Acts 2:1-6
When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each.
Today is Pentecost Sunday. Pentecost is another of those special days, like Palm Sunday and Easter, that can drive me to a moment or two of despair because they come around every year, not just once every three-years, and after 20 or so years I begin to feel like I really have said it all...several times. This is a story we all know – we’ve read the scripture, heard the sermons. Oh, woe is me.
But then I am reminded that this is God’s story, not mine. This is the church’s story, not mine. And this is Luke’s story, not mine, and I think we need to begin there. We’ve spoken lately about Acts being simply the direct continuation of Luke’s gospel and that Luke/Acts is dated as having been written between 60 and 80 years after the Easter event when historical memory might be getting a little shaky, to say the least.
But Luke is never about historical facticity - Luke’s narrative is a record of how the emerging church felt as a result of the events he describes. It was Luke after all who gave us the highly detailed Nativity story that we love so much at Christmas time - a story complete with a sky filled with singing angels – that no one seemed to notice or remember later. Luke isn’t describing something as it really happened. He describes the event’s effect on believers and on their future perceptions. In Luke’s vision the birth of Jesus into the human world was such a momentous event it deserved to have choirs of angels – that’s how important it was. That’s the truth rather than the fact of that story.
And so to Pentecost. Since Jesus’ departure the Jesus community has been quiet. They don’t appear to have done anything much but they are doing something – they are praying, and they are waiting for God to act ..... and then a wind begins to blow. A wind just like the wind that blew over the waters of chaos in the very first moment of creation – the wind of the Spirit of God. The similarity here is no coincidence. Jesus had promised a “new thing.” Luke is making it crystal clear – to those with ears to hear – that it is a new creation that is happening with the winds of Pentecost.
Have you ever just had a really great day – a GREAT day – one you look back on with a golden glow of happiness – a truly special day? And have you looked back later and realized that what happened that day was kinda ordinary except that somehow everything was perfect – somehow you remember it as bigger than maybe it really was – the perfect time and place with the perfect people – when everything came together just as it always should have been?
Sixty to eighty years after the fact, this is how the emerging church felt on looking back at the first Pentecost day. Is it a factual story? Luke doesn’t care, and neither should we. This is the story the church had to tell about how it all began. This is what it felt like to them when the Spirit was in their midst and moved among them.
Suddenly the people were emboldened to speak freely and tell the story they knew – the story of God’s love for all humankind and God’s great gift to the world through Jesus and the Spirit. Suddenly the people were on fire with God’s word. So on fire that they somehow made themselves understood by others around them and the story they had to share moved like wildfire through the whole world.
Last Tuesday Hilary and I attended another meeting of our Regional Ministries Council as representatives of our Church Off the Center cluster group. It’s the beginning of a new term and so half the people there were returning, like Hilary and me, and half were new to the council – including the new Chair – so he asked us to go around and each tell briefly what it is we represent there and what we are doing in our group. As I listened, I realized that this was a perfect Pentecost story playing out in that small room.
Probably the thing that catches the most attention in Luke’s story is the whole “speaking in tongues” thing. What is assumed, but never stated outright, is that whatever language they spoke or were heard in they were all telling the same story – each in their own words.
What I realized I was hearing, last Tuesday in an upper room in an office building in San Ramon, California, was the church telling it’s story – each of us speaking a different language – but telling the very same story of love for others and service to others and a striving to be Jesus’ hands and voice in this world. Some of us spoke a language of Camp - shaping places and opportunities for youth and families to grow and learn and love God. Some of us spoke a language of Reconciliation, working in our communities to eradicate racism and bring justice to all God’s people together.
We heard about those whose calling is to foster and nurture New Church development. We heard about the Men’s Ministry cluster and the things they have planned to minister specifically to the needs of men and boys. Hilary and I were there to speak for small, out-of-the-mainstream, off-the-center congregations and the challenges we face in being active in the wider church, as well as the blessings to be discovered in this particular kind of small group ministry and outreach to the immediate community. Each representative was there because they passionately love the work they are doing – the language they particularly speak in and to the larger church.
The point is that we are all, in our own way telling the same story of love in community but telling it in different languages so that our story is understood by those we are speaking with.
Many of you here do this everyday but you may not think of it that way. For the people you meet, God’s story often sounds like a kind word, a sandwich, a warm coat, a listening ear and heart. Some of you stack cans at a food pantry to tell your story. Some care for deeply sick people. The languages are limitless. When we let that wind blow through us and let it fan the sparks into a flame of action and speech, we are telling the same story the early disciples told on the long-ago day, in all kinds of different languages - the story that we are loved and called to love in return.
We may never know who and how many are impacted by our story - whatever language we speak. All we have to do is allow the Spirit to move in us, to use us. When we let the Spirit flow, lives are changed. Let us continue to speak out in our many and various tongues and let us tell our story – the church’s story – the age old, ever new story, that death and fear are defeated, that the reign of God is here and now within our midst. The story that says that love will always – always – win.
Holy Spirit, come. Fill us with your fire that we may continue to speak your love in all the languages of the world. Amen.
But then I am reminded that this is God’s story, not mine. This is the church’s story, not mine. And this is Luke’s story, not mine, and I think we need to begin there. We’ve spoken lately about Acts being simply the direct continuation of Luke’s gospel and that Luke/Acts is dated as having been written between 60 and 80 years after the Easter event when historical memory might be getting a little shaky, to say the least.
But Luke is never about historical facticity - Luke’s narrative is a record of how the emerging church felt as a result of the events he describes. It was Luke after all who gave us the highly detailed Nativity story that we love so much at Christmas time - a story complete with a sky filled with singing angels – that no one seemed to notice or remember later. Luke isn’t describing something as it really happened. He describes the event’s effect on believers and on their future perceptions. In Luke’s vision the birth of Jesus into the human world was such a momentous event it deserved to have choirs of angels – that’s how important it was. That’s the truth rather than the fact of that story.
And so to Pentecost. Since Jesus’ departure the Jesus community has been quiet. They don’t appear to have done anything much but they are doing something – they are praying, and they are waiting for God to act ..... and then a wind begins to blow. A wind just like the wind that blew over the waters of chaos in the very first moment of creation – the wind of the Spirit of God. The similarity here is no coincidence. Jesus had promised a “new thing.” Luke is making it crystal clear – to those with ears to hear – that it is a new creation that is happening with the winds of Pentecost.
Have you ever just had a really great day – a GREAT day – one you look back on with a golden glow of happiness – a truly special day? And have you looked back later and realized that what happened that day was kinda ordinary except that somehow everything was perfect – somehow you remember it as bigger than maybe it really was – the perfect time and place with the perfect people – when everything came together just as it always should have been?
Sixty to eighty years after the fact, this is how the emerging church felt on looking back at the first Pentecost day. Is it a factual story? Luke doesn’t care, and neither should we. This is the story the church had to tell about how it all began. This is what it felt like to them when the Spirit was in their midst and moved among them.
Suddenly the people were emboldened to speak freely and tell the story they knew – the story of God’s love for all humankind and God’s great gift to the world through Jesus and the Spirit. Suddenly the people were on fire with God’s word. So on fire that they somehow made themselves understood by others around them and the story they had to share moved like wildfire through the whole world.
Last Tuesday Hilary and I attended another meeting of our Regional Ministries Council as representatives of our Church Off the Center cluster group. It’s the beginning of a new term and so half the people there were returning, like Hilary and me, and half were new to the council – including the new Chair – so he asked us to go around and each tell briefly what it is we represent there and what we are doing in our group. As I listened, I realized that this was a perfect Pentecost story playing out in that small room.
Probably the thing that catches the most attention in Luke’s story is the whole “speaking in tongues” thing. What is assumed, but never stated outright, is that whatever language they spoke or were heard in they were all telling the same story – each in their own words.
What I realized I was hearing, last Tuesday in an upper room in an office building in San Ramon, California, was the church telling it’s story – each of us speaking a different language – but telling the very same story of love for others and service to others and a striving to be Jesus’ hands and voice in this world. Some of us spoke a language of Camp - shaping places and opportunities for youth and families to grow and learn and love God. Some of us spoke a language of Reconciliation, working in our communities to eradicate racism and bring justice to all God’s people together.
We heard about those whose calling is to foster and nurture New Church development. We heard about the Men’s Ministry cluster and the things they have planned to minister specifically to the needs of men and boys. Hilary and I were there to speak for small, out-of-the-mainstream, off-the-center congregations and the challenges we face in being active in the wider church, as well as the blessings to be discovered in this particular kind of small group ministry and outreach to the immediate community. Each representative was there because they passionately love the work they are doing – the language they particularly speak in and to the larger church.
The point is that we are all, in our own way telling the same story of love in community but telling it in different languages so that our story is understood by those we are speaking with.
Many of you here do this everyday but you may not think of it that way. For the people you meet, God’s story often sounds like a kind word, a sandwich, a warm coat, a listening ear and heart. Some of you stack cans at a food pantry to tell your story. Some care for deeply sick people. The languages are limitless. When we let that wind blow through us and let it fan the sparks into a flame of action and speech, we are telling the same story the early disciples told on the long-ago day, in all kinds of different languages - the story that we are loved and called to love in return.
We may never know who and how many are impacted by our story - whatever language we speak. All we have to do is allow the Spirit to move in us, to use us. When we let the Spirit flow, lives are changed. Let us continue to speak out in our many and various tongues and let us tell our story – the church’s story – the age old, ever new story, that death and fear are defeated, that the reign of God is here and now within our midst. The story that says that love will always – always – win.
Holy Spirit, come. Fill us with your fire that we may continue to speak your love in all the languages of the world. Amen.
RSS Feed