Waiting and Spiritual Formation—a reflection on Acts 1

I was brought up in a religious tradition which was highly liturgical and though I have long since left it, I’ve learned to appreciate more and more the things that have stuck with me from those days.

I remember Lent in particular. On Good Friday all the statues in the sanctuary were covered over and we called to mind the events of those desperate days in the Stations of the Cross. On the following Sunday, the beginning of the season of Easter, all colour and life returned to religious observance in the celebration of resurrection. But the Saturday in between was an awkward day. We called it Holy Saturday, which always struck me as a kind of embarrassed reflection of the fact that but we didn’t know what to do with it.

Now I realise that Holy Saturday was a necessary in-between time if the celebration of Resurrection Sunday was to be understood in its fullness. It was the vital prelude to the embrace of what followed. The more I think about these things the more I notice that these kind of awkward in-betweens are a common feature of Christian faith.

They re-appear in the days after resurrection for instance. Jesus had forewarned the disciples that he was leaving and sending someone better equipped for the task of spreading good news. The prospect of this Greater One must have been tremendously sustaining for them, but the transition unfolds in an unusual way.

If I had been Christianity’s spin doctor back then I would have advised Jesus to manage the handover carefully. This potentially world-changing movement whose charismatic leader was departing in favour of his successor would need a strong start. All the more so since the earliest members were so…well…socially awkward, to be kind to them. I’d probably stage a spectacular handover, seamlessly moving from resurrection to ascension to descent of the Spirit all in a matter of moments.

Instead we get a bizarre inter-regnum where the date of handover is never confirmed (maybe this is where Tony Blair got his ideas!). Jesus hangs on for forty days, sometimes here, sometimes not, in these strange, intermittent visits.

Finally, we get this fantastic departure. Then, nothing. NOTHING. Ten days of absolutely nothing.

Did heaven get its scheduling wrong?

The disciples are faced with yet another strange interim period when there is nothing to do but wait. I’m tempted to imagine this as wasted opportunity. Unless the waiting was an essential part of their preparation.

These strange ‘in-between’ periods makes me uncomfortable. Especially so, because evangelicals are not accustomed to it. We want things to happen. We want to make sense of things, to make the best use of time. But the biblical account forces us to confront this period of inactivity. We want to get the show on the road but we have to wait. Here we endure a liturgical stopover on a journey to another place, an enforced period of inactivity between the leaving and the reaching of a destination.

It seems to me now that there is a connection between this waiting and the coming of the Holy Spirit. And that this interim period is more important than we know, possibly even essential, to the readiness for all that follows.

I think we need to learn the discipline of waiting during periods of apparent abandonment.

• because this is the nature of God. With all the power at his disposal he takes 7 days to make the world. Instead of righting the world after the Fall he takes generations to work out his play, so that Jesus comes ‘when the time had fully come’. If we want to become more like God we need periods of waiting.
• because we need to be reminded that only God is God and that we are not. He doesn’t do things our way. He is sovereign and works in his own time. We cannot manipulate his timetable by our activity, our techniques, not even by our strongest desires.
• because we need to be weaned  off of the need to walk by sight and not by faith. When we can hold fast, and pray hard when God appears to have left us, then we are ready for the coming of the Spirit.
• because we need to know that God works in and through people. Imagine what it was like in that Upper Room. Tough, outspoken Peter, Mary Magdalene with the dubious past, Matthew the former crook, Simon the paramilitary. Thomas, the negativist. Could they really change the world? But in this time of waiting they pray and they learn that the Holy Spirit is not a substitute for getting on with annoying people. He doesn’t come to relieve us from having to get things done through cooperation and community.
• because we need time to learn good habits. It is important for us to realise, and perhaps it is an act of faith, that there is as much spiritual formation going on in the 10 days as when they listen to Peter’s sermon at Pentecost. These 10 days of relying on one another and praying together lays a strong foundation so that when the action happens they are not overwhelmed by the power and presence of the Spirit.

Without that time, it would be easy to chase the Spirit for what he delivers, rather than who he is. Without the benefit of mature habit they will be seduced by the spectacle, something to which I think we evangelicals are particularly prone.

We need to be careful not to despise Interim Periods.

Conclusion
After the Interim Period of preparation and formation there is finally a neat transition between what they were and what they are. A seamless join between the presence of Jesus and the indwelling of the Spirit. It comes as a natural thing, not unnatural. The disciples needed to wait to learn this. They needed to learn that the kingdom comes not by power and might to sweep all away as an emperor might. But the kingdom comes by stealth. Through the servant. Through the last among them. Waiting weaned them off the need to see the kingdom come and tear down the powers that inhabited the world by display of power and force.

To the extent that we view the HS as the missing link in our strategy to win the world, we need to learn to wait. And we will.

And one final thing. Just as He acts in his time, we often notice that he was among us according to his timetable.

And while we continue to wait for some mighty display, God through his spirit does a quiet work among ordinary people. So that like those on the Road to Emmaus we can say when we look back, did not our hearts burn in our chests while he spoke to us…and we didn’t recognise him…’

We need to learn not to despise the interim times. At least not before learning to recognise the grace of God among us today. The Spirit comes in his time, not according to our techniques or our effort. He is sovereign

He may not come as we expect, and if we’re rushing we may miss him. Not because he didn’t come, but because we were looking in the wrong place..