Pentecost
Sunday
May 27,
2007
“When the
Wind Blows . . .”
Acts
2:1-8, 12-21
A
writer, who had gone to the Vietnam War Memorial in
Part of the Memorial’s power is its interpretation of how we
at home saw the war. The Memorial is a
very simple design: a chevron shape of polished black granite set into the
earth. It’s only ornament: the names of
57,939 Americans killed or missing in
As you start down the slope to the center of the Memorial,
the granite rises at first only a few inches from the ground, hardly enough to
trip a child. The first panel of names
contains only one line. But as you walk
on, the wall grows higher and higher until at the highest point of the wedge
the walls stand more than ten feet tall, looming over you and carrying 137 lines
of names, five names to a line. To stand
at that point and glance to the left and to the right—with only blackness and
names visible—is to feel again the grip in which
The Memorial becomes many things. It’s a wailing wall. It’s a mirror, for one can see one’s self in
its polished surface. It’s also an
altar, littered with the evidence of burdens laid before it. Roses and carnations have been dropped before
the panels. Lipstick gives testimony of
how many names have been kissed. Notes
on scraps of paper are stuck between the panels: “Johnny, we still love you . .
. Bill, we won’t forget!” Some people
stand quietly, touching a name with the tips of their fingers—as if the letters
were a kind of Braille that would yield a deeper meaning to touch than they do
to mere sight ... It’s at once evidence of a wound’s healing and a reminder of
its deep hurt.
I
share these moving words not only because they speak to us on this Sunday before Memorial Day, but also because
there’s a deep connection between the writer’s experience and the event we
celebrate today—Pentecost. The power of
the Holy Spirit that was poured out on those first followers of Jesus gathered
in
That
first Pentecost became for the disciples both an assurance and a warning. It convinced the followers of Jesus that the
unseen presence and power of God are always
in our midst, but it also taught them that God’s Spirit is not
predictable. Like the wind that blows
where it will—coming sometimes as a gentle breeze and other times with
hurricane force—so we can never know where the Spirit will move, when it will
come, what it will do to change and unsettle us, heal and help us, save and
summon us. Ask Peter, James, Thomas or
Mary Magdalene and the others who were together in
The
first thing I want to say is this: let’s be aware that the Spirit of God is
always full of surprises. Pentecost reveals how God’s ways still catch
us off guard with the unexpected and the improbable. Our world is not as fixed and finished as we
would believe. We’re discovering
everyday that the world is flexible, faithful and that it’s full of spontaneous
events—events that are still
unfolding. One scientific theorist put
it this way:
In the world there’s nothing to explain
the world. Nothing to explain the hunger
of the elements to become life, nothing to explain why the impassive stuff of
rock and soil would diversify into beauty, terror and uncertainty. To bring organic novelty into existence, to
create joy and beauty demands more than we scientists can discern through our
analyses and theories.
The universe is not as predictable as we once thought it
was. God is full of surprises and God’s
not yet finished with our world.
What’s
true of the created order, where new discoveries make scientists scratch their
heads and revise their theories, is also true in our personal lives. Some say, “I’ll never be loved. I’ll never learn, I’ll never change, I’ll
never be worth anything, and I’ll never make it.” Some believe that things always stay the
same, that the past determines the present and future, that history is an
unending cycle of repeated pain and struggle, evil and tragedy, decay and
destruction with just enough beauty and fulfillment thrown in to keep us
striving for something better.
However,
experience does not always repeat itself. The past need not make us captive. People can change and they are changed. No one needs to
stay the way he or she is. No one needs
to allow circumstances to defeat her or him.
Today God may upset our
“take-for-granted” routine, challenge our pessimistic expectations, turn us
around and set us free. Today God may shatter our fixed
perceptions, open doors to new opportunities and bring us together in exciting
new relationships. Today God may come and rescue us from our hell and make of our
lives songs of joy.
A
young Australian tells how it happened to him:
I planned my
own death carefully. Just nineteen,
lonely and sorrowful, I was resigned to the act. I could see no way out of my desolate
experience.
At my last
planned meal on earth, I gazed stupidly at the people about me. I was numb to them; they were unaware of
me. I slowly ate. Suddenly a familiar husky voice said, “G’day,
Charlie!” I looked up. My bearded brother stood there, gazing at me,
his eyes amazed at mine, penetrating me with incredulous questions. I mumbled something. His hands shook me from my daze and pulled me
to my feet. He pulled me back from the
edge of despair.
How my brother got there, I don’t know,
but he saved me. He had just returned
from an overseas trip and had just flown in . . . full of stories and tales,
with lots of photos, gifts and excited talk.
I had no idea he was returning at that time, that day or that he knew
where I was. I look back now and see
some finely cut timing. What if he’d
been half-an-hour later? Surely he
would’ve missed me and wouldn’t I have taken that long, dark lonely walk? Now, twelve years later, I often jog past the
very spot that I had chosen as my deathbed.
I say a quiet prayer of thanks.
“Jesus, your saving grace saved me from myself. Your divine coincidence allowed that meeting
with my brother to happen. You had your
hand on my life even then, O Lord.”
Pentecost
reveals how God’s Spirit is always full of surprises and that God’s not yet
finished with our world or with you
and me!
Secondly,
let’s also note that the powerful wind of God’s Spirit is blowing wherever
persons face themselves, admit their need, and desire to grow in Christ toward
wholeness. In such
moments of confrontation and commitment, we meet the Lord who greets us with
love, goes with us to risk new beginnings, and then we realize how much we can
become, how things can change. It’s an exciting moment when painful memories
and the deceptions we’ve held are discarded and redeemed. It’s a holy moment when we’re released from
the fears that tyrannize us and the compulsions that possess us, as we claim
the love and power of Christ who sets us free to become what we were meant to
do and be.
Not
long ago, a woman asked about ordering a New Testament. She wanted a pocket-sized one that she could
carry in her purse. She smiled as she
told how she no longer had any Bibles at home because she’d either damaged them
beyond repair by throwing them at the wall in her anger at God, or had tossed
them along with her faith into the trash.
Life, at one point, had grown dark for her with deep frustration and
pain and she had blamed God for it and rejected Christ. Then there came for her a personal Pentecost. Her life had been turned around and instead
of throwing Bibles at God, she’s now eager to grow in her faith as she walks
with the Lord on her spiritual journey.
When
it happens—when persons undergo a change of heart, will, mind, behavior,
perspective and priority—it’s so life-penetrating that it can only be
understood as a power in us that is not
our own. It’s Pentecost again as the
Holy Spirit moves to enable us to face ourselves, to accept and correct our
troubled past, to confess our wrong-doings, to assume our true stature, to
affirm life and to live from God’s love.
Finally,
let’s recognize another place where the Spirit’s activity can be distinguished,
and that’s wherever human brokenness is healed and loved is shared. Don’t we sometimes wonder: Is there no longer
a place for gentleness in our world? Are
compassion and simple kindness no longer possible? Has justice been thrown away along with human
dignity? Has the world forgotten how to
love with constancy that becomes reconciliation and righteousness? Is our world to bleed to death slowly,
stumbling and struggling amid the rubble of crime, war, riots, terrorism,
immorality, flawed institutions, world hunger, military madness, and political
tyranny? Are we ready to let life be a
“NO!”?
When
the day is dark for us and it seems the world is suffocating with the ugly and
the absurd, we are tempted to give
in. Nevertheless, when the “NO!” is
screamed the loudest and when evil seems poised for triumph, God breaks open a
Pentecost and the impossible happens.
Healing occurs and alienation ends in embracing. In the midst of ugly violence, someone in the
power of the Spirit stands for reconciliation and peace is restored. The Holy Spirit hovers over people and hearts
meet hearts with understanding, barriers fall down and people care for one
another with loving-kindness. Enemy
lines of battle become starting points of friendship. Bridges are built over troubled waters
bringing people close and they walk on together to where they ought to be.
We
see it happen in a woman who goes by the name of Mama Hale. She lives in
Holding
an infant born with a heroin addiction, and crying for the drug, Mama Hale
says, “There’s not much I can do but hold this child and tell her, ‘I love you
and God loves you and your mama loves you, too.
But child, your mama needs a little more time.’ My own mother taught me to love people like
Jesus loved people. That’s why I’m here
doing what I’m doing.”
Some
may ask what difference such gestures and breakthroughs make against the
monumental anguish and evil of our day.
Well, that first Pentecost didn’t make any impression on Caesar in his
palace in
Not
for the mighty wind do we pray, loving and gracious God, nor for the tongues of
flame. Yet in a humbler way we ask that
your Holy Spirit be in truth among us as we celebrate the church and its
mission at home and abroad. Let it stir
us from lethargy, inspire us with faith, commit us to labor and fill us with
hope. Make us in fact what we already
claim to be: disciples of your Son, Jesus Christ, for we pray in his name. Amen!