Sabbatical 2023: Time for Vita Comunitaria

I made the mistake yesterday of going to the local grocery store during the noon rush. Here, as in most small villages in Italy, things shut down around 12:30 or so for the afternoon riposo. So, right around this time, the grocery store is packed with people headed home from work or from school to pick up a few things for lunch. Italians don't shop for groceries once a week, but, because they can so easily walk to the grocery store, usually go every day or couple of days. 

Looking at this idea of riposo (or siesta in Spanish, which you might know better) from an American cultural viewpoint, we might consider this unproductive. And unnecessary. A waste of good working or learning time. This tradition, though, came out of necessity, especially in more southern places where the heat of the day can be intense. Buildings weren't air conditioned. It was dangerous for workers to be outside in these high temperatures. So, this cultural phenomenon developed. Everyone goes home to have lunch and to rest. Then, around 5p, when things started to cool down, they return to work and school for about another 3 hours or so.

This is possible when you live and work and go to school in a small village because you live within easy walking distance of everywhere you need to be. School is a 5-10 minute walk away. The grocery store and other shops are the same. So, are workplaces. By slowing down the pace of life, spending time together, meeting one another on the street as you're walking to and fro, and even running into each other in the grocery store during the noon rush - all of this creates community. Add into it the evening tradition of the la passeggiata - an evening stroll where the entire family goes out and walks the main corso together, running into friends and other family members, catching up on the news of the day - then followed by another time of gathering together for a meal that often stretches late into the evening, and vita comunitaria (communal life) just happens. Naturally. All the time.

During the period of the Middle Ages, all three of the major religions - Judaism, Islam and Christianity - innovated their spiritual traditions centered around the idea of God as lover and human beings as beloved, an acknowledgement of the feminine in spirituality. The many rich and abundant texts by female mystics were composed in and for very specific communities. As urban centers grew, the need for pastoral care in towns and cities required greater lay participation. Lay women and men organized themselves into these communities, some endorsed by the Church and others not. Spirituality was formed in community. Pastoral care was offered from within these communities. Even in the U.S., up until the individualism of the 20th century, much of faith life was developed through communal life. 

My time in Orvieto reflecting on vita comunitaria, both past and present, makes me recognize that we've lost something in America. Faith is meant to be shaped and lived out communally. Each of us is blessed by God with unique gifts to serve that community, which then offers them more fully in greater society. We are called to be the body of Christ, working together, then sent out to perform what Ulrike Wietnaus calls "street mysticism." It is on the streets where we find sacred space like the feminine mystics did - in the open spaces of markets, churches, shrines dedicated to the saints, shops, apothecaries, roads and hospitals. It is on the streets where the spiritual and the secular mix. (Perrin, 4-7)

This Sunday is Pentecost Sunday. It's a huge festival in Orvieto that celebrates the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the Apostles. Here, it is celebrated in the streets of this village - communally - with a Vigil mass, processions, an art festival, an evening dance, then culminating on Sunday with the palombella, an ancient aerial transit of a dove (la columba) from the Church of St. Frances (Chiesa de San Francesco) to the duomo with fireworks. (I promise to take pictures as long as you don't show them to PETA!) Here, the sacred intermingles with the secular. There is no separation. One can only wonder how much fuller the lives of Orvietans are because these two aspects of life - and our very beings - aren't separated from each other, but fully intertwined as part of life together. 

Something to think about on this Vigil of Pentecost. Fino a tardi!

Living in Hope: The Way of Christ (Part 2)

When Pentecost Day arrived, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound from heaven like the howling of a fierce wind filled the entire house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be individual flames of fire alighting on each one of them. They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages as the Spirit enabled them to speak.

There were pious Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. When they heard this sound, a crowd gathered. They were mystified because everyone heard them speaking in their native languages. They were surprised and amazed, saying, “Look, aren’t all the people who are speaking Galileans, every one of them? How then can each of us hear them speaking in our native language? Parthians, Medes, and Elamites; as well as residents of Mesopotamia, Judea, and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the regions of Libya bordering Cyrene; and visitors from Rome (both Jews and converts to Judaism), Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the mighty works of God in our own languages!” They were all surprised and bewildered. Some asked each other, “What does this mean?” Others jeered at them, saying, “They’re full of new wine!”

Peter stood with the other eleven apostles. He raised his voice and declared, “Judeans and everyone living in Jerusalem! Know this! Listen carefully to my words! These people aren’t drunk, as you suspect; after all, it’s only nine o’clock in the morning! Rather, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

In the last days, God says,

I will pour out my Spirit on all people.

    Your sons and daughters will prophesy.

    Your young will see visions.

    Your elders will dream dreams.

    Even upon my servants, men and women,

        I will pour out my Spirit in those days,

        and they will prophesy.

I will cause wonders to occur in the heavens above

    and signs on the earth below,

        blood and fire and a cloud of smoke.

The sun will be changed into darkness,

    and the moon will be changed into blood,

        before the great and spectacular day of the Lord comes.

And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. --Acts 2:1-21 (CEB)

Be glad in the Lord always! Again I say, be glad! Let your gentleness show in your treatment of all people. The Lord is near. Don’t be anxious about anything; rather, bring up all of your requests to God in your prayers and petitions, along with giving thanks. Then the peace of God that exceeds all understanding will keep your hearts and minds safe in Christ Jesus.

From now on, brothers and sisters, if anything is excellent and if anything is admirable, focus your thoughts on these things: all that is true, all that is holy, all that is just, all that is pure, all that is lovely, and all that is worthy of praise. --Philippians 4:4-8 (CEB)

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Do you ever think about the Holy Spirit on that Pentecost day? More specifically, the sound of the Holy Spirit. Like a wind, our text tells us. It was a sound unheard at creation, but, here, on Pentecost it is like a wind.

Do you imagine what it sounded and felt like?  Do you imagine it was a soft, gentle breeze? Like the ones that we sometimes get here on a summer day, that make the heat of the day seem just a little more tolerable? Or do you imagine it to be a stronger wind? The type of wind that we also experience here - the wind that signals a coming storm front? That tells us our weather is about to change?

I think alot about the Holy Spirit as being like the wind. I always have. Maybe it’s because of growing up on the prairie where the wind blew constantly. Often a gentle breeze. But, sometimes, really strong winds. What we now call straight line winds. Winds that can be disorienting. Frightening. Unpredictable. Destructive. Even violent.

That was what the Holy Spirit sounded like that day. On that Jewish feast day, Shavuot. Or Pentecost in Greek. Meaning fifty. Because it was commanded to come fifty days after Passover. One of three of the primary Jewish festivals for which people were commanded to return to Jerusalem. Shavuot, or Pentecost, celebrated the giving of the Torah on Mount Sinai during the Exodus - God’s Instruction coming down to God’s people. 

They had come from all over. We heard the names of the places near and far: Parthia. Mede. Elam. Mesopotamia, Judea, Cappadocia. Asia. As far away as Rome. (Thank you, Gary, for reading all of those names.) Jerusalem swelled with diverse people on that day.  People who spoke many different languages. Who looked very different, one from the other.

And, then, they heard the sound. A tornadic sound. A sound so loud and violent that they rushed to see what was happening. When they arrived, not only did they see tongues of fire dancing on the heads of Jesus’ followers, but, incredibly, they began to hear the disciples speaking in their own languages. Breaking down the barriers between them.

Breaking down the barriers. Isn’t that what Jesus would have done had he been there? WWJD? What would Jesus do? Exactly what Jesus’ Spirit was doing. Breaking down the barriers.

I had a troubling conversation on Friday. 

Some of you may know that in December, after the tornadoes hit the western part of our state, the Bishop asked me to be one of two disaster coordinators - a co-coordinator - in our synod. When the Bishop asks…well, you know the drill. It’s pretty impossible to say no. 

So, I’ve been working with a colleague - Pastor Grace Pardun-Alworth, who serves St. Matthew’s in Paducah. Interestingly, she and I were classmates at Luther Seminary. 

On Friday morning, we were on a video call with the director of case management for Catholic Charities, based in Owensboro. Also on the call with us were each of the lead case managers assigned to work in the 16 counties that have been declared disaster areas. The director told us about some of the conversations she’d been having with volunteers coming in from churches and faith-based organizations from across the region - coming to help with the rebuilding process, now in its very early stages. 

She shared that some of these conversations have been very difficult. That when some of the volunteers hear that they’re being assigned to help rebuild a home for some who is gay. Or lesbian. Or undocumented. These Christian volunteers refuse to help them and ask to be reassigned somewhere else. Because, after all, you know God doesn’t like these kinds of people.

How small we make God! 

Father Greg Boyle, who I’ve mentioned before - he’s a Jesuit priest who works in the heart of east Los Angeles - says that “God’s dream come true is a sense of kinship and connection, that everybody would enter into a kind of exquisite mutuality with each other.” 

We need to break out of the kind of God that’s so tiny. And that’s a mirror image of ourselves. We know that we’ve created God in our own image when we discover that God hates the same people we do.

This is the disruptive and transformational work of the Holy Spirit. When we say, “God, it’s not about me, but about you” God says, “It’s not about me, it’s about you.” It’s about a compassion for the other that stands in awe of all that people have to carry rather than living in judgment of them. Awe is where God wants us to be. To honor others. To move past barriers rather than judging them and distancing ourselves from them. 

It’s about kinship. Kinship and connection. That’s really what the kingdom of God is about. Kinship. Because, the natural by-product of kinship is peace and justice. After all, it’s really hard to demonize someone you know.

Isn’t that Paul’s message, too? A message of gentleness. Gentleness here, which means a willingness to submit to injustice. To risk maltreatment. To break down barriers in order to move in closer so that we might, through the transformational power of the Holy Spirit, build kinship and connection. (Doesn’t that sound just like the “mind of Christ” we heard about last week in Philippians 3?) 

We love because God first loved us. That’s God’s hope. That’s the only kind of praise God is interested in.

So, on this Pentecost day, as we are soon to witness Lorelei affirming her baptism - may we reaffirm ours, as well: to live among God’s faithful people, to hear the word of God and share in the Lord’s supper, to proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed, to serve all people, following the example of Jesus, and to strive for justice and peace in all the earth. Amen.

Preached June 5, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville, and New Goshen Presbyterian, Prospect.

Day of Pentecost

Readings: Acts 2:1-21, Philippians 4:4-8, John 14:16-17

The Power of God's Love: Many Gifts, One Spirit

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.Amen.

It’s been a hard week. As it began, we first witnessed the hanging in effigy - on Memorial Day - of our governor, a racist practice used to stir up images of lynching and to stoke fear. Then, on the same day, George Floyd, a black man in Minneapolis, was murdered by police, calling for his dead mother. And crying, “I can’t breathe!” On Tuesday, we learned that the Justice Department is investigating the death of another black man, Ahmaud Arbury, shot down execution-style as he was jogging through his neighborhood in suburban Atlanta. On Wednesday, we learned that we had topped 100,000 deaths from COVID-19 here in the U.S., with a recognition that people of color are dying at four times the rate of white people. On that same day the 911 tape became public from the death of Breona Taylor - an black EMT shot by Louisville police entering her apartment using a no-knock warrant with no identification or warning. And we heard the cries of her boyfriend, “I don’t know what’s happening. Somebody kicked in the door and shot my girlfriend.” Then, on Thursday, as we began to see the aftermath of the uprising in Minneapolis and watched it expand throughout the country, we heard these words over and over again: “No justice, no peace!” On Friday, we turned on the news to hear of more uprising throughout our country, as well as news that another 2.1 million jobs have been lost, bringing the total to almost 41 million people out of work. And then yesterday, after days of businesses opening up, we hear that coronavirus cases are spiking once again.

It’s been a hard week. And if we’ve been able to simply turn off our television or radio or ignore this on our smartphones or computers because it has simply been too much to take, then I wonder what it must feel like for those who can’t escape it. For those who have suffered for days and weeks, and months and years, and decades and centuries. And who continue to suffer. 

It’s hard to find words today. Yet, on this Pentecost Sunday, I’m reminded of the words in Romans 8, that the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.

So, I sigh. And I pray that God, who searches my heart, knows, and that God’s will may come to you today in the few words I do have...

We are in two places in our readings today. We’ll begin in Corinth, because this is where we’ve been for the past few weeks. We know of the divisions in the church there - divisions that boil down to status - the belief that certain people are better than others. It’s this context where Paul writes these words in 1st Corinthians 12.

Brothers and sisters, I don’t want you to be ignorant about spiritual gifts. You know that when you were Gentiles you were often misled by false gods that can’t even speak. So I want to make it clear to you that no one says, “Jesus is cursed!” when speaking by God’s Spirit, and no one can say, “Jesus is Lord,” except by the Holy Spirit. There are different spiritual gifts but the same Spirit; and there are different ministries and the same Lord; and there are different activities but the same God who produces all of them in everyone. A demonstration of the Spirit is given to each person for the common good. A word of wisdom is given by the Spirit to one person, a word of knowledge to another according to the same Spirit, faith to still another by the same Spirit, gifts of healing to another in the one Spirit, performance of miracles to another, prophecy to another, the ability to tell spirits apart to another, different kinds of tongues to another, and the interpretation of the tongues to another. All these things are produced by the one and same Spirit who gives what he wants to each person.

Christ is just like the human body—a body is a unit and has many parts; and all the parts of the body are one body, even though there are many. We were all baptized by one Spirit into one body, whether Jew or Greek, or slave or free, and we all were given one Spirit to drink. --1 Corinthians 12:1-13 (CEB)

One of the problems in Corinth was that those who had been given the spiritual gift of speaking in tongues believed that their gift was better than all the others. By all accounts, the church in Corinth had been given a very full measure of the Spirit’s power. So, Paul sets about teaching them how they might discern God’s work in the activity of these many gifts. And, also, how they might value their brothers and sisters in Christ across that variety of gifts.

Or how they might discern what God is up to or what God may be doing in this place. Questions that we might, particularly, be asking at this time.

To begin with, Paul says that through God’s Spirit, God first bears witness to Jesus as Lord. One way to know whether a movement is led by the Spirit is to listen for its claims about Jesus Christ. Through the Spirit, we know Jesus on the cross, in the Lord’s supper, and in the resurrection. Through the Spirit, the church testifies that Jesus - not money, or security, or self esteem, or paranoia, or power, or anything else, but Jesus - is Lord. Gifts that come from the Spirit proclaim Jesus as Lord. 

They also serve the common good. This is Paul’s second criteria. Do our gifts serve the common good - our common life together, not only in the church, but in the world? The Spirit is all about building up the group rather than enriching individuals. While we each may receive gifts from the Spirit, they are to be used for the body as a whole. If not, or if they can’t be shared, then they are not from the Spirit. And, as was happening in Corinth, to rank one’s gift as better than the other is completely odds with the purpose of each gift, which is given for the good of all.

The third point that Paul makes is that, whatever God’s Spirit is doing, it will probably not be characterized by tidiness. Wherever we find the Spirit’s gifts, it will be messy. What Paul noticed in the Corinthian church is that they were enthusiastic about the more dramatic manifestations of the Spirit’s work, such as speaking in tongues, prophesying, or healing. They ignored the quieter work of the Spirit which is to draw them into a community that respects all of its members. Paul is trying to redirect some of their enthusiasm to the more excellent way of faith, hope, and, especially, love, so that they will return to valuing one another more than themselves and their own gifts. That brother or sister in Christ matters more than all of the spiritual gifts in the congregation, according to Paul. And this will be messy. But, Paul’s goal is not a neat and tidy life in community, but a loving one.

These are the criteria for discerning the work of the Holy Spirit among us. The Spirit proclaims Jesus as Lord. Offers its gifts to the church for the common good. And activates love for neighbor in all of the messiness it may bring. 

Now let’s go back in time a little to Acts and the first outpouring of the Spirit. We read from Acts 2:

When Pentecost Day arrived, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound from heaven like the howling of a fierce wind filled the entire house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be individual flames of fire alighting on each one of them. They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages as the Spirit enabled them to speak. --Acts 2:1-4 (CEB)

The disciples are gathered together in one house, devoting themselves to prayer, and waiting for the arrival of the promised Advocate. 

The future for them is uncertain. Jesus is no longer physically with them, but they wait. And hope. And trust. And, after these past few months, perhaps we, too, can relate. 

And then these signs of the Holy Spirit - fire and wind - descend on them and the Spirit pushes them out of the safety of the room in which they have been staying.

Fire and wind are powerful symbols. They have the potential both for creation and for destruction. Perhaps they are appropriate symbols for the work of the Spirit in this moment. As we wait in the wreckage of what was or what is coming, as we wait for the birth of what will be, we are called to see visions and to dream dreams. 

We might ask of ourselves what of our old lives, both personally and communally, needs to be burned away? What needs to be renewed? Will we allow the fire of pandemic and uprising to burn away the economic inequality and racial inequity that has led to so much unnecessary and unjust loss of life? Will we allow the fire to burn away mass incarceration and an industrial system that has served no one well? Will we allow the fire to burn away an economic system where too many workers are considered “essential” but are not compensated fairly for their work? Will we allow the fire to burn away the idea that equal access to health care is not a human right?

Yet as the Spirit fire burns and winnows, as the Spirit wind tears down and destroys, we know that the Spirit creates. We have seen unprecedented cooperation between scientists and researchers all over the world. We have seen healthcare workers and many others work in sacrificial ways to save lives. We have seen white people stand as allies with their black and brown sisters and brothers. We have seen people of faith reaching out in our neighborhoods in creative and caring ways. We have seen the face of the earth and the sky renewed. 

So, what needs to be burned away in our personal and communal lives in this time? What needs to be renewed? Or, in our language of worship, of what do we need to repent? And in what ways do we need to witness to the life-giving work of God in Jesus Christ? 

We have been given gifts to discern the answers to these questions. We have been given gifts to help us seek the guidance of the Holy Spirit. We have been given gifts to witness that Jesus. Is. Lord. In our homes. In our church. And where it is needed right now the most, in our world. 

So, come, Holy Spirit. Burn, blow, breathe, move upon us all. That earth and all that’s in it may thrive. That earth and all that’s in it may love. That earth and all that’s in it may live in the harmony and wholeness you desire for us, for people of every color, and for all of creation. Come, Holy Spirit. Come.

Preached online June 7, 2020, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Day of Pentecost

Readings: Acts 2:1-4; 1 Corinthians 12:1-13; Mark 1:4-8; Psalm 104:24-34, 35b 

Gifts of God's Grace: The Promise of the Holy Spirit

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. Acts 2:1-4 NRSV

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

The Holy Spirit. Ah, the Holy Spirit. The one person of the Godhead that scares us the most. For us Lutherans, who have grown up in a theology that is so rational...that can seem more of a “head” theology than a “heart” theology...a tradition that for centuries disavowed glossolalia - speaking in tongues that is, in the Pentecostal tradition, a true mark of the presence of the Spirit in one’s life... 
For us Lutherans, I think the idea of the Spirit - this uncontrollable person of the Trinity that flits and floats freely and that can push us into seemingly irrational thought and action... For many of us Lutherans, I think the Holy Spirit scares the living daylights out of us!

So, today, let’s dig into the Holy Spirit on this Pentecost Sunday. And, more specifically, let's look at work of the Holy Spirit, using Paul’s text from Romans as a guide. A text I might add is an important and weighty text for our understanding and a text from which we often hear snippets - phrases that will seem very familiar to you, but that allow for us to look at it as an entire section. So, today, we'll study Romans 8 to help us more fully understand the work of the Spirit, that manifests itself in three ways. First, that the gift of the spirit marks the beginning of Christian life. Secondly, that the Holy Spirit is the power of new life. And, finally, that the Spirit works through us, not only as individuals, but particularly as a community.

Romans 8:18-25. It is the gift of the Holy Spirit that marks the beginning of the Christian life.

For the early church, those 120 plus men and women gathered on that first Pentecost who witnessed the first outpouring of the Spirit - Christ’s own Spirit that had been promised to them. When they witnessed this first outpouring, they knew that this was a moment in time when their Christian faith had fully begun. Although they may not have initially understood it, they eventually recognized that this free dispensing of the Holy Spirit on them and those baptized that first day marked a new age. The beginning of the end. The beginning of the last days. This time in between Christ’s first coming to earth and Christ’s second coming. The time in which we also live.

In Paul’s writing, the gift of the Spirit is likewise the beginning of the Christian experience. It is another way to describe our new justified relationship with God. It gives us a new sense of our own identity as adopted daughters and sons of God. In the Greek, the word used is one that marks a profound existential change in relationship. It means that, as God’s adopted children, we are heirs. Just as Daniel, who is celebrating his first communion today, has been adopted through the power of the Spirit in his baptism, so, too, you and I have been adopted.

This notion of adoption and inheritance was a profound message in Paul’s day. Much more profound, perhaps, than for us today. Because very few people had means to pass on. Very few people came from families with means to pass on. To be heir meant you had a future. It might be a future that required your patience and that required waiting. But, it meant you had a future. And, thus, hope.

So, with the early church, we wait. With patience. And with hope. Even in the midst of our suffering and weakness.

Romans 8:28-30.  Second point. The Spirit is the power of our new life in Christ.

The gift of the Spirit is a beginning of our final fulfillment as Christians - the first installment of a life-long process of transformation into the image of Christ. A process, called sanctification, that achieves its end in the resurrection of our bodies. It’s like that first downpayment on a new car. Or a new house. It’s the first step in a months-long or years-long process of purchasing that new vehicle or home. Reaching the point where it is finally ours. And we are fully free.

It is in this first downpayment of the Spirit where God begins to work and to build God’s claim on our whole being. Step by step, even in times of sorrow and struggle, when we no longer have even the words to pray. In contrast with the believers on that first Pentecost who were given the gift of communication, even when we have reached the point where we no longer have words to describe our sorrow and suffering, it is the Spirit who steps in. Who intercedes for us. Who prays for us. Who sighs for us. And whom God hears. For us.

Because God has called us through the Spirit. And, so, life then for us becomes a daily walking in our baptism. Responding to that claim of the Spirit on us. Lives that are given new power in the Spirit to more fully live into God’s claim on us. 

But, lives that are also lived in tension and conflict. Between the old and the new. Between the flesh and the spirit. Between saint and sinner. It is in this tension where God’s grace comes to its fullest expression. In our weakness. Because it was in Jesus’ weakness, in Jesus’ death, where God’s grace became real. Where death did not define the future. But, resurrection did. Life did. And so, for us, too, in our weakness, God’s grace is expressed most fully. It is the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus who has freed us and who empowers us to live fully into our identity as adopted children of God and heirs of God’s kingdom.

Romans 8:31-39. Finally, it is the Spirit that is experienced by all and works through all, in the love of God in Christ Jesus. 

For Paul, this idea of the Spirit being experienced by and working through the community was paramount. This community, which Paul called koinonia, was one of common participation where the Spirit worked to form a group of unique and diverse individuals into one body. Where, each of us allows the Holy Spirit to work on our hearts and to come to its fullest expression in what we say and do. Where we are formed into one body. Not that we should be alike. But that we, in all of our diversity, find our unity in Christ. And where we grow in the knowledge and understanding of Christ. Living together in honesty and authenticity. With no weak links in our community because through the power of the Spirit, we work to lift everyone up. Testing every word and deed that claims to be authorized by the Spirit with the standard that is Jesus Christ. The standard of love.

Because, isn’t that why we come here every week? To experience Christ’s love for us? This love that has the power to transform us, not only as individuals, but, particularly as a community. A community that is bound together in the love of Christ. A community that, through Christ love, is bound to God. And a community that will never be separated from the love of God in Christ.


This is the work of the Spirit. It is God’s love poured out for us in the Spirit that marks the beginning of our new life in Christ, that gives us the power to live more fully into this new life, and that forms and shapes us into a community of love. To live into a different vision for the future. Into God’s vision for the future. A vision characterized by God’s love in Christ Jesus. And a love from which nothing can ever separate us.

Neither death. Nor life. Nor angels. Nor rulers. Nor things present. Nor things to come. Nor powers. Nor height. Nor depth. Nor anything else in all creation. Will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. (Rom. 8:38-39)

We give thanks for the gift of the Holy Spirit. May we continue to live into God's love and be the loving people God is making us to be. Amen.

Preached Sunday, June 9th, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Day of Pentecost
Readings: Acts 2:1-4, Romans 8:18-39; Matthew 28:16-20.

Unexpected

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”

But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

‘In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
    and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
    and your old men shall dream dreams.
Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
    in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
        and they shall prophesy.
And I will show portents in the heaven above
    and signs on the earth below,
        blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
The sun shall be turned to darkness
    and the moon to blood,
        before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ Acts 2:1-21 (NRSV)


Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Alright! It’s time to be honest. Who watched the wedding yesterday morning? Who got up early and watched the wedding live of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle? Come on! I know some of you must have. I did. I am a huge fan of British culture and history, thanks in large part to Downton Abbey.

It was a beautiful occasion, wasn’t it. (All weddings are beautiful, aren’t they?) Her dress was beautiful in its simplicity and sophistication. Ms. Markle wore the tiara originally made for Queen Mary in 1919. She wore a veil that was 16 feet long and that was trimmed in hand-embroidered flowers representing each of the 53 countries of the Commonwealth. She was stunning. And, Prince Harry looked dashing in his military uniform, the Blues and Royals of the Household Cavalry, the arm of the British service in which he served for 10 years--a period of service that included a tour of duty in Afghanistan. And the children--the little sons and daughters of the royal family who acted as page boys and bridesmaids. Well, they were just adorable. It was a wonderful, royal wedding--with all of the pomp and circumstance and tradition we have come to expect from the British royal family.

This one, though...this one felt a little different. A little more unique than most. Even some of the commentators picked up on this, remarking that this wedding in particular seemed to move the royal family just a little further into modernity.

What was it that felt so different? Well, to begin with Meghan Markle is an American. Then, it’s hard to miss the fact that she is bi-racial--the daughter of a white man and a black woman. Throughout the wedding, there were things that showed us who she was. Her solo walk up half of the center aisle. The exchange of two rings, one for the bride and one for the groom--unlike the usual royal tradition of a ring only for the bride. Then, in addition to the usual Anglican boys' choir, there was also a Gospel choir, singing “Stand By Me” and “This Little Light of Mine.” Finally, the address was spoken by Bishop Michael Curry, the presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church here in the United States. And his wasn’t any ordinary, royal wedding address. Quoting Martin Luther, he spoke passionately about the Power of Love, in the style of African-American prophetic preaching, growing more and more excited and, even, going a little longer than he was supposed to go.

One can only wonder what it must have felt like to be sitting there, sensing something new and different happening. One can only wonder how we might have reacted to this new and different wedding, this blend of cultures. This beautiful blend of diverse culture. This royal wedding, unlike all of the rest, because of a new and different and wonderful diversity. One can only wonder. 

Just like one can only wonder what it might have felt like to be at the first Pentecost, so very long ago.

All of the disciples had gathered together that day--all 120 of them. Men and women. They had come together because thousands of Jews from across the region had also gathered in Jerusalem to celebrate Shavu’ot, or the Festival of Weeks--one of three major annual Jewish festivals. In Greek, Shavu’ot was known as Pentecost, because it came 50 days after Passover. 

Legend had it that 50 days after that first Passover--after the Jews were freed from slavery in Egypt--they camped at Mount Sinai, where Moses received the Torah, or the Instruction, from God on Mount Sinai. Passover had freed the Jews physically from bondage in Egypt. But it was Pentecost that gave the Jews spiritual freedom, a freedom from bondage to idolatry and immortality, a freedom given in the Torah and, as part of it, the Ten Commandments. 

So, as the disciples gathered on that festival day, one can only wonder what they must have been thinking. Or talking about. Jesus had risen from the dead some 50 days before. And only 10 days ago, Jesus had ascended into heaven. He had gone away. He had left them physically. No longer present in their lives. Or so it must have felt.

Jesus had promised to send the Holy Spirit. To send an Advocate. A Comforter. “And I will ask the Father,” he had spoken to them. “And he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees her or knows her. You know her, because she abides with you, and she will be in you.” 

Jesus had promised. But, they had no idea when this would happen. Or, even, if it would happen. 

Do you ever doubt God? Do you ever doubt that God will keep God’s promises? We, who live some 2 millennia after Christ, who long for the fullness, for the wholeness, for the shalom of God’s kingdom in the midst of a world that often seems dark and that often seems to be crumbling around us. A world where children aren’t safe in school, where refugees and immigrants are rejected at the border, or separated from their children. A world that seems to be in a state of despair, that seeks to mask its pain in drugs or alcohol or anything else that will keep us from feeling this darkness. A world that seems to be growing further and further away from God. And from the church.

Do you ever doubt that God will keep God’s promises? Do you worry, just like the disciples must have worried as they gathered together that day?


And, then, they heard it!!! The roar that sounded like a rush of violent wind. It filled the house. And, then, the divided tongues that looked like fire. Fire, that ever refining agent, that purifying element that whooshed in as one large mass of flame and then divided into 120 individual tongues resting on each of the disciples. And, then, filled with the Holy Spirit, the languages that came out of their mouths. Diverse languages. Languages from all of the lands to which the Jews had dispersed. Languages that represented the diversity of all those who had gathered that day in Jerusalem. Language that, through the power of the Holy Spirit, reached each and every person where they were. Unexpectedly.

Because, that is what the Holy Spirit does. Unexpectedly shows up exactly where we are. In the midst of our worry. In the midst of our broken world. In the midst of our messy lives, she shows up and begins to do her work. Unexpectedly.

Just as the Spirit comes unexpectedly and continues to surprise us, I have a surprise for you, too. I would invite you to look under your seat to see if anything is taped there. If so, then you get to be the reader of a second lesson for us to consider today. (And, if you don’t want to read it, you can pass it to someone near you who is more comfortable reading it out loud.)

Over these past few weeks, we’ve been reading select portions of Paul’s letter to the church in Philippi. What we are about to hear are the closing words to Paul’s letter. At the time he wrote this letter, Paul was in prison in Rome. One can only wonder what he must have had to worry about. Whether he might see them again. Whether he might ever be freed? Whether he might be martyred as many of the disciples would be? There would have been much for him to worry about. Yet, let us hear the words that Paul wrote to them. 

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:4-7 (NRSV)

Sisters and brothers, what are you worried about? What troubles you today? Take out that square of paper I mentioned at the beginning of worship. Write down on it what has you worried. We will turn those worries over to God in prayer. Then, write what you might find to rejoice in this week. 

The Holy Spirit continues to show up in the most unexpected ways in our lives and in our world. She keeps us with Christ in faith. She offers renewal. She offers re-creation. She seeks to heal each of us and to bring us together to do the work of building God’s kingdom, a kingdom where there are no more worries, no more divisions, no more barriers of class, gender or age. A kingdom that might look more like what we saw in yesterday’s royal wedding--a world of inclusiveness. A world of unity in all its diversity. A world redeemed by the power of the Holy Spirit. A world with something truly to rejoice about!

And, now, may the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Preached May 20, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY
Readings: John 14:16-17
Pentecost

Not the Same Anymore: The Power of the Spirit

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”

But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

‘In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
    and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
    and your old men shall dream dreams.
Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
    in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
        and they shall prophesy.
And I will show portents in the heaven above
    and signs on the earth below,
        blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
The sun shall be turned to darkness
    and the moon to blood,
        before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ Acts 2:1-21 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from our risen and ascended Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Last December, before I was called here to Grace and Glory, I came for the weekend, if you recall, to interview with the council and also to meet all of you.

The weekend I came it was particularly chilly, in the high 20s. There was also a pretty brisk wind, which drove the temperature down to a windchill in the mid-teens. It led to a conversation with one of the council about how much wind there was in Kentucky.

Now, I recognize that I have not been here for very long. And, since I’ve lived here, I have definitely experienced some windy days. But, I have to say, that, up to this point, when it comes to wind. Kentucky just doesn’t compare to my home state of South Dakota. You really can’t claim to know wind until you’ve lived west of the Missouri River in South Dakota.

Growing up on the plains, wind was an everyday experience for us. A good wind day meant that there were gentle breezes in the 10-12 mph category. A bad wind day meant that those gentle breezes turned into gale force winds, in the 50-60 mph category, sometimes even higher. 

In the winter, wind chill temperatures were brutal. Spring and fall were always gusty, blowing leaves and dust everywhere. And, in the summer--well, in the summer, afternoon winds almost always blew in a thunderstorm.

The days that were good wind days--well, they were magnificent. I can still remember, as a little girl, walking in our pastures in the summertime, feeling the gentle breeze that just seemed to lift the air up, especially on days that could be hot and humid.

I also remember the smells they brought to me, especially the wonderful smell of prairie grasses to my nose (I wonder if bluegrass has a similar smell!). It was a sweet, rather exotic smell that, if close my eyes right now, I can still smell it in my imagination.

It was there, in our pasture filled with prairie grasses, tickled with gentle breezes, that I think I first experienced a sense of oneness with God and all creation. Thinking about those experiences today takes me to the same sense of deep peace that I felt as a child.

Yet, that same gentle breeze can turn into something that feels unexpected or risky or even terrifying, can’t it? I’ve experienced this sense many times throughout my life. I’m thinking you have, too. I’ve had experiences with tornadoes, eyeing a few that have come dangerously close, praying that they would switch direction. Or driving 200 miles in the midst of a winder blizzard, guiding my mother as she drove in near-zero visibility by opening my door ever so slightly to watch the lines painted on the highway.

As an adult,  I’ve stood close to the edges of cliffs as a hard wind blew off the ocean, risking a fall as I leaned into it, knowing fully that if it should stop suddenly, I might easily go over the edge. Or even flying kites over the years with my son, confident in my own abilities until suddenly, with little warning, the wind would send my kite crashing to the ground.

I feel intimately acquainted with the wind. 

So, imagine my delight when, in my first years of seminary, I learned that the word in scripture used for the Spirit means wind and, more specifically, breath of God.  It seemed fitting somehow.  That the Holy Spirit--this mysterious third person of the Godhead, this unseen presence sent by God into the world that appears in the most unexpected places, this Comforter that both reminds us of what God has said and continues to teach us about God, this Advocate through whom God has claimed us as God’s own and has formed us into the body of Christ--well, it seems only fitting that this Holy Spirit should be characterized as wind.  That natural, contradictory, unexpected force that, for me, can mean both deep peace and unexpected danger or risk.  As John writes in the third chapter of his gospel, “God’s Spirit blows wherever it wishes.  You hear her sound, but you don’t know where she comes from or where she is going.”

Perhaps that is what is most unsettling about the Holy Spirit.  It seems fairly easy to understand and categorize God the Father as creator and loving parent.  It seems easier to understand and categorize God the Son as redeemer and savior of the world.   

But, it is really hard to easily understand and categorize the Holy Spirit, isn’t it?  This Being who works in the water of baptism and the bread and wine of Holy Communion to bring us to faith, to forgive our sin, and to bring us into community with one another.  This Breath who speaks through the words of Scripture to us in our own language to further reveal to us who God is.  This Person who shows up when we least expect her and most need her through the kind words of a stranger, the supportive presence of a faith community, or the challenge of a close friend.  This Unseen Force who nudges us to act as we seek to “walk our talk” in our daily lives instead of just on Sunday mornings.  And this being, who works in our hearts and in our lives, broken as we are, and is continually creating and re-creating us more deeply into the people who God wants us to be. This Spirit Wind who, in one moment, carries us peacefully like a kite in the blue sky and who, in the very next moment, pushes us forward into new and sometimes terrifying places. Who continues to weave new life throughout the fabric of our lives and our world and all creation to renew the face of the whole earth.

This is the Holy Spirit.

And we are all her children.  Children of the Wind. Children of the Holy Spirit.  

So, let us pray then. Using the words of contemporary theologian, Walter Brueggeman, let us pray that the Holy Spirit might continue to come--to work in us and in our world. In this time of the Spirit, let us pray that she might continue to transform us, our church, our community and all creation.  So that all people might come to know and praise the goodness and love of our God, who comes to us through the Spirit in both ordinary and unexpected ways.

Let us pray:

We name you wind, power, force, and then,
    imaginatively, "Third Person."
We name you and you blow...
    blow hard,
    blow cold,
    blow hot,
    blow strong,
    blow gentle,
    blow new...
Blowing the world out of nothing to abundance,
blowing the church out of despair to new life,
blowing little David from shepherd boy to messiah,
blowing to make things new that never were.
    So blow this day, wind,
        blow here and there, power,
        blow even us, force,
Rush us beyond ourselves,
Rush us beyond our hopes,
Rush us beyond our fears, until we enact your newness in the world.
    Come, come spirit.  Amen.

Preached June 4, 2017, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Day of Pentecost
Readings: Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104:24-34, 35b; 1 Corinthians 12:3b-13; John 20:19-23.

Not the Same Anymore: Rethinking What Happened

But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, "Therefore let the entire house of Israel know with certainty that God has made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified.”

Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and to the other apostles, “Brothers, what should we do?” Peter said to them, “Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him.” And he testified with many other arguments and exhorted them, saying, “Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.” So those who welcomed his message were baptized, and that day about three thousand persons were added. (Acts 2:14a, 36-41 NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from God, our Father, and from our resurrected Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

I think most of you know that I’ve lived in a few different places. When I was 19 years old I moved from rural, West River South Dakota to the Los Angeles-Orange County metropolitan area. In looking back as an older and more mature adult (cough! cough!) I realize what a huge cultural shift that was for me at the time. 

But I didn’t really recognize it then. I was so focused on figuring out what life looked like from day-to-day, that I didn’t really have the perspective I do now.

I lived in that area for just over 30 years. I was surrounded there by my entire immediate family--my mother, my brother, and my sister--and by a number of extended family. Over time, through either move or death, by 2008, which was the year my sister died, I was the only remaining member of my immediate family in Southern California.

It was after her death, that I began to feel a pull to move to Texas, to be reunited and to live in closer proximity to my brother and sister-in-law and their family, who had moved to Austin, Texas, some 15 years earlier.

It was quite a coincidence then, a year and a half later, that the organization I worked for announced that they were looking for someone to move to Texas to head up a new organization there. And, so, in the summer of 2010, I moved to Austin, Texas. In the three years I lived there, I was able to renew what had been a very close relationship. And, I was also able to regain another sister in my relationship with my sister-in-law, a relationship that so helped to fill the deep void left in my life left by my own sister’s death.

While I was going through all of this--the move, the re-establishing of relationships--I wasn’t really aware of why I was doing this. It was only in hindsight, that, as with my original move to California, I gained the full perspective of what was happening in my life and why. 

Has that ever happened to you? I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase, “Hindsight is 20/20.” Right? Sometimes when we’re in the midst of things that happen in our lives--both good and bad--we don’t fully understand everything that was happening until we are able, often with the help of friends and family, to gain a full perspective of what was happening and why. To rethink what happened.

Rethinking what happened. That is what is happening in both our Acts and our Luke lessons today. In both stories, someone is helping others rethink what happened. 

In the Luke story, the story of the two disciples on their way to Emmaus, some seven miles from Jerusalem. In that story, it is Jesus who helps them connect the dots. Who points out everything in the Hebrew scripture that refers to him. Who helps them understand. Who helps them rethink what happened. 

And, then, in the Acts lesson, which is the second half of Peter’s sermon on Pentecost. (We heard the first half last week.) It is in this sermon that Peter is the one, filled with the Holy Spirit, who connects the dots for the people of God gathered there. Those people of God, part of the Jewish diaspora, who have so acclimated to their new homelands that they have forgotten their mother tongue. Who are only able to understand because the Spirit has had to engage in a linguistic miracle that allows the disciples to preach to them in the language of their newly-adopted countries. It is the Spirit-filled Peter who helps them understand. It is Peter who helps them rethink what happened.

This is what Peter means when, after he repeatedly appeals to them to see what has happened and why it has happened, he says to them, “Repent.” Here, repentance isn’t simply about a changed behavior or a confession. At its root, it refers to a changed mind. It means embracing a new way of understanding something. Peter is telling those gathered to recognize that God is at work in Jesus Christ. And, therefore, to recognize the authority of Jesus to announce and to put in place God’s salvation. “Rethink what happened,” Peter is saying to them, “And then, imagine new possibilities in what God continues to do.”

This is nearly the same thing that Peter is saying to them when he urges them to be saved “from this corrupt generation.” In the Gospel of Luke, written by the same person who wrote Acts, Jesus speaks of a similar generation and emphasizes its condition, which is an inability to perceive God’s activity.  It is a condition that exists with us today--the inability and the unwillingness to move from our ignorance about what God has done to embracing God’s faithfulness, which is shown in Jesus Christ and is further evidenced in the arrival of the Holy Spirit. 

That is repentance. That is rethinking what happened. That is seeing, through the gift of the Holy Spirit, God’s salvation coming into our world.  It is God, in God’s faithfulness, breaking into our world and disrupting “business as usual.” So that nothing is the same anymore. 

It’s hindsight, really. The same hindsight that my friends and family helped me with--to see God’s hand at work in my own life.  It’s hindsight that comes through the Holy Spirit, who works through those who surround us. And who leads us to see God breaking into our lives and our world, disrupting the dark things. Who leads us to repentance--to changing our minds and coming to a new way of understanding--an understanding of God at work through Jesus Christ. 

And, finally, It’s the Holy Spirit who once again affirms for us God’s faithfulness. That our God is a God we can trust. That God’s disruptive activity is good. And that God’s promises are available for us. That not only were they available then for the assembled people of God. But they are here for us, too. Now.

Notice Peter’s statement near the end of this passage:  “The promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls.” The promise belongs to Peter’s Jewish audience. It belongs to his audience’s offspring. It belongs to those not yet born. It belongs to us. Here and now. 

It is the promise we heard on Easter Sunday. It is the promise Jesus helps the Emmaus disciples understand.  It is the promise we receive when we repent, when we rethink what happened. It is the promise of God’s salvation. For those who heard Peter that day. For us today. And for all whom God calls.

The promise of God’s salvation. What does that salvation look like? Well, that’s for us to explore next week.

For today, though, we give thanks. We give thanks that God is a disruptive and intrusive God. That when God breaks in, nothing is the same anymore. That through the power of the Holy Spirit we are able to rethink what happened and to see our faithful God at work in our lives and in the world.

Thanks be to God! 

Amen.

Preached April 30, 2017, at Grace and Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Third Sunday of Easter
Readings: Acts 2:14a, 36-41; Psalm 116:1-4, 12-19; 1 Peter 1:17-23; Luke 24:13-35

With gratitude to Matthew Skinner's Intrusive God, Disruptive Gospel: Encountering the Divine in the Book of Acts.