Jesus told them, “You don’t get to know the time. Timing is God’s business. What you’ll get is the Holy Spirit.” — Acts 1: 7-8
More will be revealed. I learned this phrase years ago in Alanon, a program of recovery for family and friends of alcoholics, and now I say it all the time. Whenever I am unsure how something will resolve or the future seems unclear (i.e., almost always) speaking these words reminds me that (a) I am not expected (or able) to control how things work out and (b) what I know now is only a portion of what there is to know. Greater understanding, deeper insight and new levels of healing will come as I honestly and faithfully engage the tools of recovery. I don’t need to know the outcome; I can trust the process.
“More will be revealed” is good theology. It’s not the same as saying “it will all work out” which may or may not be true and can lead to resignation or denial of agency and responsibility. It’s more akin to saying, “God is doing a new thing” (Isaiah 43) or, “God is always doing more than we could ever ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3). It is a statement of faith that invites us to engage with expectant curiosity and wonder in times of uncertainty, rather than be stuck in fear and anxiety.
This phrase seems particularly apt for this moment in our liturgical calendar. Here we are mid-week between Ascension Sunday and Pentecost — between Jesus being “taken up in a cloud from their sight” and the coming of the Holy Spirit with wind and fire. Scripture doesn’t say how long it was between these two events, only that right before he left them, Jesus promised the Holy Spirit would come — but they don’t get to know when. In other words, “more will be revealed.”
Whether we believe events happened this way or not, I’m imagining we all have felt ourselves in a similar liminal space: when someone or something we relied on for safety, identity or connection to the Holy has disappeared and the new thing has not yet emerged. It can be an unsettling, scary, lonely time. It probably was for those early disciples. And I’m guessing they did their fair share of anxious fretting. But they also engaged the tools of faith: praying continually and gathering in community trusting that this moment of uncertainty was not the end. And then the Holy Spirit showed up, just like Jesus promised She would.
More will be revealed. May it be so. Amen.