the joy of God. Not because we are escaping this world, because we are bearing fruit. Amen.