WIND, WATER AND SPIRIT

 The anticipation of fall means waiting for good sailing weather. Here is my 22-foot vintage sailboat Anastasia. Built in 1979, Anastasia is a bit weathered like me but is in very good shape. Her name, Anastasia, is the Greek/New Testament word for Resurrection. I have loved sailing ever since living in New Orleans for seminary and learning to sail on Lake Ponchartrain.

Water, wind, earth, and fire. Christine Valters Paintner reminds us that these are the four essential elements of the Creation (Earth: Our Original Monastery. Notre Dame, IN: Sorin Books, 2020, page 59). We can experience two of these – water and wind – in the ancient activity of sailing a boat.

Jesus reminded Nicodemus, "The wind blows where it will (John 3:8)." He was referring to the divine sovereignty and unpredictability of Spirit. Such is the work of God, as we await the fair winds of autumn.

Well-known preacher, teacher and writer Barbara Brown Taylor once said, “I think we’d like life to be like a train, but it turns out to be a sailboat.” And indeed, our lives do not always run along on predictable “tracks” but instead are subject to changes and course corrections. Living is often more like sailing a boat than riding a train. Sailing a boat requires paying attention to the wind and making the necessary adjustments in response to wind direction and strength, currents and weather changes.

Nicodemus thought life was like a train – you pick your train, you get on and ride, and you get off. But Jesus told Nicodemus life is not like that. Jesus said life in the Spirit is like watching the wind: “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

Indeed, this is not the only place where we hear that the Spirit of God is like the wind. In fact, the Hebrew word for spirit is also the word for wind or breath. Likewise, the New Testament Greek word for spirit is also the word for wind. So Jesus was making a play on words.

The Bible says that on the day of Pentecost when the church was born, the arrival of the Holy Spirit was “like the rush of a mighty wind” (Acts 2:2). When the living God answered Job’s complaints, he spoke to him out of a whirlwind (Job 40:6).

The wind is a wonderfully mysterious thing. You can sit on a beach or on a hilltop and enjoy its presence, feel it on your face, and wonder what sights it has seen and what lands it has visited. Wind can turn the mighty metal crosses on windmills, generate power, or blow away your house. Wind can propel sailboats, provided the sailor knows how to cooperate with the wind rather than fight it or try to control it.

For centuries the sailboat has been used as a symbol of the church, moved by the power of the Spirit’s wind across the waters of chaos. Even our church furniture and buildings are described in nautical terms such as nave, pulpit. Church architecture often features high ceilings designed to represent an upside-down boat. The Spirit is to the church what the wind is to a sailor.

Just as Jesus said the work of the Spirit is like the wind, spiritual life is a little like sailing a boat.

Sailing a boat is a matter of watching the wind, trying to see where it is going and from what direction it comes, and adjusting your equipment accordingly. You cannot control the wind but you can learn to observe it and respond to it. When you become adept at “reading” the wind you can know the pleasure of being moved along across the water by a power that is not your own.

Sometimes the wind changes direction (“the wind blows where it wills”). You can only prepare for that and adjust to it. You must simply be watching for subtle shifts in the wind’s strength and direction, be on the lookout for the rippling water which signals these approaching changes, develop a sixth sense of where the wind is. You are not going to “harness” or “capture” the wind, but you become in tune with the wind, adjusting your sails and learning to enjoy the ride. So it is with spiritual life.

There is a profound peace and exhilaration in moving along under the wind’s power, hearing the sound of it flowing across the sails and the singing of the water gurgling along the sides of our boat. Paddling takes a great deal of effort, and running motors make a great deal of noise. Our only effort in sailing is in keeping our equipment in tune and our sense of observation sharp.

I have often thought the practice of prayer finds a deeper dimension when we are not trying to control or manipulate God, but to cooperate with God as the sailor cooperates with the wind, observing the movements of both water and wind, respecting their power, and adjusting the trim of our equipment in response.

For reflection: Prayer is not always about our asking God to bless what we are doing; prayer at its best is when we ask what the Spirit is doing and we seek to be a part of that.

"The wind blows where it will (John 3:8)."