Pentecost Sunday Acts 2: 1-21
12 June 2011
Burkes Garden VA Psalm 104:24-34, 35b John 20: 19-23
Psalm 104:24-34, 35b
Fire. Wind. Such elemental forces that can bring comfort and joy. Or violence and destruction. For the disciples and those gathered in Jerusalem, fire and wind were well known ways of God showing Gods own work in the world. When I read the ancient stories in the Bible, I sometimes imagine I am part of a group gathered around a fire during the wilderness wanderings, sharing the stories that are making us a people. The fire crackles and pops, providing warmth in the chill of the evening, light in the darkness, safety in keeping wild animals away, community in drawing us together over the meals we cook on the fire. The story tellers connect us again to who we are as we hear how God breathed life into creation at the beginning, remember how we crossed over the sea when the wind divided the water, how we followed clouds by day and fire by night in the wilderness, how God appeared to Moses in the burning bush. Oh yes, we understand well how God appears and leads and gives life in elements of fire and wind, the breath of God.
So the wind rushing through the room and the tongues of flame that alight on each disciple might be unexpected and even surprising to the gathered disciples, but they would be understood in the context of Gods actions and Gods selfrevelation throughout the history of the people of God. The fire and wind also fulfill what John the Baptist and Jesus had promised. The baptism of the Holy Spirit is another of the amazing in-breakings of God into human history that mark a new way God acts in the world. The disciples were all gathered together in one place, as a community; in fact the text tells us they were sitting in a house. The Holy Spirit came into the house with force and the sound of a rushing violent wind. No gentle breezes, this is a hurricane of the holy. The power of God was manifested in the wind, the flames, and the ability to speak in the languages of foreigners. The text isnt explicit, but the disciples had to have left the house and gone to somewhere where the foreign Jews were gathered; the temple seems a logical possibility. And people started gathering around the disciples, hearing their own languages being spoken. If you have traveled to a foreign country where you do not
know the native language, you might understand the amazement and perplexity of the strangers. I remember being on a crowded train in Athens, feeling unsure about whether I was following the directions to my destination correctly, when I heard words in Englishwhat a relief to be able to speak to someone in full, complex sentences! The fact that he didnt know just where he was headed either didnt matter much ultimately. We were able to understand each other, and what joy it was to discover the commonality that genuine understanding brings. So when these Jewish people from fifteen different cultures and languages heard their own tongues spoken, they were indeed amazed. Peter answers the questions of how has this happened? Are they drunk? by quoting Joel: God says I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh . . . The fire and the wind are the signs of the Spirit poured out for all the world. This Pentecost event is the beginning of the Christian church and its mission. It is the same Spirit that Jesus breathes onto the disciples in Johns gospel; the Spirit that both brings peace and empowers ministry. The baptism of the Holy Spirit is really the baptism of the church into the life
and work of God, to be the carrier of the good news of Christ, of the mission of God, of the fire, of the wind. The time we are in now, between Jesus ascension and his return, is the time of the church. It bears repeating: now the church is the carrier of the good news of Jesus Christ. Of the mission of God. Of the wind. Of the fire. Sometimes it seems that the fire we tend is so controlled, so contained, so small. I get disheartened at times, when I compare what I know of the church today to the way it seemed in the accounts of Acts. The fire in the early church became a wild fire as it was driven by the wind throughout their world. The farmhouse where I grew up had a coal furnace when I was very young. In that cold climate of Minnesota, it was important to not let the fire go out, so my parents would carefully bank the fire to last through the night, providing enough heat so water pipes wouldnt freeze and burst. To bank a fire, one must cut the air supply way down. This is done by waiting for a good bed of ashes to build up, then pushing all the fuel close together to block off as much air as possible, covering the glowing coals with more ashes, and
closing the dampers. The fire will continue very slowly through the night. In the morning, the dampers get opened, the ashes are shoveled off the top of the coals and the coals separated again, new fuel is added, and air is supplied by blowing on the coals until the fire is once more ablaze. The conserved fire burns bright and hot again. Kristin Emery Saldine offers an image to ponder: Liturgically, the Day of Pentecost completes the cycle that begins with Ash Wednesday and continues through Lent and Holy Week and into Eastertide. It is the capstone of a liturgical journey that moves symbolically from ashes to fire. Ashes to fire. The ashes have allowed us to bank the fire, to conserve and control it. They have fulfilled their role, reminding us of our own finitude when they were imposed on our foreheads weeks ago. Now, though, it is time as community to brush them aside, not forgetting their claim on us but not allowing our finitude to get in the way of Gods infinitude and the power of God made manifest in community.
What would it look like, I wonder, if the church got up in the morning, brushed aside the ashes, added new fuel, and allowed the wind of the Holy Spirit to blow over the glowing coals? To go from ashes to fire, driven by the wind throughout the world. It sounds dangerous, doesnt it? It sounds risky. Dare we chance it? Fire that grows hotter and wilder as the Holy Spirit provides Gods own breath to make the coals blaze? Can the church dare become such a gift to the world, to be the fiery body of Christ that brings light and warmth to those in the dark and the cold? God calls the church to make the journey from ashes to fire. It is a grand adventure, filled with possibility and promise. Lets take the risk!
Amen
