Pentecost is the day 50 days after the discovery of Jesus’ empty tomb, and the day that scripture recounts that the disciples heard a mighty rushing wind and saw something like flames dancing between them on upon their heads.
In the midst of this they found their words being blown about like leaves, and they could speak and be understood in dozens of foreign languages. They proclaimed the good news that God was for all and that Jesus had overcome death to signal a new way forward in the world.
This was the fulfillment of the promise Jesus often made to the followers: that he would send the Holy Spirit, a guide, an advocate upon them, and that they would be made witnesses to what God was doing.
So it is that this day is the celebration of the birth of “church,” this improbable and still chaotic vehicle for telling of God’s work, hope, love, and restorative justice.
Like leaves before a wind too big to resist (and believe me some of us have tried), communities of Christians, big and small, have tried to preach in every tongue to say, “God has not forgotten,” and “a better, more beloving community is possible: let us work together to make it visible.”
The mighty wind of the spirit still catches us off guard. The words of other witnesses still fan the flames of new and emerging gifts from member of the Body. The church, this one and countless millions of others, is still reaching toward that beloved community in the hope of enlightening those whose spirit has gone dark.
This Spirit represents the untameable and relentlessly restless aspect of God’s nature. We might have wished that God could have sent an “accounting spirit” or a “spirit of enumerated tasks,” but no. God sends a holy muse, constantly upsetting expectations and rearranging possibilities.
To this I say, “Thank God!” for only by the mixing and mingling of holy people and holy gifts is the peculiar alchemy of “Church,” that living body of believers doing badly all that goodly work. Not in an orderly procession, but by miraculous leaps from unexpecting participants is Good News revealed over and over, and then over again.
As we change the colors of the sanctuary from white to red, I hope the season will kindle in you a willingness to be tossed about, just a little. To be moved from what you’ve always seen, to something you have wanted to see but hadn’t dared.
The disciples weren’t ready, weren’t qualified, and weren’t even sure they were looking to suddenly continue Jesus’ work. They weren’t then, and we probably aren’t now. But like leaves before a summer rainstorm, the rush of God’s blessing can toss and carry us all. “Behold,” says God, “I’m doing wonderful things. Go tell people, quick as you can!”
And so we shall. Quick as we can, best we are able, and for as long as we have breath.
With love,
Rev. Kent
Leave a Reply