Matthew 28:16-20

Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him but some doubted. Jesus said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore, and baptize all nations in the name of the Father, the +Son, and the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I’ve commanded you. And remember, I am with you always to the end of the age.”

“I love it when a plan comes together.” (Does anyone else remember the A-Team? Murdock … Hannibal … Mr. T as B.A. Baracus? It was a show from way back in the 1900’s.)

John Hannibal, was the leader of The A-Team who coined that phrase, or at least made it a pop-culture thing at the time – “I love it when a plan comes together.” I watched the show faithfully, but had to look it up to remember that the A-Team was a group of special forces, military guys, who had been wrongly accused and imprisoned for war-crimes they didn’t commit. After breaking out of prison, these good guys were simultaneously on the run from the military police AND finding ways to help people in need, as benevolent vigilantes.

Anyway, the phrase, “I love it when a plan comes together,” was funny because, The A-Team was this motley crew of mismatched misfits who joked and argued and got into all sorts of trouble and fights and shenanigans as they did their thing. They achieved their goals, rescued their people, accomplished their missions, made their escapes … barely … by the skin of their teeth … every time. And, at the end of every successful mission, their leader, John Hannibal, sucking on a log-sized cigar, would declare – as though it was his design and strategy all along – “I love it when a plan comes together.”

This phrase came to mind because our plans have been all over the place the last couple of months where this building project is concerned. Securing reliable bids, getting a loan approved, scheduling congregational meetings, then re-scheduling congregational meetings, and all the rest have landed us here on May 31st – which for all sorts of practical, logistical reasons – was the last best option for all that’s on our plate for today’s Annual Meeting.

Which led to the practical, holy need for this Unified Worship service – where we can all be together in one place at the same time – which just so happened to be Holy Trinity Sunday, which is the Church’s invitation to wrestle with and wonder about and celebrate the unity of God’s nature – the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; the Triune God; three persons, equal in majesty; three in one and all the rest.

“I love it when a plan comes together.” (For a preaching pastor, this is kismet, serendipity, or it might just be the work of the Holy Spirit.)

And there’s also this Gospel reading where Jesus gives “The Great Commission” to “go and baptize and make disciples and remember.” But before all of that, what grabs my attention every time, is the notion that when the disciples showed up in Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go, “they worshiped him,” we’re told, “but some doubted.” They all worshiped him, but some doubted.

For my money, there’s not a more accurate description of what the church is up to, generally, in the world these days, and what we’re up to, very particularly as Partners in Mission at Cross of Grace, at this moment in time. They all worship, but some doubted.

“I love it when a plan comes together.”

I mean I’m glad we’re all here today – and that we show up week after week to worship. (… and to learn and to serve, too.) And I’m grateful to be reminded that, even with Jesus standing among his disciples, having done all that he’d promised he would do – up to and including rising from the dead – some of them still doubted. Some of them still weren’t sure. Some of them were still skeptical, cynical, afraid, maybe. Because that means we can be all of those things, too – and still be faithful. Because I’m right there with the doubters, more often than I’d like to admit.

I worry every year that General Fund commitments – never mind actual offerings – are going to show up in a way that supports and grows this ministry. I worry every year that Time and Talent offerings may or may not meet the needs of our nursery, a mowed lawn, a cleaned building, a Grace Quest program, and all the rest. And every time we’ve engaged a building project over the last 25 years at Cross of Grace – and this will be our fourth – I’ve worried that we are building too much, too soon, of the right spaces, for the right about amount of money.

And I worry most about you – and about whose doubts, discouragement, and disappointments are going to get the best of them.

But in spite of my doubts and my worries and my misgivings and concerns, I just keep showing up to this mountain I feel God has called us to. Maybe it’s foolish. Maybe it’s faith. I don’t know. But I just keep doing my best to worship and learn and serve, I mean. I doubt and I worship. I doubt and I learn. I doubt and I serve. And I do it all over and over and over again. And I’m grateful that so many of you join me for it, too.

Because I love it when a plan comes together … a plan only God can design, dictate, and deliver.

It’s a plan that looks like a wide welcome of love and affirmation for LGBTQ+ children of God – in a world and a faith that still doesn’t get it.

It’s plan that has helped to build over 100 houses in Fondwa, Haiti, right along with every square foot of facility we’ve built for ourselves around here.

It’s a plan that includes a voice for racial justice and equity that would otherwise be silent in a community that hasn’t heard all we have to say on the matter.

It’s a plan that has called us – as Partners in Mission – to baptize and confirm, to marry and bury, to feed and nourish, to party, pray, and otherwise walk together – by faith – through a world that can be so lonely and lost and without meaningful connection so much of the time.

It’s a plan that’s still in the making … a plan that’s still coming together … a plan that is messy and risky and cobbled together by an A Team of mismatched misfits and sinners, but full of beautiful things I doubt would happen otherwise, if Cross of Grace weren’t here continuing to grow, still building, and still sharing grace in the unique, bold, faithful ways God has called us to do.

And it’s a plan that will only come together if and when we seek to accomplish it BY God’s grace, FOR God’s glory, and GROUNDED in God’s love revealed in Jesus Christ, crucified and risen for the sake of the world we’re called to serve.

Amen

John 7:37-39

On the last day of the festival, the great day, while Jesus was standing there, he cried out, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me; and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.’” Now he said this about the Spirit, which believers in him were to receive, for as yet there was no Spirit, because Jesus was not yet glorified.

Christa and I spent a few days in Michigan and Northwest Ohio this week and laughed more than once about the colloquialisms, language, and accents of our people and of the places where we were raised: places and people who think mayonnaise and Miracle Whip are synonyms, I mean; people who say things like “Italian dressing;” and people who buy “pop” – not soda – at “Krogers” or at “Meijers.” I have disabused myself of a lot of that, although “pop” is and will always be “pop,” in my world.

All of this is to say, I have language on the brain this Pentecost Sunday, and I wish I could speak more of them. My four years of high school and undergraduate minor in Spanish haven’t lasted as long as they woulda, coulda, should have. I never did the much-needed “full-immersion” thing where I spent enough time living in and engaging with the culture of a people so that I could practice, speak, and learn that language, which is still more foreign to me than not.

And I have traveled enough to regret my ignorance of and inability to speak other languages in very tangible, up close and personal ways. Of course, it would be nice to order the best food at restaurants and ask about and follow directions in a new city, but it would be most meaningful to communicate conversationally with people more deeply and more meaningfully, to worship, even, when traveling in other countries and cultures.

Of course, I’ve noticed this most, over the years, in Haiti. There was a spell of about 18 months once, where I was in Fondwa three separate times, for a week at a clip, and, while I was nowhere near speaking Haitian Creole with any fluency, I did find that I could almost eavesdrop on conversations between my Haitian friends and just about make sense of, and anticipate discussions with, our translators as we lived and worked and spent time with our people there.

And the hardest thing about this longing for language – the most convicting part of it all – is how so much of the rest of the world is at least bi-lingual; how, when I have traveled to places like Haiti, Mexico, Italy, Greece, Germany, and more, average bears in all of those places are able to speak my language – to engage me with patience and kindness and wisdom and generosity; how they’re able – and so graciously willing – to meet me where I am and where I need them to be.

Which is how I’m receiving the good news and invitation of Pentecost this time around: with that story from Acts and those tongues of fire and all of those languages, cultures, and nationalities ringing in my ears – along with Jesus’ invitation to come to – and to become – living water for the sake of the world.

See, I think our invitation as God’s people – among so many other things – is to always be listening for and opening ourselves to the needs of the world around us. To not pretend that ours is the only way or the best way to do all the things. To remember – and to celebrate – that Jesus showed up for the sake of the world; that he very literally didn’t speak our language; and that most of us here should approach him with deference and humility because we are utterly unfamiliar with the kind of life he lived – its poverty and low position in the grand scheme of the empire and power he so bravely, faithfully resisted, I mean.

So, on this Pentecost Sunday, as we celebrate what many refer to as the birthday of Christ’s Church in the world, and as we wonder about our call as wannabe followers of Jesus in that regard – and as a congregation of Partners in Mission, more specifically – I find myself wondering about the way we find ourselves looking beyond our own walls, into the hearts and minds, into the lives and longings of others, and speaking their language – if not literally, than spiritually … faithfully … lovingly … graciously – like Jesus did and like Jesus calls us to do, as believers from whom rivers of living water are supposed to flow.

If you haven’t seen the Greenfield Reporter article from yesterday yet, please check it out. They ran a lovely piece about the many places our most recent round of Building and Outreach grants will go. In addition to our continued support of Project Rouj, to build homes in Haiti, $45,000 are in the mail to places and people who live and speak very differently than we do in so many ways: impoverished communities of color in Louisiana, shelters and transitional housing ministries on the west side of Indy, recovery houses, rehab centers, and therapy for children with disabilities as far away as Guatemala.

And you should know, if you haven’t heard, that it appears our Summer Reading Program – with special invitation and encouragement for kids learning English – seems to really be happening. With a week and a half to go there are 11 kids signed up so far. And with last names like Perez, Garcia, Montalvan, and Mercano, we are all going to be speaking and learning and sharing grace in more ways and languages than just one around here. And I think it’s going to be beautiful.

And don’t get me wrong. Let’s not break our arms patting ourselves and each other on the back. We have plenty of work to do until there are at least as many Black and brown people joining us for worship on Sunday morning at 8:30 a.m. and 10:45 a.m., as there are those who show up to the food pantry on Wednesdays between 4 p.m. and 6 p.m.

Which, again, for me, is at least part of the call of this Pentecost celebration and of the Pentecost season to come for us. It’s about recognizing the scope of the Church’s mission – our mission here at Cross of Grace and the mission of God’s Church in the world, just the same. Our building project is about making room in a very literal way for more of God’s children to join us here, to receive and to share the living water of grace so many of us have found in this place, with so many who don’t know it exists. And the money our Building Fund’s tithe will allow us to share to build homes in Fondwa, Haiti – each of which now includes a water cistern, by the way – will continue to share living water, literally – and so much more – with God’s children in the poorest country in the western hemisphere.

In addition to that, the General Fund commitments and the Time and Talent offerings I hope you’re praying about increasing and adding to the mix next Sunday, will be continue to be used – not just for our own sake – but because we exist to love and serve our neighbor; and because the grace we proclaim, promise, and pour out in the waters of Holy Baptism around here, are for all people – ANYONE who is thirsty; and because when we do that in the spirit of Pentecost – when we get it right – we do it more faithfully than a lot of people feel comfortable and more graciously than enough churches feel called.

My friend Jamalyn – who many of you know, too, as the founder of Project Rouj, the organization we support that builds all those houses in Haiti – she is fluent in Haitian Creole, having lived there for a couple of years, just out of seminary. I remember her saying once, on one of our trips to Fondwa, that it takes her a couple of days of being back in the country to feel like she’s speaking fluently and communicating, in Creole, as fully as she likes; that it takes her a minute to get her bearings and back into the swing of it, but that she knows when that has happened, because she starts to dream in Creole.

And I think that’s just about the most beautiful, holy way to wonder about today’s Pentecost good news: that we will know we’re in the swing of it … that the Holy Spirit has hold of us … that we are speaking God’s language … whether it’s Haitian Creole, Spanish, German, Italian, or midwestern English … if and when we start dreaming in ways that inspire our capacity to understand, love, and serve all of God’s children, wherever they may be and for whatever it is that they thirst.

When we start dreaming about our longing to meet the needs of others before our own…

When we start dreaming about ways God’s kingdom can come alive among us and flow through us – not just for us – like so much living water…

So that our generosity of time, talent, and treasure; our desire to worship, learn, and serve turns God’s Church – and Cross of Grace as part of it – into nothing more and nothing less than a vessel for the very Holy Spirit of God’s love, for the sake of the world, in Jesus’ name.

Amen

Faith, Doubt, and The A Team

Pentecost and the Language of God