Pentecost Sunday
So yes, I am preaching from a jungle today. [Our VBS is this week and there was a giant African backdrop behind me.] Hopefully, it’s not too distracting for you. Some pastors would be bothered by all of that; It doesn’t bother me… I’m looking the other way.
Besides, I’ve been watching all of the work that’s gone into this over the past couple of months; we need to appreciate this work of art. This is cool!
And by the way: I was talking to a pastor friend of mine a little while ago; his church has their VBS coming up soon too. I asked him what his role was during their VBS and he said, “What do you mean?”
I said, “You know, what’s your part during the week? Do you run games, do you lead music, help make the snack; what do you do during your VBS week?”
He gave me this weird look and said, “What do I do? I sit in my office and I get work done.”
Turns out—and I asked around a little bit—but it turns out, a lot of pastors don’t even show up during VBS. How am I just hearing about this now!? I’ve been helping with this for about ten years now, and for the past ten years, someone (Carolyn) has led me to believe that, “Oh yeah, all pastors are intimately involved with VBS. It would be weird if you weren’t.”
I’m kidding, of course. This week means a lot to me. I am really looking forward to siding up with my church family to show God’s love to these kids. I’m going to be an exhausted mess come this time next week, but it is going to be worth every moment.
But there is another cool thing about having to preach from a jungle today: today is Pentecost. Today we commemorate the birthday of the church. Today we remember the Baptism of the Holy Spirit upon the followers of Jesus. Today we remember the day the disciples spoke of God’s praise in languages that were not their own; the day that roared (eh, eh?) with the sound of blowing wind; the day that dazzled with sights of flaming tongues above their heads. There is nothing quiet and meditative about our Scripture reading this morning. It is distracting, and loud, and alarming; and that’s the point. If today seems a bit more chaotic than most days, that’s a good thing; that is exactly how it’s supposed to be.
A few weeks ago, on Mother’s day, I mentioned my Grandma Alice. She passed away around this time of year, so that might be why she comes to mind this time of year; but there may be more to it than that. It’s something about Pentecost. There’s something about Grandma Alice that reminds me of an aspect of the Holy that we don’t always remember.
My mother’s mother was not like my mom. Alice was not the “baking cookies and kissing boo-boos” kind of grandma. My mother is that kind of grandma, but her mom was not. And Grandma Alice reminded me of the Holy Spirit in ways we sometimes forget. Ways that become particularly obvious at Pentecost.
The Holy Spirit has been referred to as the Comforter. Often, we think of God’s Spirit as a comforting presence in our lives. And although the Spirit often does bring us comfort even in our darkest times, the Spirit is not just about our comfort; and although my Grandma could be a very tender and caring person, that’s not really what she was known for.
I told you a few weeks ago how her mere presence in the house would disrupt the entire atmosphere. Grandma Alice did not live to make your life easier; in fact her presence sometimes made life harder. She was loud. She had her opinions about everything and would tell you what she thought… whether or not you wanted to hear it. I can also remember a couple of Thanksgivings, where she’d pushed my dad’s buttons so hard the year before, she wasn’t invited back. She was a cantankerous old lady… and she’s probably why I love cantankerous old ladies. But most of all, I know that, until at least the end, she prayed for me every day. Of course—as a minister, following in her husband’s profession—I was her favorite, but she also prayed daily for all of her other grandchildren too.
Grandma Alice is not exactly the description of God’s Spirit we’re used to, but—reading from the second chapter of Acts—she was not too far off, is she? A presence that you feel—sometimes uncomfortably—even before you hear that Voice; a person who will tell you the things you need to hear… and sometimes, when you least want to hear it; but also a Voice of constant and faithful prayer for us… even when we are not so constant and faithful.
Our text from Acts two is one of those amazing Scripture texts that speak to me differently each time I read it. As I read it this Pentecost Sunday, I am struck by the blatant lack of subtlety within the Spirit’s movement. God’s Spirit rolls in on them like a freight train, noisy and frightening. But does God say, “Oh, excuse me. Were you praying?” No, God’s just getting started. In case the followers of Jesus still weren’t paying attention, the Spirit sets them on fire… almost literally. It is the birthday of Christ’s Church and we are the cake and the Spirit rolls in and lights the candles!
But hold on, here comes the icing: the Spirit fills them and they begin to give God praise. Now we are a decent and orderly people, so the next part might be a little troubling for us; just bear with me. You see, they didn’t just break into their favorite hymn here; they didn’t just strike up a chorus of How Great Thou Art, they exploded into a cacophony of noise! (I love the word “cacophony,” I so rarely get to use it.) Luke tells us here that there were at least a dozen languages being spoken at the same time; can you imagine the racket?
That was how the Church was born! I was in the room when my children were born… and especially with that last one, that sounds about right. The birth of the Church was like any other birth: it was wonderful, it was loud, and it was not just a little terrifying.
Today the Word of God reminds us of a different side of the Spirit; a side we don’t often experience, and why would we want to? It’s messy and uncomfortable… but maybe we should want to. Maybe our prayers for comfort and tranquility aren’t really what God wants for us after all. Maybe instead we ought to be praying for the overwhelming presence of a God that will not be ignored! A God that rolls over us like a freight train and lights us up like so many candles on a birthday cake and sends us out with songs of praise without a care in the world for who might hear us singing!
We are going to sing this week. It is going to be a cacophony! It will be, as the sign says, wild. The children we will serve will be from a lot of virtual places under heaven. May we feel and embrace the uncomfortable movement of God’s Spirit. May we be lifted by her prayers for us and for the work we are called to. And may we obey, even when it seems crazy.
No comments:
Post a Comment