John 14:8-17
Philip said to [Jesus], “Lord, show us the Father and we will be satisfied.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you this long, Philip, and still you do not know me? Whoever has seen the me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say I do not speak on my own, but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves. Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask for anything, I will do it.
“If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.”
This whole “Pentecost” thing means a lot of stuff historically, symbolically, liturgically, theologically, of course, where life in the church is concerned. Some of it’s interesting. A lot of it, frankly, isn’t. To people who aren’t too familiar with all that we do as Christians in the world, it can seem like insider-language, which I’m never a fan of, so I feel like it bears explaining every once in a while.
One way to talk about Pentecost that’s kind of interesting, is to call it the birthday of the church. We celebrate it 50 days after Easter’s resurrection, to coincide with what gathered those first disciples in Jerusalem at the time of that reading from Acts we just heard – a Jewish holiday they called the Festival of Weeks, which marked the end of Passover for them. While they were gathered in Jerusalem, then, for this festival, some crazy stuff happened – there was a sound like the rush of wind; there were tongues of fire; they started speaking in languages they didn’t know they knew; people out on the streets thought they were drunk – which I do find kind of interesting, actually.
But, many talk about Pentecost as the birthday of the Church, because a new thing happened, which is interesting, too, if not ironic. For an institution that’s known too much of the time for our steadfast stubbornness, to have something like the crazy new things that happened at Pentecost be the hallmark of the Church’s birth and beginning is kind of funny; it’s noteworthy; it’s something we forget too much of the time; and it’s very much worth remembering.
So, in the spirit of Pentecost – and with every imaginable pun intended – in the spirit of Pentecost – I’ve asked for your help with today’s sermon. You all received those flames as you showed today with an open-ended statement on it (“I want to be part of a church that…”), and I thank you in advance for playing along – if you did. I kind of want to know, if you were giving birth to a Church … if you could pick, plan, and propose what you would like our church, your church, The Church to look like, what would you choose?
I want to be part of a church that keeps an open door and open hearts and open minds to all members of this world, no matter what race, color, orientation, or belief.
I want to be part of a church that welcomes all people … that opens doors for all … that makes everyone feel welcome.
I want to be part of a church that uses old hymns.
I want to be part of a church that keeps traditional services for the most part.
I want to be part of a church that cultivates spiritual growth and nurtures the world.
I want to be part of a church that loves.
I want to be part of a church that welcomes everybody – and means it.
I want to be part of a church that feeds the hungry.
I want to be part of a church that is multi-cultural and more colorful.
I want to be part of a church that gives.
I want to be part of a church that lights my fire.
For what it’s worth, this whole idea was inspired by several people who have reached out to me – in person and online – in just the last few weeks (old friends from high school, former Cross of Gracers, virtual strangers and acquaintances) to say they have been inspired by what they’ve been seeing and hearing about our ministry at Cross of Grace. Some – who have moved away from the area – told me they just haven’t been able to find a place like they miss here, at Cross of Grace. Others marvel at the wide welcome we try to extend to our LGBTQ friends, family, and neighbors. Others have simply been moved because all of that has challenged, in a beautiful way, what has otherwise disillusioned them about Christians and the Church. I want to be part of a church that does THAT every day of the week and two, or three, or four, or five times, on Sundays, as the saying goes.
And it reminded me that the Holy Spirit really is living and moving and breathing right here and right now – or it wants to be, anyway. What God is calling us to do here, in our little corner of the kingdom, is no less profound than the tongues of fire that appeared in that room so many generations ago when that handful of disciples – ordinary, plain, simple, men, women and children – gathered in the days after the resurrection wondering what in the world they were supposed to do now that the resurrection had happened and Jesus had left them to their work.
None of the things that so often steal our attention and our energy mattered so much, in that Pentecost moment … It didn’t matter what songs were sung or which liturgy was used. It didn’t matter what the building looked like or how the chairs were arranged. It didn’t matter – even – that others had told them they were crazy to believe any of this stuff in the first place.
What mattered is that the presence of God came into the room and they let it happen, they listened, and they lived differently because of it.
What mattered is they weren’t afraid to open their mouths and let words of grace and blessing and welcome come out – whether they even understood what in the world they were saying with every breath, or not.
What mattered is they didn’t keep any of this to themselves. They told others about the good news of God’s love for the world – and they let everyone in; from every nation; every ethnicity; every culture and color, every language and lifestyle, too, such as it was in their day.
What mattered is that God was doing something new and God’s people were there to let the Holy Spirit have its way with them.
So, let’s do more of that. When it comes to Pentecost and the Holy Spirit and what God is working to do with us, let’s let our own guards down more often and let’s let the Holy Spirit have its way with us.
Because when we let the Spirit move among us, we build buildings and pay off mortgages.
When the Spirit is living within us, we invite and welcome others to join us. We don’t sit behind closed doors and wait for tongues of fire to do all of our talking.
When the Spirit’s alive and well in our lives, we find courage to lead instead of always following our old, safe, comfortable, familiar ways.
When the Spirit inspires our thoughts and prayers, they become words and deeds that do justice and love kindness and work for peace and healing.
When we let the Spirit animate our life together, our hearts open, we hear the needs of others, and we risk sharing ourselves more completely because of it.
And when we let the Spirit of God truly have its way with our worship, learning and service, our friends and neighbors just might think we’re drunk because who would be that generous? Why would you be that kind? How could you be that forgiving? That welcoming? That full of grace?
This morning and in the Days of Pentecost that lie ahead – Days of the Spirit, on the other side of Easter – please pray with me and decide to see just what God will do with you if you let it happen; if we let the Spirit warm us inside and out; and if we let the fire of something new that God is doing burn differently within us.
I imagine we’ll find ourselves on holy ground, often. I imagine we’ll learn new ways to speak “love” and “grace” and “forgiveness” into and for the sake of this world that needs it. I bet we’ll find the Spirit of God in people and in places – in the midst of our fellowship and within ourselves, too – where we never have expected it could be. And I pray it will keep shaping this congregation – and God’s Church in the world – into the kind of place more of God’s children long to call home.
Amen
