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 Washington, D.C. to find the name of a friend, discovered more than his friend’s name.  He describes his emotion-filled experience in these words:

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 Vietnam.  Just the names, and occasionally a date to mark the course of the war.

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 Vietnam once held us all.

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 Jerusalem, still fills people today, even as occurred for our young writer.  The Holy Spirit caught him off guard, opened his eyes, enlightened his soul, gathered his deepest feelings and revealed new dimensions of truth.  These same things also occurred on that first Pentecost, the day the wind blew and the Christian Church was born.

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 Jerusalem that day.  Pentecost happened and because it happened, we’re never quite sure of what God will do next in our lives, in our relationships, in our careers, in our growing up and our growing older.  Therefore, we celebrate the miracle of that day long ago by tracing where the Spirit of God is blowing today in our world with Pentecostal awakening and empowerment.

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 New York City and is the loving presence that fills Hale House, her Harlem brownstone building where the babies of drug-addicted mothers are cared for until their own mothers recover enough to care for them.

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 Rome.  Moreover, had someone suggested that what happened in Jerusalem would change the world and outlast the might of the Roman Empire, that person would have been laughed out of court.  However, we know it happened as people alive and filled with the Holy Spirit moved out to make a difference to serve Jesus Christ and to be agents of peace and hope.  Two thousand years later, it still happens, fulfilling the promise of our Lord, “But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria and to the end of the earth.”  We remember this fulfilled promise of Jesus this morning.  May our hearts be open to the empowerment of the Holy Spirit that we might truly be God’s people.  Let us pray:

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!