To be honest, I'm a Jerk

I come from a long line of jerks.  My father is a jerk as are many of my uncles and some of my cousins (both male and female).   Fortunately, God has sought to surround the jerks in my family with non-jerks.  My brother, my partner and my mother each contend with our jerkish behavior with kindness, love and patience.  They each have played referee, therapist and confessor to my and my family's jerkish ways.

In the height of my jerkishness, right about in high school, my father and I would have epic arguments.  We'd argue over some insignificant thing and go days, weeks and in one instance, a whole summer without talking to each other.  And if anyone pointed out that we were more alike than different, well that would add another day or week to the churlish silence between us.

During that time, my mother, the chief non-jerk in residence made one simple rule that even we did not oppose.  No matter what, all of us ate together.  Even if the only sounds that emanated from the table were of forks touching plates, we were expected to commune together.   It was unpleasant and uncomfortable, but it reminded us that even in our most abject jerkishness, we lived under one roof and ate one common meal.

Over the past several weeks, I've heard a few people refer to the Holy Spirit as a "she."  Although, I still often refer to the Spirit as gender neutral, I see the binding nature of the Spirit in my mother's simple rule: Abide with each other even if you can't live with each other.  Even if the Holy Spirit isn't entirely female, It certainly exhibits a mother's devotion to keep people at the common table, even when they don't share much else in common.

Last week, the United Methodist Church held its quadrennial conference.  One of its most debated votes reaffirmed the UMC's stance that homosexual acts are inconsistent with the denomination's understanding of Christian teaching.  The vote left many on both sides hurt, angry and feeling disenfranchised.  From the various blogs I've read, the body left the assembly feeling anything but "United".  Even though I wasn't there, as a former UMC member, I felt that disunion and heartache personally.

Yet I am convinced that even though the hurt was palatable in that moment, the Holy Spirit moved in that assembly as It works in the world.  The Spirit's work is measured in centuries and not in days, weeks or even months.   When the Church wrestled with schism, anathema and heresy before, the Spirit was there among them and kept everyone coming back to the table to share a common meal, even the jerks.  Like a mother patiently waiting for her children to come home to dinner, the Holy Spirit awaits for perfect unity and harmony for all Her children.

This Mother's Day, I will thank God for my mother, the mothers in my life,  holy Mother Church and the motherly nature of the Holy Spirit.