May 31, 2020 Sermon: Holy Wind

I can’t preach the sermon I had prepared.  Not today.  For weeks, we have been living under the immense tension and pressure caused by an uncontrollable evil that is sweeping around the world.  I’ve read, I’ve heard, I’ve even preached and prayed about how it knows no boundaries of rich or poor, religion, gender, station in life, and yes, race and ethnicity.  Our city, country, and yes, the world, has plunged into economic turmoil as millions have lost their jobs.  Just now, as we are beginning to tentatively step out in small ways, back into life, the tension and strife in our country has been building.  Medical advice has become politicized.  What began as an effort to love our neighbors…out of care and concern for the “at risk” communities, the vulnerable, those who are experiencing homelessness and living in poverty – that we would unite together to stay at home – has now become chaos and disunity.  It has become violence. 

The sermon I originally had prepared was one about the violent, disruptive power of the wind and the flame.  That sermon went something along these lines….

       

In the days following the betrayal, the violent death, the Saturday of  unknowing and grief, following the resurrection surprise – the shock, doubt, laughter, joy, and feasting, after they had witnessed the ascension, after Judas committed suicide, after they went back to the room upstairs where they were staying, when they were gathered altogether (this part is pretty important, that they were gathered altogether), the sound like the blowing of a violent wind (something we’re used to here in Nebraska) came from heaven and filled the house where they were staying – a wind, blowing inside the house (which we’re not used to) – and what seemed to be tongues of fire separated and rested on each one of them, and all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit, they began to speak in tongues, undoing the disunity of the tower of Babel in Genesis, and apparently there was a crowd there, from everywhere were diverse and united, all at once.  This is the birth of the church, in a violent wind and tongues of fire, the calling of the Holy Spirit to be united in our diversity, the hope for the future.  This, dear friends, that sermon went, is the violent disruption that has happened in our world.  Scholar Ronald Allen says, “Acts 2:5-13 pictures the Spirit demonstrating on Pentecost that the reunion of the scattered human family is beginning to take place.”[1]  We are united as we never have been before, united by our common humanity exposed by the threat of a new virus strain.  That sermon urged us to take these moments to pause and reflect on how to carry this new knowledge, the new reality into the unknown future.  That sermon said something like, we can change the arc of justice here, using this time to evaluate the inequities and divisions in our society of economics, religion, gender, identity, and race. 

       

That sermon doesn’t preach.  And it shouldn’t be preached. 

I’m not as excited about the connections between the violent wind and the tongues of flame.  That was the whole origination of that sermon.  After the strong winds of this past week, I was excited by the natural forces sweeping in with such a great sermon illustration.  I was excited to see what those winds might bring, in the way of change and upheaval – what violent disruption would follow.  As the events of the week unfolded, however, and then particularly the events of last night, with the rioting, looting, and tongues of fire coming from cars, buildings, and trash heaps, those images of violent wind and fire, the disruption they cause…I can’t just preach a sermon, the ‘usual’ Pentecost sermon about the birth of the church.

As a student of history, I know that the church has long been part of the problem.  The church has been an active force of oppression and injustice.  The church has either stood on the wrong side of justice, abusing power and trust, or sat in silence.  I know that I have benefited from those structures, in church and society, that today value my skin color and accent, if not my gender. 

       

So I don’t really know what to preach.  That’s just pure honesty right there.  I join in condemning the societal structures that teach us to value some more than others because of the color of their skin.  I condemn structures that have taught us to be afraid of each other.  I condemn the actions of people in positions of power and authority that abuse that power, to the point of death.  I condemn violence in our streets, looting, and setting our cities on fire. 

       

As I try to put it all together and make sense of it, I find myself honestly without spiritual resources to process all of it.  For weeks we’ve heard, “we’re all in this together,” clapped for the heroes who happen to hold “essential jobs,” creatively overcame challenges of celebrating birthdays, weddings, and graduations.  And all the while, the glaring reality of race in America was telling us that there are injustices and divides we have not dealt with as a country.  And every time it comes up again, we run, we march, we protest, we say we want to be better, do better.  But then we don’t.  Because the structure is broken, but it’s what we know.  As Walter Brueggemann writes in “The Prophetic Imagination,” the societal structure is broken, but it’s what we know, we’re used to it, so we get complacent, choosing what we know over what is right. 

       

Friends, I don’t have the answers today.  Like many of us, I’m overwhelmed by the weight of the task before us as we live in a time of pandemic, and as we once again face societal structures of privilege and racism.  So I will draw heavily from the points of Bible scholar and professor, Matthew Skinner, to break this account of the church’s birthday down. 

       
The crowd asks, “What does this mean?” and Peter replies, “the unleashing of God’s spirit indicates the beginning of a new day in human history.”[2]  After the disciples have gone back to the place where they have been staying in a time of uncertainty, a place where they are complacent if not comfortable, they are filled with the Holy Spirit, and Peter announces that the time has come.  This is a new thing, and in thinking about it in light of current events, I have to believe that they were no less uncertain and terrified than we are.  Their future, as well, was uncertain.  They had left everything they knew, everything they had, in order to follow their beloved teacher.  They had been through chaos, uncertainty, injustice, and violence.  They stuck together, and then were called out, they did not know for what. 

       

The crowd asks, “what does this mean?” and Peter replies, “the Spirit marks [all people – sons and daughters, old and young, men and women – each one – as belonging to God.”[3]  Those who are filled with the Spirit serve God and speak and work on God’s behalf.  I just want to step out here and say this is tricky, because history tells us that power and control are mighty sneaky motivators, often showing up as hidden or unknown agendas.  This is what Brueggemann meant when he said we grow complacent.  Why ever would you want to give up power and control, stability and comfort?  Especially if you were benefitting from it, knowingly or unknowingly?  This passage from Acts tells us we serve God and speak and work on God’s behalf.  I’m not sure if that’s meant as a charge – go have dreams and visions, and prophecy – or as a result of having the Spirit – that the Spirit will give us the words and actions.  Perhaps like most things its both/and – our work and the Spirit’s work together. 

      

The crowd asks, “what does this mean?” and Peter replies, “we are now a community of faith, a community of prophets called to speak, act, and interpret.”[4]  What we are interpreting is that God is here now.  Present here among us.  “[H]umanity’s existence and the life of God do not exist in separate planes; rather, they are intertwined, each a part of the other.”[5] As theologian Willie James Jennings says, “They may have asked for the Holy Spirit to come, but they did not ask for this. This is real grace, untamed grace. It is the grace that replaces our fantasies of power over people with God’s fantasy for desire for people.”[6] Now they must go out and live that real, untamed, amazing grace.

      

Friends, we can do better.  We can be better.  Because the core message of this passage is indeed, that the true church of God in Jesus Christ is diverse.  It is the Spirit that unites us.  And I know it’s hard, it’s really hard to take a look at what’s happening and understand all of the complexities of race in America, while fighting a pandemic.  But the time is now.  We must.  For our future’s sake.  For our children’s sake.  We can have a better future, for all people.  In order to get there though, we’re gonna have to step out of the me-first, individualistic mentality to realize that we are all connected, not by a virus, but by our common humanity.  It’s what we are called and equipped to do. 

       

And if we think we can’t, that it’s just too much, let us remember the words of that first Christian hymn, from Philippians 2: In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

6 Who, being in very nature[^a] God,
    did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
7 rather, he made himself nothing
    by taking the very nature[^b] of a servant,
    being made in human likeness.
8 And being found in appearance as a man,
    he humbled himself
    by becoming obedient to death—
        even death on a cross!

9 Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
    and gave him the name that is above every name,
10 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
    in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
11 and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
    to the glory of God the Father.”

Amen.

Rev. Dr. Melodie Jones Pointon

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[1] Allen, Ronald J.. Acts of the Apostles (Fortress Biblical Preaching Commentaries) (p. 29). Fortress Press. Kindle Edition.

[2] Disruptive Gospel, pg. 11.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Jennings, Willie James. Acts: A Theological Commentary on the Bible (Belief: a Theological Commentary on the Bible) (p. 28). Presbyterian Publishing. Kindle Edition.