Pentecost

Pretzel Logs and a Power Tool

John 20:19-23

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors were locked where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”


When Katelyn and I lived in New Jersey, we fell in love with Pennsylvania Dutch markets. Often hidden in unassuming strip malls, these vibrant markets were full of different vendors selling the most delicious food. The one closest to us was only open three days a week so we didn’t get to go often, but we loved it when we got the chance. We’d grab a few items we’d need for the week and on the way out, get one very special treat: a pretzel log. We’d watch as they rolled the dough, stuffed them with all sorts of unhealthy goodness, and placed them in the oven, our mouths watering the whole time.

One day after helping a friend move, I was near the market and swung in for lunch. Instantly the smell of a pretzel log, overflowing with cheese and bacon, lured me to the booth. I bought two logs with good intentions: I would eat mine now and have Katelyn’s waiting for her when she woke up to go to work. Well I ate mine on the way home.

And then by some irresistible force, the second pretzel log called out to me. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself. I tore into that other pretzel, polishing it off faster than the first, left the bag on the counter and proceeded to study with a full belly. Later that day when Katelyn woke up for work, a night shift nurse at the time, solely supporting us through seminary, she saw the bag. She asked if I went to the market and if so why I didn’t bring her back something. A rush of guilt came over me. I told every excuse I could think of. I didn’t know what you would want. I wasn’t sure if they had what you liked. But she saw through my every excuse. She picked up the bag, put it in the trash, and simply said, “we both know you’re wrong, but I forgive you.”

The resurrected Jesus says to his disciples, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained”. For most of us, forgiveness is a nice idea. It’s something we want to practice, but it’s also really hard. And, if we are honest, we don’t always know what it is or how to do it. Forgiveness is not just forgetting what took place. We don’t suddenly stop remembering the hurt that happened to us nor should we.

We may pretend to, but the harm will reappear, likely causing as much hurt as the first time around. Forgiveness isn’t wrapping ourselves in bandages of time, waiting until the wounds have scarred. Sometimes that can help, but there is hurt we can cause or receive that time alone cannot heal. Forgiveness requires more than just the passing of hours, days, or years.

And forgiveness isn’t merely the words, “I forgive you”; it requires action on the part of both the forgiver and the sinner.

So back to the pretzel log story. It sounds like such a small example, but here she was working night shift, supporting her husband so he can go to class and read and write papers 24/7,

and he took from her the one thing that would have brightened up her day just a little bit on her way to a job she did not like. Yet, she didn’t scold me, or punish me, or demand I get her another pretzel log, all things she was in the right to do.

Instead, She gave up those rights, which is the first action required in forgiveness. And after she gave up her rights, she gave notice of my sin. “We both know you're wrong”, she said to me in a calm, almost sly, manner. She didn’t pile on the guilt or yell, “how dare you eat the pretzel log you bought with my money!” which was true! She simply told me what I did was wrong; the second action of forgiveness.

Finally, she gave me a gift, namely love when I didn’t deserve it and expected nothing in return.

Like a tool, she used forgiveness to put back together our fractured relationship that I had severed with my selfish sin. And that’s what forgiveness is: giving up rights, giving notice, and giving gifts; A tool that rebuilds a broken relationship.

We see and experience this forgiveness best in Jesus Christ. Becoming fleshing, he gave up his rights, as Ephesians 2 says “he emptied himself taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness. And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death - even death on a cross”.

And it’s there on the cross that he gave notice of our sins because that’s what put him there; his full of mercy and justice and love, shows the depth of sin in and around us. And yet, from the cross and in his resurrection he gave gifts: gifts of grace and hope and life eternal when we deserved none of it. “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do”. “As much as you could sin, so much did Jesus forgive you”. Always has. Always will.

Yet, some of us have experienced more serious sins than a stolen pretzel log; we’ve been hurt in ways or been hurt too many times, that we are unsure if we can forgive. After all, we aren’t Jesus. I agree with Walt Wangerin who said,

“This is the human predicament: we are able to sin infinitely against one another, but we are able to forgive only finitely. Left to ourselves alone, forgiveness will run out long before the sinning does [because] we are not able to forgive equal to another’s sinning - not when such giving must come solely from ourselves.”

Thankfully, forgiveness is not just a tool able to put ruptured relationships back together, but a power tool with a source of power that comes from outside of ourselves. “Receive the Holy Spirit”, Jesus said to his disciples as he filled their lungs with his very presence. That’s the power, the true source that enables us to forgive the sins of others. It’s the Holy Spirit, dwelling in you, that makes known Jesus’ limitless forgiveness for you; no matter the mistakes you’ve made, the choices you chose, or the hurt you’ve caused. Jesus is the well of forgiveness that never runs dry.

And once you know once you have experienced that balm for your sin sick soul, you also are able to share that forgiveness with your spouse, your friend, your parent, your child, your neighbor, and even your enemies. To be clear, when Jesus commissions the disciples and us to forgive or retain sins, he doesn’t make us divine agents able to produce forgiveness that reconciles a relationship between someone else and God. Only Jesus does that and it’s already been done. That’s why during the absolution in worship the pastor “declares” your forgiveness;

I get to tell you the good news, but it’s Christ who’s actually done the work.

The forgiveness that Jesus commissions the disciples for, and us for, is the forgiveness that reconciles relationships between individuals. There are other types of forgiveness that are different, such as forgiveness between races or institutions or nations; but that’s another sermon for another time.

For this sermon, it's enough to say that like the disciples, we too have been given what we need to forgive. But whether we do it or not, whether we forgive or retain is up to us. And the good news, or bad news depending on how you look at it, is that ultimately God forgives all the sin and reconciles all things to God’s self anyway, whether it’s in this life or the life to come. So why retain them?

Instead, offer a pretzel log, use that power tool of forgiveness, and repair what’s been broken.


“I Want to Be Part of a Church That…”

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