Sacred Disturbance

Acts 2:1-12

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 people 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?”

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Introduction

The disciples find themselves gathered in one place. And then, suddenly, there is a sacred disruption. Like a violent wind, the Holy Spirit fills the house, and what appears to be tongues of fire settle on those gathered. This dramatic encounter with the Holy Spirit in Acts is what we today call Pentecost, the birth of the church. As with most births, there are a handful of truths (most of them I cannot fully relate to due to my biology): it's uncomfortable/ painful, movement from one place to another, and the start of a new story that starts with a sacred disturbance. 

Birthing A New Thing

The Spirit of God continues to bring about newness. God's Spirit hovered over the formless creation in Genesis and created the new world and heaven. God's Spirit blew back the waters of the seas to let God's people go free from Egypt. And it was God's Spirit that descended on the disciples at Pentecost, granting them a new vision of life together. All of this was God's doing, and God's Spirit continues to do new things in our midst (in a world where we are tired, weary, and sometimes hopeless). The mothering Spirit of God at Pentecost reminds us of the power of a mother's love and care and what they will endure to bring forth a new thing.

And like a mother, the Spirit of God doesn't wish that we stay tucked away in one place for our entire life (especially our spiritual lives). So there comes a moment when we are given a subtle or not-so-subtle indication that it is time to go and leave the comfort of the space we've come to know and hold close to our hearts. 

Moving To A New Place

God didn’t call the disciples to go to places they thought were comfortable. God didn’t call the disciples to be arrogant or angry. God didn’t call the disciples to only care for those like them. No, God called them to go to places where God’s own heart hurts the most. God called them to go and to be with the widows and the orphans, to go and welcome the stranger who came from a foreign land, and to go and to be in the places where there is so much hurt and pain that those who live there are either forgotten about or pushed far off into the extreme margins of our society. Perhaps even more intimidating than all that, God called them to go to the places in their lives (our lives) that needed healing to move us to where God is calling us. 

I asked some folks recently where they saw the Holy Spirit birthing a new thing in their lives or the church's life. Many stories focused on the meaning of re-establishing relationships and the power of bringing fun to worship, communal fellowship, and prayer. In this season of navigating change, in this season of grappling with the losses we've accumulated these past years, the Spirit still makes way for God to bring about a newness that enriches our faith. It is time to heed the call of the Holy Spirit and envision (and then act) what kind of disciple and what kind of church we are called to be in the community we find ourselves in right now.  

A New Church Story

What would it look like for us to rewrite the story of our church today? The crucial part of the tale would not focus on a longing for what was in the church but on what could be if we learned and trusted in the promises of God. Whether we know it or not, the story of our faith is rewritten every day, and it's up to us as to whether we will give into the Spirit's nudge to go outside the walls of the church and live out the meaning of Pentecost. That is the kind of story the Holy Spirit yearns for this season of Pentecost. 

Because if we cannot pray as a church (even praying for those in our faith family), if we cannot muster some ounce of energy to dream of what God can do in our midst, then we need a serious wake-up call. And if we think that numbers (attendance, money, or time) are what will keep us back from writing the new story of the church, well, you better not tell the disciples in Acts because I would guess that they had very little to work with as a new faith community. The cost of birthing the Church into existence was costly love. So for us to co-labor with God for the love of the Church, creation, and one another, can we find the will to add ourselves (no matter what we bring)? 

Conclusion

We aren't always good with disturbances, or maybe I should say we aren't still good at dealing with change that pushes us to go beyond what we have come to know and find comforting and reassuring. Yet we see recurring through Scripture, God reaching out to people no matter where they are and inspiring them to be co-labors and co-participants in the miraculous works of God. So this Pentecost, I pray that you do not lose sight of the grandeur of God:

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
(“God’s Grandeur” by Gerard Manley Hopkins)

We are a part of the world charged with the grandeur of God. And as Hopkins so eloquently captures in his poem, even in the moments where doubt seems to overcome, a new morning breaks with the light of the Spirit of God. May the Holy Spirit this Pentecost speak or breathe into your lives a sacred disturbance that inspires a renewal of faith.