Sermon for Pentecost Sunday, Year B, "On Fire or Burned Out?" Acts 2:1-12, Ezekiel 37:1-14

 Sermon 5/23/21

Ezekiel 37:1-14, Acts 2:1-21  

Pentecost: On Fire or Burned Out?

I’ve been thinking about how we’re going through our seconds of a lot of things in this global pandemic. Last year, congregations made their way through Lent and Easter and Pentecost in the midst of a fairly new pandemic. We were afraid and figuring things out and so sad not to be together, but I was so moved by how quickly pastor and church leaders and congregations pivoted to find new ways of doing things, ways to continue to serve the community, ways to continue to be in relationship with each other in the Body of Christ, ways to continue praising God, journeying in Lent, proclaiming resurrection, and feeling full of the Holy Spirit despite all the struggles. The persistence and faithfulness of God’s people was impressive and inspiring. 

And here we still are. Yes, there are so many signs of hope about the pandemic, as things open in new ways, as vaccines roll out, as healing and recovery of all kinds begin. But there’s also an incredible fatigue, and a sense of finally really taking stock of the toll the pandemic has had on all aspects of life, including, very much including faith communities. Last June, after 17 years of ministry in the local church, I stepped away from pastoring, wrapping up my time as the pastor up in Gouverneur and North Gouverneur to go back to school to work on a PhD. My plans to go back to school were made well before I ever heard of Covid-19. But although I felt some guilt about stepping away from my congregation during such a global crisis, I’ll admit I also felt relieved about responsibilities that would no longer be mine. I wouldn’t have to figure out how to pastor during a pandemic anymore! But so many of my friends, so many of them pastors - they’ve been doing this - figuring out how to lead a church through a pandemic - for more than a year now. And congregations - they’ve been working hard to figure out how to keep it together for more than a year now. And frankly, I think everyone is just exhausted. Done. Drained. How much more can churches take? The list of retiring pastors this year in our Annual Conference is huge. The number of churches in our conference that are closing? - also pretty large this year. And I’ve heard from congregational leaders and members who have stuck it out all this time a sense of fear and foreboding: Yes, things are opening up, slowly. But will anyone come back? And if they don’t, how can we keep going? We’ve hung on for so long, but how much more can we take? 

I don’t say all of this to overwhelm or depress anyone, or to make things seem hopeless. I say it to acknowledge and recognize and face the reality of the state of our well-being as the Church. I say it, because when I first thought about preaching on Pentecost, and I thought about all the metaphors for the day of being “on fire” for God, my sermon title immediately popped into my head. On Fire? How about Burned Out! Last year we could summon the energy to feel On Fire despite all the challenges, with a sense of “we’re in this together.” Can we still? Or have we used up all our energy and creativity and we’re just really tired and really done with all of it, and really scared about how we feel. Burned up, not on fire. 

So that’s why today, in addition to the traditional Pentecost text from Acts 2, we’re also reading an alternate Pentecost text, from the prophet Ezekiel. In Acts 2, the traditional Pentecost text, the disciples are gathered in Jerusalem, waiting. They’re waiting because just recently, Jesus returned to God’s home, leaving earth, at least physically. He’d been with the disciples for forty days after his resurrection, and undoubtedly they wished he’d just stay with them forever. But he leaves, promising them that he’s going to send the Spirit to help them, to empower them. It must be hard to believe, though, and they must feel somewhat like everything they had with Jesus is sort of over. But on Pentecost, a harvest festival that is part of the Jewish faith, the disciples are gathered together, when suddenly this sound like a violent rushing wind fills the air. The spirit rests on them each like tongues of fire, and they suddenly find themselves proclaiming the good news of Jesus and God’s reign on earth in many languages, so that they are understood by all who hear them. At first many think the disciples must be drunk, but Peter gives a fiery sermon, quoting the prophet Joel, and speaking about the dreams and visions that will come to all through the Spirit - young and old, men and women, slave and free. And in the rest of the chapter, after the section we hear today, Peter calls the crowds to repent - and they do! And three thousand are baptized on the spot and commit themselves to discipleship. It is a truly amazing story. It’s so amazing in fact that it feels unreal. The disciples were on fire and the results of their passion for God were immediate, tangible, huge, and transformative. 

I think many of us find our discipleship, even when we feel on fire for God, rarely so immediately and quantitatively transformative. And so sometimes - for me at least, but I’m guessing you might feel this way too - it’s a little hard to relate to Pentecost. On fire? Maybe. But the fire has fizzled, and we’re burned up now. But Ezekiel? I get Ezekiel. Ezekiel was a priest living in exile in Babylon, along with many other Israelites during the 6th century BC. I think it is hard for most of us to imagine our whole community being conquered and living in exile in a foreign land, but this season was Israel’s most devastating experience since their slavery under Egyptian rule. They were a people whose religious roots were deeply tied to their land – the Promised Land – and living in exile represented the results, the consequences of their turning away from their faithfulness to God - they were separated from their land.

Ezekiel describes in this passage an image God brings to him that represents what the exiled people of Israel look like emotionally – like a valley of dry bones – skeletons. “The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. [The Lord] led me all round them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry,” we read. Then God asks Ezekiel, “Mortal, can these bones live?” Ezekiel is smart, and says, “You know, God.” God tells Ezekiel to prophesy that God will breathe into the bones and cause them to be covered with flesh and come to life again. Ezekiel does as he’s told, and it happens just as God describes, and the bones live again, given flesh and breath. These newly living beings don’t just spring back to vibrancy though. Instead, they say that their bones are dried up and their hope is lost. But God responds to them: “I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord … I will put my spirit within you and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil.” Ezekiel knows that God is faithful, even when we are not, and so Ezekiel knows that Israelites are not abandoned. Eventually, Israel does come home from exile, and slowly, they come back to life, and reclaim their identity. 

I’m guessing you know exactly what it feels like to be dry bones. Some of you know because that’s what you feel like right now, with the weight of this enduring pandemic and all that it has taken out of you, your family, and our world over the last year. But you probably know just what it's like to be nothing but dry bones from other seasons in your life too, or from other seasons in our world. You might know because you’ve experienced the pain of being mistreated by others, consistently, in ways that wear you down and break your spirit. You might know because you’ve struggled with losing your way, choosing things that drew you away from instead of closer to God, even though you meant to make different choices. You might know about being dry bones because you’ve tried again and again, so hard to be faithful, so hard to share God with others, so hard to be full of hope, so hard to look for growth, so hard to see signs that you were on God’s path, and been unable to find anything that looked promising, until eventually you felt - like dry bones. Burned out. 

As I said, when God asks Ezekiel, “Mortal, can these bones live?” I think Ezekiel responds so wisely. “God, you know.” It’s a wise answer because it acknowledges both that God does know and the implied converse: Ezekiel does not know. And that’s ok. Because God does know, and Ezekiel - and the dry bones - are listening to God. And actually, the disciples on Pentecost were in much the same situation as Ezekiel. They, too, didn’t really know what was going on, as much as Jesus had tried to prepare them. But God knew. And the disciples were listening, and heard the Spirit, moving on the wind. 

Church, can these dry bones live? We do not know in the midst of being dried up and burned out if there is any life left. But we don’t have to know, because God does know. Earlier this week I had the opportunity to go on a retreat day for clergy with Church of the Wild, a new church start based at Sky Lake, one of our conference camps down in the Southern Tier. Church in the Wild is focused on sustainability and care for creation. The focus of the retreat was on figuring out what the next step was in God’s call on our lives. We took a walk around the lake, stopping at spots along the way, reflecting on questions in a guided meditation. On one segment, the leaders asked us to pay attention to nature, to creation, and to think about what lessons we found there when thinking about what God is calling us to in our next step. As I walked along, and noticed everything that was teeming with life in these warm days, I also noticed how much is dying all the time - crunching leaves from last year’s fall, pine needles, trees that didn’t make it through a windy storm or that succumbed to something or another. And yet, all of these dying things were an integral part of the lush life that was unfolding. The dying things made fertile soil for new life to unfold in very literal ways. And so I found myself wondering what in my own life has “died” to make way for new life, and what I need to let go of, in order to embrace what God has in store next. And I found myself thinking about the seasons when I was sure I was burned out and burned up and had nothing left. But God knew better, planning unforeseen joy. 

Church, can these dry bones live? God knows. It’s ok if you’re feeling burned out right now. Because it turns out, God can work with dry bones. If you can’t figure out how to revive and renew and refresh, and if the idea of trying to work for a new vision and new hope and new start sounds exhausting, and if you feel like you’d rather have a good long nap than a bout of the Holy Spirit, and if God birthing something new in the Church universal, and in this particular congregation, and in your individual life sounds too good to be true, or like it means too much hard work, or like you’d rather just be left alone, or like you’ve got nothing left to give, take heart. God is just asking this: that you trust that God knows if we’ve got life left in us or not. And if God knows, God also equips. God also makes a pathway. God breathes life into us. And sometimes that Holy Spirit - literally Holy Breath - looks like a violent rushing wind that has results we can count, and grasp and measure. And sometimes that Holy Spirit - Holy Breath - is just reminding us that there is life where we thought there was only death. And while that might not be a gift we can measure, it is a priceless treasure all the same. God knows what can live and work and move among us, and God is ever faithful, to on fire people, to burned out people, to me, to you. Thanks be to God. Amen.  

Sermon for Pentecost Sunday, Year B, "Confirmation," Acts 2:1-21

Sermon 5/20/18
Acts 2:1-21

Pentecost: Confirmation


Last Sunday, it was a joy to have our District Superintendent Rev. Mike Weeden here with us in worship. He helped us wrap up our series “Strengthen Your Core,” by talking about the last of our five areas of focus, based on the membership vows of The United Methodist Church. We’d talked already about prayers, presence, gifts, and service, and he shared with us about what it means to be a witness. How do we tell the world our story? How do we share our faith in meaningful ways? How do we convey to others how God has impacted our lives through our relationship with Jesus Christ? How will we be witnesses?  
As I’ve reflected on his questions, I have been thinking back to my years taking piano lessons throughout junior high and high school. I had a few different teachers over the years, and until I started with my final teacher, I never had to perform in any sort of recital. In fact, I never really had to play for other people at all, except informally, for members of my family. This suited me just fine, because I was petrified of playing piano in front of others. I practiced a lot, but I wasn’t very confident. When I was nervous, my hands would shake, and when my hands shook, it made it quite difficult to actually hit the right notes. But when I started with a new teacher in high school, she was much more demanding all around. She was demanding about my consistent practicing, and she was insistent that I play a solo for NYSSMA – that’s where students in NY go to get graded on a musical performance and some musical skills – and that I perform for a local recital and scholarship competition. I was petrified. But my teacher was such a gifted musician, and though she was strict she was kind, and I admired her skills as a pianist so much. I wanted to be able to play like she played. And so, with fear and trembling, I agreed to everything she wanted me to sign up to do. Perhaps you are expecting that here is where I will share with you my triumph, but alas: I ended my first piece at the scholarship competition on a wrong note, my hands were shaking so badly! But I survived. And having conquered that most terrifying event, I went on to be able to play in other settings in a more relaxed way. I never attained the skill of my teacher, but I did become able to share my playing with others. And music has so much power when we share it, doesn’t it? I’m so thankful for my teacher pushing me to move beyond my comfort zone, even though I struggled still. We practice, practice, practice, always! But eventually, we have to wonder: What are we practicing for? Will we ever put our practicing to use? 
In just over a month, I will celebrate 15 years of ministry, as I hit the anniversary of my very first day when I officially became “Pastor Beth.” I still remember stepping into St. Paul’s United Methodist Church in Oneida on my very first day. The day before, I hadn’t been a pastor, not yet. Now, I had gone through a lot of training to get where I was. I had been to college, and years of seminary. I had spent time working as a chaplain, and time interning at churches. I had done preaching and visiting, and was cultivating my skills. I was well-equipped, I thought, to be a pastor. But that day, July 1st, 2003, I was suddenly “Pastor Beth.” I was a bit petrified, frankly. I felt a little bit in over my head. And to be clear: I still had a lot to learn. I look back with such love in my heart for the people of St. Paul’s, because they were so nurturing and supportive as I figured out what it meant for real to be a pastor, and when I made mistakes, they loved me anyway. But even as I continued to learn – and still continue to learn – if I just stayed in school, and kept training, and kept practicing at being a pastor until I felt 100% ready for all that ministry would bring my way: Well, I’d still be a student, and not a pastor at all. 
What are we practicing for? What are we training for? When do we put all of our learning and growing to use? When we ask these questions in context of faith, I think the day of Pentecost is a day of answers and action. Remember, last week Mike shared with us a text from Acts 1. The resurrected Jesus was speaking to the disciples for the last time in person, in the flesh, before returning to heaven. The disciples had been just that – disciples, which means students – for three years, traveling with Jesus and learning from him, and practicing, occasionally, on their own, healing and preaching and sharing the news about God’s reign on earth. But now, Jesus told them that he was returning to God and they would be the witnesses to God’s work in the world. They would be the messengers of Jesus. They would be the ones doing what Jesus had been doing, strengthened by the power of the Holy Spirit. The same Holy Spirit that descended on Jesus at his baptism, that led him into the wilderness, and that filled him up as he preached for the first time: this same Spirit was now about to fill the disciples so that they could be in ministry to all the world. 
And that’s exactly what we see happen on Pentecost, in our reading from Acts. The disciples are gathered together, ready to celebrate Pentecost, a festival celebrating both harvest, and the giving of the Torah, the law, to the people of Israel. It’s a festival that takes place 50 days after the Passover. So not only are the disciples gathered, but many others are in Jerusalem to celebrate the festival too. And suddenly, we read, a sound comes from the heavens, the sound of a mighty rushing wind, and it fills the house where the disciples are. Something like flames, like tongues of fire, seems to rest on each of them, and they are filled with the Holy Spirit. The Spirit, somehow, gives them words to speak in many languages so that the people gathered from so many places will understand what they’re saying. People are rightly astonished by what they hear from the disciples, and some even wonder if they’re drunk. But Peter, ready to be a witness, just as Jesus has called him to be, stands and addresses the crowd. Using the words of the prophet Joel, Peter insists that what the crowds are seeing is a fulfillment of what Joel’s wrote about: God’s Spirit is poured on all flesh, sons and daughters prophesy, young and old along share visions and dreams, and even the boundaries and limits created by humans, like the institution of slavery, cannot bind up the Spirit – slaves will be Spirit-filled too, will be prophets too. And everyone who calls on God’s name will be saved. 
Peter, who seemed sometimes to be a hopeless disciple, one moment saying something brilliant that made it seem like he knew who Jesus was, and the next moment causing Jesus to say to him, “Get behind me, Satan”; Peter, who was brave enough to step out on to the water with Jesus, and afraid enough to quickly sink; Peter, who Jesus said would be the rock of the church, but who also denied even knowing Jesus – Peter is not just practicing at following Jesus anymore. He’s standing up. He’s sharing his faith. He’s boldly claiming the work of Jesus as his own. Filled with God’s Spirit to strengthen him, encourage him, inspire him, he’s making God’s story his story, and sharing it in a way of his own. The other disciples begin to do likewise. And suddenly, even though Jesus is no longer there in the flesh, the message of Jesus begins to get carried to the world. 
What about you? How will you make this story your story? How will you make God’s story, the story of Jesus, Jesus’ work in the world, into something that has meaning for you?  How will you share your story so that others might make Jesus’ story their own too? We’re celebrating something else here today too. The Service of Confirmation is a spiritual milestone that has been celebrated in conjunction with Pentecost over the years because of the new baptisms that take place just after our text for today in Acts. It’s a day of making a commitment to follow Jesus. But I think it is especially appropriate because both Pentecost and Confirmation are stories about taking what has been taught to you by someone else, and making it your own. At Pentecost, the disciples finally took everything Jesus had taught them, all the encouragement he’d given them, and, empowered by the Holy Spirit, stepped out in front of the crowds to make a bold statement of faith, putting it all on the line. Finally, they had to stop standing behind Jesus, relying on him to answer their questions and tell them what to do, and start acting as his messengers in the world.
            Confirmation is a similar occasion. Ayse, Peyton, Shea, and Taylor, who will stand before you today, were instilled with the values of faith and the church. Their parents and other teachers and family members and guides in their life have led them and shaped their faith, guiding them to learn about God’s grace and walking with Jesus. But Confirmation is a celebration that these young women are choosing to confirm for their own what they have been taught already. From here on out, they can continue to be guided and helped by their elders, of course: but we’re saying together, them, and us, that their faith journey is their responsibility. They stop standing behind adults to answer for them, and start acting as disciples in their own right, even leaders and messengers of God in this congregation, in our world.              
They’ve been through a lot of lesson this year, our confirmands. They certainly don’t know everything about this congregation, or Christianity, or Methodism. Although, until they forget it, they might know a little more than some of you do! But the point is, if we waited to give them all the rights and responsibilities of membership and leadership in the church until they knew everything and were totally ready and prepared – well, then, I’d bet we’d never celebrate confirmation again. They won’t stop learning just because they’re confirmed. But they lay claim now to having their voice in all that we do here, because they’re laying claim to their own faith.
            What happened on Pentecost is both hard to explain and easy to understand. The disciples, even though they weren’t really ready, became the church. Since Jesus had returned to God, they became the body of Christ in the world. They weren’t ready. They needed to know more. They still didn’t have all the answers. It isn’t long before they get in fights with each other and stray from what Jesus might have done. But they take the plunge. They take the leap of faith. They can do it, because once they feel the Spirit moving, they know that Jesus is really always with them. They aren’t alone. When they step out on faith, God is with them.
            What will you do? God is with you. The Spirit is yours, just as Jesus promised. So whatever it is you are waiting for to be ready to start following God, really – remind yourself that we’re never ready for everything we’ll face. But we can be ready to put our trust in God, who has never failed us yet. Let’s tell the story. God’s story. The story of Jesus. Our story. We’re not just practicing. We’re living it. Amen. 

Sermon for Pentecost Sunday, Year A, "Feet on the Ground," Acts 2:1-12

Sermon 6/4/17

Acts 2:1-21

Pentecost Sunday: Feet on the Ground

           

Just about 50 days ago, we celebrated the resurrection together, as we gathered on Easter Sunday, and shared together the gospel story. We heard about the women coming to the tomb and finding it empty, and we heard the repeated words from throughout the next, from messengers, from Jesus: Do not be afraid. Last week we left the apostles looking up at the sky, as we celebrated Ascension Sunday, and talked about hearing God’s messengers tell and disciples-becoming-apostles to tear their gazes from heaven, leaving them instead to get to work on earth. They’d been promised the gift of the Holy Spirit – a gift that literally means Holy Breath, a gift that Jesus describes as Comforter and Advocate, literally one called to your side. The Holy Spirit isn’t something new, isn’t something that just shows up in the New Testament, on Pentecost. But certainly, Jesus speaks of the Holy Spirit in a different way than we hear elsewhere in the scriptures, and he encourages the twelve to trust that they will have strength and help from God, God’s Spirit dwelling within them, working within and through them in a way that seems new.

So the disciples-becoming-apostles, students-becoming-“sent ones” are waiting for this Holy Spirit to fill them up in some way that’s going to be more tangible than anything they’ve heard about before, and that’s going to help them do the work of Jesus in the world. What do they do while they’re waiting? According to the passage of scripture between last week’s text and today’s, the apostles return to Jerusalem and devote themselves to constant prayer, along with some women, and Jesus’ mother and brothers. Between the apostles, women, Jesus’s family, and others who have been following Jesus all along, they’ve got about 120 people gathered, praying and waiting for the Spirit. I forget that there were so many. From this group, the disciples also use this time to name a twelfth disciple, to replace Judas Iscariot. It would be easy for them to sit and do nothing until the Holy Spirit showed up as promised. But, perhaps inspired to action by the messengers at the Ascension, they wait actively instead of passively, praying and preparing to carrying out God’s plans. 

If our message from Easter was Do Not Fear, and our message from Ascension Sunday was to tear our eyes from the sky, our message for Pentecost is to get moving, get our feet on the ground, get ready to take action. We can take on the work of Jesus and carry it out into the world. Pentecost is a festival that is part of Judaism. The disciples in our text today are gathered together to celebrate Pentecost as they wait for the gift of the Spirit. Pentecost as also known as Shavuot or The Feast of Weeks. The festival celebrates the “first fruits” of the harvest and the giving of the Torah, the books we know as the first five books of our Bible. The disciples were gathered together during this traditional celebration, as are many other faithful Jews who have come to observe the holy days. While they are gathered, suddenly, a sound like the rush of a violent wind comes and fills the gathering place and the apostles are filled with the promised Holy Spirit. And they begin to speak the gospel message to all who are gathered in such a way that everyone in the city could understand them. Many people from many places were gathered in Jerusalem for the Feast of Weeks, and it seemed that everyone could understand the apostles. Some were amazed at this, but others were a bit cynical. But Peter stands and raises his voice to the crowds saying: we are speaking as the prophets spoke. Visions and power from, God will come to all people – young and old, men and women, slaves and free. He quotes the prophet Joel, saying, “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young shall see visions, and your old shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy.” After Peter is done preaching, Acts tells us that thousands respond to the message he shares about Jesus. And from this point on, now equipped with the Spirit Jesus promised, the apostles are out, everywhere they can get to, telling people about Jesus and carrying out his work.

            How can we think about the Holy Spirit in meaningful ways? When I was in junior high, I accidentally pinned my leg under our minivan. Some of you might have heard me tell this long story before, and doesn’t make me look very brilliant, but suffice it to say, I was laying on the ground outside a small market in Rome in the parking lot, with my leg pinned underneath our Dodge Caravan. My mother was in the store, and when my friend, who was with me, conveyed to her what happened, and my mother came out and saw me under the van, she didn’t look for help. What she did was push the van off me. Now, maybe she could have done this on a normal day, but I suspect that the level of adrenaline coursing through her body in an emergency situation made it suddenly easy for her to get me, her child, out of such a dangerous situation.

            I think the Holy Spirit is a little like that – like adrenaline that enables you to do something you couldn’t imagine doing under normal circumstances. Only, we have this Holy Spirit with us always. Did you ever sing the Sunday School song, Give Me Oil for My Lamp? Give Me Oil for My Lamp, keep it burning, burning, burning, Give me oil for my lamp, I pray! Hallelujah! Give me oil for my lamp, keep it burning, burning, burning, keep it burning til the break of day! The song continues in more verses, and some of my favorites were: Give me wax for my board, keep me surfing for the Lord, and Give me gas for my Ford, keep me truckin’ for the Lord. All the verses suggest that there is something we need, something God can give us, that can inspire us, move us, help us to act with faith and boldness. That’s what the Holy Spirit can do with us – give us boldness to speak and act in the name of Jesus.

            Friends, sometimes we need to be actively waiting for God’s direction, praying and preparing as we trust in God’s promises. And sometimes, we’ve got to realize that the promise is fulfilled, the Spirit is ours, a fire has been lit, and we need to be burning, shining forth with the light of Christ in the world. I spent the last several days at Annual Conference, our annual business meeting of the Upper New York Conference. Our study leader during the conference was Rev. Dr. Kenda Creasy Dean, a professor at Princeton Theological School of Youth, Church, and Culture. She was fantastic. I kind of wish I could just play a video of her whole study for you as my sermon today – she was so inspiring. Dr. Dean shared with us the story of Maggie, a woman whose life was upheaved by ethnic genocide in Burundi, but who has lived a life of love and light nonetheless, transforming her community, providing love and support for thousands of orphaned children. Maggie said, “Every day I improvise new life because love makes us inventors.” Dr. Dean asked us: Who has God given us to love as our own? And how is God calling us to be inventors? How can our church surprise young people with hope this year? There’s something about that description – that we are called to be inventors, carrying hope, new life, and new direction because of the love we have for one another that says “Holy Spirit” to me. 

            The gift of the Holy Spirit is a gift for us, a promise kept not just to those first apostles, but for us too. It’s a gift we claim at our baptism, that we renew as we receive new members even today, that we call to fill our hearts every time we celebrate Holy Communion together. It’s the gift that turned a group of disciples into a church, a community, the body of Christ in the world. And it’s the gift that can turn us into dreamers, visionaries, inventors for the sake of hope and love. Come, Holy Spirit, come. Amen.  

 

    

Sermon for Pentecost Sunday, "Changed from Glory into Glory: Windy"

Sermon 5/27/12

Acts 2:1-21

Changed from Glory into Glory: Windy

            Yesterday afternoon I had the joy of attending my nephew Sam’s Fifth Birthday Party. He is getting to be quite grown up. Children’s birthday parties are an interesting mixture of planned and unplanned happenings. For example, my brother and sister-in-law had almost everything set up out on their back deck, expecting to sit and eat with adults while the kids played in the yard and on the swing set. But slowly, person by person, people seemed to decide that sitting inside, in air conditioning, near fans, was preferable to being outside on a beautiful but very hot day. Jim and Jen ordered more than twice as much pizza as the guests ate, although we went through drinks like crazy. The plastic lightsabers that were set out never got played with – kids opted instead for playing with Batman’s batcave, which was just sitting in its usual spot in the living room. And Sam never reacts quite how you think he will to presents you get for him. His parents told him on his birthday that they were going to take him to the store to buy him a “big boy bike.” Sam responded, “No thank you.” He’s since had a change of heart, but his original response was a little disheartening to his parents who had planned for quite a while!  

            Today we celebrate a birthday here, too, and this one is for all of us. Like Sam’s birthday, it was both planned and unplanned, the way things unfolded. In the Christian Church we celebrate Pentecost Day as the birthday of the church universal. Pentecost is the biggest birthday celebration I can think of, next to that birthday we celebrate on December 25th. Today is the birthday of the Church. Today, we read about the disciples receiving the Holy Spirit. Today we read about that strange experience where the sound of a mighty rushing wind broke into the house where the followers of Jesus were celebrating Pentecost. Today, we read about the beginnings of Church as we know it – where Peter steps up and finally does what Jesus had been preparing him and the others to do all along: he shares the gospel – tells the Good News about God’s grace to anyone and everyone he can get to listen. Today is meant to be a day of celebration, this day of Pentecost.

Our text from Acts opens with the disciples already gathered together. They are gathered together for the celebration of Pentecost, a Jewish festival set out in the Torah, the law books for the Jews, which make the first five books of our Bible today. Pentecost was a celebration taking place fifty days after Passover, and was called also “the feast of weeks” or Shavuot. The festival celebrated the “first fruits” of the early harvest in spring. So the disciples were gathered together for this traditional celebration – this is what was planned. Everyone was gathered for a purpose, and had an idea what to expect. But suddenly, the unexpected started happening. We read that a sound like the rush of a violent wind came, and filled the gathering place, and the apostles were filled with the Holy Spirit, which seemed to them like divided tongues of fire. And they began to speak the gospel message to all who were gathered in such a way that everyone in the city could understand them. Many people from many places were gathered in Jerusalem for the Feast of Weeks, and it seemed that everyone could understand the disciples. Some were amazed at this, but others were a bit cynical, and accused the disciples of being drunk. Peter stands and raises his voice to the crowds: We’re not drunk – we are speaking as the prophets spoke – and he goes on to speak to them of visions and power that will come to all – young and old, men and women, slaves and free.

Today, when we celebrate Pentecost, our focus is on not on the feast originally celebrated, the planned part, but on the out-of-control wind that swept through and stirred up the celebration – the giving of the Holy Spirit. This is the gift that Jesus has promised the disciples they would receive, the thing that would be their Advocate, their Comforter, helping them to make the transition from followers of Jesus to those who would be leading and guiding and sharing with others. The Holy Spirit is the gift that helps them with all their other gifts, in a way. It’s the foundation for their work, the source of their confidence in their abilities. After all, being filled with the Holy Spirit is being filled up with God’s own self, right inside of you. God dwelling in you certainly should inspire you with confidence! On Pentecost, the Holy Spirit is the gift that is available to each one of us.

Personally, though, I have always found this Spirit thing a bit hard to explain and understand. It all sounds so ambiguous, doesn’t it? How do we connect to an event that had a violent rushing wind, tongues of fire, and people speaking in other languages? Maybe we get that something special happened on that day, but how can we relate to it? What does the Holy Spirit mean to us?

When I was in 8^th grade, I accidentally pinned my leg under our minivan. It’s a long story, and doesn’t make me look very brilliant, but suffice it to say, I was laying on the ground outside a small market in Rome in the parking lot, pinned underneath our Dodge Caravan. My mother was in the store, and when my friend, who was with me, conveyed to her what happened, and my mother came out and saw me under the van, she didn’t look for help. What she did was push the van off me. Now, maybe she could have done this on a normal day, but I suspect that the level of adrenaline coursing through her body in an emergency situation made it suddenly easy for her to get me, her child, out of such a dangerous situation.

            I think the Holy Spirit is a little like that – like adrenaline that suddenly shows up when you need it. Did you ever sing the Sunday School song, Give Me Oil for My Lamp? Give Me Oil for My Lamp, keep it burning, burning, burning, Give me oil for my lamp, I pray! Give me oil for my lamp, keep it burning, burning, burning, keep it burning til the break of day! The song continues in more verse, but some of my favorites were: Give me wax for my board, kepe me surfing for the Lord, and Give me gas for my Ford, keep me truckin’ for the Lord. I mention this song because the verses all suggest that there is something we need, something God can give us, that can inspire us, move us, help us to act with faith and boldness. Give me oil for my lamp is not so different from saying: Come, Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit’s coming in Acts is described as a violent rushing wind. Wind is powerful. It can set a boat to sailing across the water, or it can destroy and damage, or it can be harnessed for electricity. Sometimes we know when to expect a windy day, but often, the wind catches us by surprise. We can’t see the wind, but we can see what it does. Wind is a great image for how Spirit moves through us. But if the Spirit is so unpredictable, can we do more than say, Come, Holy Spirit, and wait for the Spirit to show up, if it will?

            When I think about the apostles receiving the Spirit, I remember that they were in Jerusalem, waiting for the Spirit, because that is where Jesus told them to be. They made sure they followed the instructions they had, so that they could be ready for the unknown. Thinking about my nephew’s birthday party, I think: It would never have done if my brother and sister-in-law refused to let the party take shape as it did. They could have tried to force everyone to stay outside or play with certain toys or eat certain things. But it wouldn’t have been much of a party if they did that, if they tried to refuse to let the wind blow. At the same time, if they hadn’t had all their plans in place, if they didn’t have food ready and games ready and the yard ready, well, that would have meant that they had no foundation ready for a good party, and I can’t imagine people would have been able to have the fun they had.

             Last week, Rev. Lauren Swanson came and talked to us about things we can do to help ourselves in the transition to a new pastor, things we can do to help ourselves look forward, for the congregation to move in the direction it hopes. It’s a way to prepare, to be ready, to create a space in which the Spirit can move. For sure, we cannot map out what will happen here in the next year, five years, ten years. Only God knows that. But we can be ready, create a space, so that when the wind comes – and the wind always comes eventually – we will be ready for the wind not to tear us down, but to help us set sail.

            Yesterday I happened to see on facebook, that fount of wisdom, a post about 12 Signs of Spiritual Awakening. On this Pentecost Sunday, I think they make a good to-do list:

12 Signs of Spiritual Awakening

1. An increased tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen.

2. Frequent attacks of joy, unexplained smiling and random bursts of laughter.

3. Feelings of being closely connected with others and nature.

4. Frequent overwhelming, almost dizzying, episodes of appreciation.

5. A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than from fears based on past experience

6. An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.

7. A loss of ability to worry.

8. A loss of desire for conflict.

9. A loss of interest in taking things personally.

10. A loss of appetite for drama and judgment.

11. A loss of interest in judging yourself.

12. Prone to give love without expecting anything in return.

            If we prepare our hearts, when the wind comes, when the Holy Spirit fills us, when the day of Pentecost arrives, God will find us ready. Come, Holy Spirit Come. Amen.