Tales of a Midwest Lutheran on the East Coast

Sunday, May 31, 2020

Lament and New Languages on Pentecost

Link to the video of this sermon here: Pentecost.

May 31st, 2020

Grace to you and peace from God our creator and from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, amen.

About a week and a half ago on Facebook live I sat in my yard on a sunny, breezy day to tell the story of the Ascension of Jesus to heaven. It’s one of the more minor, underrated festivals of the Church year, but this year it actually brings a special meaning, if you think about the story as Jesus leaving to “work from home.” If you missed it, you can go back on our Facebook page and check it out. You may remember that the music I was using almost blew away, and my paper airplanes didn’t fly very far. I also read the story from the Spark Bible, which ended with the disciples excitedly explaining, “We have work to do! Let’s get going!” Only…. They didn’t, not exactly. At least, not yet.

In the Book of Acts version of the ascension, Jesus’ last words are a promise, that the Holy Spirit would arrive, and that with the power of the Holy Spirit, they would be witness for Jesus both near and far. And what we heard today from the book of Acts is the fruition of that promise – while the disciples were still huddled together, waiting for something unknown to happen, in world that was newly unrecognizable… the spirit arrived. And. How!

Wind.  Loud rushing sounds. Tongues of fire. Sudden language proficiency. So many words and so much noise. But even in all that noise and confusion, suddenly everything made sense, and the disciples were no longer scared – they were ready to face the world, to carry on the work that Jesus began.

To interpret these events for the bewildered disciples and bystanders, Peter quotes from the prophet Joel… “In these last days it will be as God declares, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh…” Portents and visions and scary signs like blood, fire, darkness, and mist. You see, the prophet Joel is the perfect prophet to guide us and help us make sense of this Pentecost moment in a pandemic, because Joel is well acquainted with disaster.

As Joel wrote, plague upon catastrophe was happening in the land – not unlike what is happening around us on a daily basis, right here, right now. Not just with Covid-19, but with literal plagues of locusts happening in Ethiopia, floods in Michigan (and also the continuing Flint Water Crisis), epic storms bearing down on India exacerbated by Climate change, riots and property damage caused by white supremacists in the streets of Minneapolis… and the never ending list of black and brown Americans Like George Floyd who have been murdered at the hands of the very people who are charged to protect them.

By this time, Pentecost 2020, it certainly feels like our world is falling apart around us.
Joel is a prophet familiar this feeling. Peter quotes from Joel Chapter 2, but right before this, the first chapter is Joel lamenting the state of the land, lamenting the death of innocent people, lamenting the suffering that is all around him. Then, Joel writes in hope that as a sign that God will not abandon God’s people – the spirit being poured out indiscriminately: on all genders, on all races and stations, on all ages and abilities.

The first Christians lived in that hope as well. But before they got the completion of that hope in Pentecost, the community travels through the trauma of Good Friday, the new and scary reality of the Resurrection, and the confusion of reorientation and reordering this new way of being. And then it seems like Jesus ups and leaves us just when we need him most!
However, Jesus promised that we would not be alone as he left – body and all – to go “work from home.” That promise is the Holy Spirit, the most “freaky” part of the trinity, which arrived in a completely unexpected way and bestowing gifts on Gods’ people to equip them for ministry in their time and place.

We certainly have a lot to lament, along with Joel. We have experienced the loss of what we knew – loss of jobs, loss of income, loss of movement and in person connection. It feels as though every week, every day, every hour, bring news of a new change, a new way that the world will be different. But one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit is language – the language to mourn, and the language to remember. To remember: all the ways that God has been faithful in the past. And the language to RE-Member – to put ourselves back together again when the world has ripped them apart.

On that original Pentecost Day, the birthday of the Christian Church, the disciples got to leave - no they were PUSHED OUT! – of the little room that they were gathered in. We may not have that luxury, but the Holy Spirit is still arriving in ways we do not expect, but perhaps is preparing us in just the very ways that are necessary right now.
This Pentecost morning you may not have woken up to the sound of a rushing windstorm, or with scorch mark on your pillow from a tongue of flame hanging out over your head. And over breakfast, you probably didn’t ask your family members to pass the eggs in Hungarian, Amharic, or Mandarin Chinese.

But you did tune into this worship service through little miracles that we might take for granted – through the unseen waves of the internet, translated into light and sound by strange metal boxes, or zapping through miles of phone cable right to your ear. Maybe in OUR Pentecost Moment, while it is necessary to stay in place, the Holy Spirit speaks through electricity and waves and social media and apps and keypads. … in order to reach out to people who are down in Buckingham Springs, all over Pennsylvania, and beyond. Miracles upon miracles, all at 10 on a Sunday morning.

I wasn’t planning on attending the Festival of Homiletics last week, as I did last year in person when it was hosted in Minneapolis. But this year, the organizers gave us a gift – free streaming live. Through this event, I heard about Joel’s lament. And how tragic, that just about one year after I was last in Minneapolis, we have so much more to lament – the senseless murder of George Floyd, the destruction of property by white supremacists for the purpose of violent escalation, and the continued suffering of our siblings of color.

The miracle of electricity and wifi and social media gives voice to the suffering, for those who care enough to hear and to act. And it also gives us voice too, in order to speak out, perhaps in a new language, with words we might not be used to saying: White Privilege. Systemic Racism. Black Lives Matter.

Equipped with this new language with the “tongues of flame” we have at our disposal, we cry out in lament, and we also speak out for justice. We speak out, here in Buckingham and Philadelphia, throughout the East Coast, to the ends of the Earth, and may we – with the help of the Holy Spirit – never stop -  not until justice for all is a reality, and God’s kingdom arrives where all can breathe. Thanks be to God. Amen.

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