Bus story
The young man with the leather jacket and styled hair fixed his eye on the cross on my necklace as I boarded, following me with a steady gaze as I worked my way past the front benches and eventually slipped into one of the few vacant seats midway down the long length of the city bus.
Men in their early 20s with his kind of hard-faced, cool-guy look usually head straight for the back, rarely choosing the priority seating in the front where mothers with strollers, old women with shopping bags and people with mobility issues plunk themselves with weary resignation, hoping the riffraff will pass them by without bother.
But there he was, sitting between a new immigrant and an obese older man looking straight at me. As soon as I settled he caught my eye. “See you on Sunday, eh?" he said in a loud, clear voice that captured the attention of everyone on the bus. I nodded politely, then pulled out my book and began to read. The bus moved on. Obviously he'd confused me with somebody else.
Two stops later the bus was full and people were standing in the aisles. Suddenly, through a gap between bodies I heard a piercing voice cut through the chatter of the passengers like an icicle slicing through a snowdrift. “You can say anything you want about the Father," it shouted. “You can say anything you want about the Son. But don't mess with the Holy Ghost."
Our startled eyes all swiveled to the young man who gazed straight ahead with a determined look on his face. Then, just as quickly, we all returned to our solitudes. Nobody seemed eager to enter this conversation--certainly not me. After all, I had a good book on my lap and a 15-minute ride to a welcome lunch meeting. Who wants to talk about controversial spiritual topics on a crowded bus?
After an awkward silence, the normal hubbub of a group of clustered strangers resumed. I was back in my book when the irksome voice once again shattered our comfort zones with its grating refrain. “You can say anything you want about the Father," he bellowed with bullhorn volume. “You can say anything you want about the Son. But don't mess with the Holy Ghost."
Again, all the passengers directed our embarrassed eyes toward the young man who, I discovered, was looking directly at me. “Hey, you," he called, dispelling any doubt that I was the target of his questioning. “Hey you! What do you think about that?"
Unforgiveable sin
Thoughts began tumbling through my mind like rocks in an avalanche. Clearly he'd been musing on the verses in the Gospels that call blasphemy against the Holy Spirit an eternal or unforgiveable sin. But my own understanding of that teaching was quite different than apparent liberty to blast the Son of God but damnation for slipping that sacrilege into the realm of the third person of the Trinity.
It came to me that one of the roles of the Holy Spirit is to guide us into truth. The Holy Spirit is an agent of the Godhead active in the hearts and minds and affairs of people. Those who make a habit of resisting the impulses of God that the Spirit sends our way are choosing a pathway that leads away from God. And those who align themselves with demons (e.g. Mark 3:30) are clearly unconcerned about God's forgiveness. God eventually stops chasing those who cut themselves off from Him. They damn themselves.
“Hey you! What do you think about that?" The haunting words echoed through my mindscape and the crowded corridor of the bus. I met his gaze and waited for the words to come. They came. “I'm not so sure I agree with you," I said. “I believe Father, Son and Holy Spirit are all one. They cannot really be divided like that."
If I'd anticipated an argument, I was disappointed. My words hung in the air. He looked searchingly at me. The bus slowed for the next stop. “Goodbye," he said, as he made his way to the door, stepped outside and disappeared along the busy sidewalk. I looked around the bus. No one was looking my way. I returned to my book.
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