The Advocate

On April first, in the spirit of foolishness and in the longing for spring, women from a local retirement community dressed the trees in the center of town with whimsical woolen wrappings they had knitted. It was quite a feat, and is a sight to behold.

Last week the songs of Ella Fitzgerald rippled over the radio, in honor of her birthday. Born into harsh poverty in then-legally segregated America, given no education to speak of, she became the First Lady of Song and the Queen of Jazz. She brought scat singing into the American songbook, with a voice that spanned three octaves, and rising from nothing, she became an icon of the American spirit.

Meanwhile, in Boston, only an hour away, where many of us have lived and some commute to work, the marathon bombings a week ago have been met with a spirit known as Boston Strong, a phrase that used to belong to sports teams and their fans, now an umbrella covering for all of us. It appears in a rainbow of colors, chalked on sidewalks and inked on T shirts, which, leaflike, are unfolding on human bodies all over the re-opened Copley Square.

All these arts are manifestations of spirit, and they can be identified with the Holy Spirit, which this week is named by Jesus in the gospel reading from John as a gift that will come to us.

But we are misled if we think they define the gift.

There had been manifestations before Jesus spoke of this, of course. The Breath of God is named on the first pages of Genesis as the Spirit hovering over the face of the waters. There has been no part of Creation and no day in the world in which the Spirit has been absent. John has already said as much in his Prologue: In the beginning was the Word . . . But Jesus is changing the focus now.

Jesus names the Holy Spirit to his friends, and to us, as The Advocate:

“ the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

Advocate is an adult name. The Spirit, though, is most often presented to us by the church as a child or as a bird – one who blesses, refreshes, enlivens, excites, inspires, runs free. But none of these qualities belong to the name Advocate, a serious, mature, intense worker. An advocate speaks, pleads, argues in favor, supports by argument, urges support . . . these are the definitions of advocate, and though we can make the connection between them and blessing, between them and enlivening, the connection is not automatic, and does not flow on the wings of emotional association.

I think Jesus intends us to engage the Spirit by stopping to think about it, Jesus wants us to find in the Spirit counsel for wisdom, not an emotional rush to joy. In Britain an advocate is a lawyer, and for Jesus, justice discerned in the context of injustice, is an essential part of the work the Holy Spirit is urging us to do. Peace is a work of justice. And justice is a fruit of peace. They will both be the Spirit’s prompting, as they are both the essence of all that Jesus has taught.

The Spirit is not here to provide us with sweetly pleasant days when we have not a care in the world. The Spirit is in this world to inspire us to meet our cares with peace and work to address the world’s wounds with justice.

In Boston, we have so far been able to stave off our raging reactions that would turn us to revenge, and instead set our feet into paths of thoughtful action for healing ourselves and all our wounded. So far, we are walking in peaceful ways. But it is not over yet. There is more to discover and more to discern, and we will need to keep our wits about us, remembering what it is that makes Boston strong.

For Americans who are Moslems, who are Chechens, who are Russians, who are recent immigrants, who are naturalized citizens, there is much anxiety now. And the whole world must be tense, watching to see what America will do next. Yet, we are a nation of immigrants, a nation of many faiths, a nation of people who arrived poor and worked hard to build a better life. May we remember this.

Jesus bids us all to become leaves on the branches of the kingdom Tree, which he says God is, he is, and we are: a Tree that shelters birds of every feather. Ella Fitzgerald, singing in the gift of the Spirit, gave us songs in which the words belong to no language at all, and yet speak to everyone, part of the sheltering Tree. The Exeter knitters show us the words of Jesus’ parable, that the kingdom Tree exists because someone tends it.

Here, then, are some wise and tending words from Ibn Arabi, a 10^th c. mystic, who speaks about the meaning of the kingdom, and also the meaning of Boston Strong: