Feast of Pentecost

Acts 2:1-21

 

The Day of Pentecost brings violent wind. Divided tongues of fire. New gifts of language. What is going on in first-century Jerusalem?  What is going on is new life for God’s people.  New life which always involves birth with its attendant chaos and often surprising results. 

 

Many of you have known what it means to wait expectantly for a new baby—whether by childbirth or by adoption—so you are familiar with the process of waiting. What will this new little person look like?  What will his personality be? Will she be quiet and introverted, or chatty and outgoing? What will this new life mean for our family?  When the baby arrives, there is joy, excitement, relief. . .and chaos.  The family expands and turns completely upside down. If this is a first child, there are the adjustments of being parents for the first time. If this child #2 or #3 or #4, there are other adjustments in the family constellation. Schedules must be revised. Bleary-eyed parents wonder if life will ever be calm again.  There may be financial concerns. Yet new life also brings blessings.  Love multiplies into dimensions never imagined. Deeper bonds can develop between parents who learn to work together in new ways. The circle of family widens and extends beyond immediate family—in many cases, to a community of faith that celebrates your child’s life and welcomes them into the family of faith through Holy Baptism. New life is exciting. It is joyful. It re-shapes and re-forms community, even a small community like family.

 

So it is for the new Christian community in Jerusalem at the first Christian Pentecost. Life changes dramatically for Jesus’ disciples. Ten days earlier, Jesus has commanded his disciples to wait in Jerusalem for the Holy Spirit. The disciples aren’t sure who or what the Holy Spirit is, nor what its arrival might bring to them. Yet they are obedient. They walk back to Jerusalem to pray, break bread together, remember Jesus, and wait.  For what, they aren’t exactly sure. But Jesus has promised he would not leave them without a comforter, without power from on high. And they trust Jesus, so they wait.

 

Luke tells us that “when the day of Pentecost had come, they [are] all together in one place.”  Suddenly, a violent wind fills the house. God’s power fills each person in such a way that when they look at each other, it looks like their heads are on fire! In this amazing moment, some discouraged disciples are transformed. Folks who have stammered and denied and doubted their way through the past fifty days—miraculously—now find their voices. They become powerful, eloquent witnesses for the Gospel through the gift of this miraculous power of the Holy Spirit. How can they possible describe such incredible power? Luke attempts it, later, as he writes of “a sound like the rush of a violent wind” that “filled the entire house where they were sitting.” He describes “divided tongues, as of fire” resting on each one of them. He describes the unexpected ability for people of different cultures and nations to understand each other.

 

On this day of Pentecost, there would surely have been lots of people from different cultures and nationalities in Jerusalem. Jewish people from all over the world have gathered in Jerusalem to celebrate the agricultural feast of Pentecost—also called the Feast of Weeks—fifty days after Passover.  There are Parthians, Medes, Elamites. Residents of Mesopotamia, Asia, and other regions. Pilgrims from Egypt, Libya and Rome. Some are Jews. Others are proselytes, according to Luke. And suddenly, with a fierce wind and tongues of fire and chaos, God’s Holy Spirit turns their world upside down. In this new world, folks of every nationality can communicate with one another. Then Peter begins to preach about the ancient prophet Joel. Joel prophesied that in the last days, God will pour the spirit upon all flesh. Joel’s prophecy included apocalyptic images of blood, fire and smoky mist. The sun turned to darkness. The moon to blood. Yet in this Pentecost moment in Jerusalem, we witness a stunning reversal of an ancient prophet’s prediction. Instead of death and destruction, God’s Spirit brings new life. This new Christian community is born. Shaped. Re-formed, into a new and larger image of God’s love.

 

Of course with every new birth comes unexpected learnings. Power shifts. The formation of new family constellations. As we know, whether the new birth is that of a baby, or of a community, the powerful force and energy which creates life is unpredictable.  Despite our best efforts to set schedules for new babies, we knew very well who makes the new schedules.  Despite our best efforts to structure and mold communities of faith, they, too, have a way of developing in unexpected ways.  Or they suddenly shift, then move down paths we had never thought they would go.

 

Of course here in the second chapter of Acts, it is too soon to hear of the growing pains of this new community of faith. But we know that growing pains happen in every community—whether human nuclear family or the family of faith. We can imagine that at some point in time, people looked around and said, “We were better off when Jesus was here. He didn’t do things this way.”  Or we might overhear someone saying, “You know, I liked this group a lot better when I knew the names of all the disciples. Now I don’t know everyone. I think we’ve gotten too big, don’t you?”  And surely in the crowd we would hear someone snort with derision when someone else talks about seeing visions or prophesying or dreaming dreams. Yes, it’s true. Any time the Holy Spirit blows through and sets our heads on fire and turns our lives upside down, stuff happens.  And it is not always the stuff we thought would happen.

When God sends God’s Spirit among us, there is no way on this earth that we will tame it or contain it. The Holy Spirit is a powerful force with which we must reckon if we follow the carpenter from Nazareth. 

 

And there is no telling what might happen to you.  The Holy Spirit might just change you into a priest, pastor and preacher. The Holy Spirit just might tap you on the shoulder and say, “Hey, you could teach Sunday School or help lead the Youth Group.”  The Holy Spirit might send you right up this aisle into the choir.  The power of the Spirit might unexpectedly heal you, or give you the gift of healing. The Spirit might transform you into a leader with gifts to reconcile people in the Church or in the world. With God’s power blowing through our lives, there’s no telling what St. Philip’s Parish, the city of Laurel, the Episcopal Diocese of Washington, the Episcopal Church, the Anglican Church, the world, will look like next month, next year, or in five years.

 

We are already aware of the power of the Holy Spirit in this parish. Last Sunday, Doug Hayes, our Senior Warden, shared about the power. The challenges and difficult task of healing. The transformation of this parish. Many people have worked hard here in the past five years. And yet all that work would have been for nothing had it not been done by God, with God and in God through the power of the Holy Spirit. Sometimes there is chaos and confusion in the community of faith. Sometimes there is deep pain and division. Sometimes you look around your church and you want to weep. You see what looks like a war zone or a desert littered with debris. Like the prophet Ezekiel, you wonder if these bones can live. Yet just when chaos and confusion seem overwhelming, the Holy Spirit blows through, tosses the bones in the air, and miracles of miracles, puts flesh on them. Out of the old bones comes new flesh, new life, new spirit. Out of chaos comes creation of something new. And sometimes, it is not until you let something go and let something die that it is truly reborn—in ways so amazing, you are sorry you did not let go of it sooner.

 

Today, fifty days after the Day of Resurrection, we come to Pentecost. We turn our focus from the life and death of Jesus to the “what next”: what the life and death, resurrection and ascension of the Christ mean in our own lives today. In the here and now. On May 11, 2008, when chaos and confusion, destruction and violence tears at our lives, our Church, our world. We know what the old looked like. What the new will be has not yet been revealed.  So today, on this Day of Pentecost, open yourself to wind and tongues of fire and gifts of language and communion with each other. Open your ears and heart and life to the power of God’s Holy Spirit. And then get ready to be amazed at what happens next. Amen.

 

© The Rev. Sheila N. McJilton

 

Pentecost Icon accessed through Google images: http://www.maronite-heritage.com/assets/images/db_images/db_43-Pentecost1.jpg

Soaring Dove art accessed through Google images: http://www.3dvc.net/images/uploaded/soaring-dove.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

Sad Robin Day

When I looked outside my bathroom window this morning, the robin’s nest looked odd–as if it had melted. Well, in some sense, it did. We have had such heavy, prolonged rain, with some wind, the past several days, I guess the nest just could not take that kind of beating–even in the star magnolia bush. Later today, when skies had cleared a bit–even with some sunshine–I went exploring. I found the sad evidence that Mama Robin’s brood never got to fledge. I know there were three eggs, but if the third is somehow in the nest, it won’t last because I have not seen her all day long.

Mother Nature is not always kind, is she? And I had so anticipated hearing the sounds of new babies in the next week or so.

Consonant Beauty in a Dissonant World

This week has brought news from the Anglican Poo-Bahs across the Pond that +Gene Robinson–already disinvited to pray and learn with his fellow Bishops at Lambeth this sumer–has now been told he may not even act out of his priestly ordination vows. In other words, he may not preach or celebrate anywhere in Merry Olde England during this time.  +Gene, who continues to amaze me with his humility, obedience to the See of Canterbury, and Christ-like love, says he will honor this pronouncement from Rowan Cantuar.  Many of my colleagues have written about this in different weblogs or on other websites, so I will not duplicate what they are saying. You can go to http://episcopalchurch.typepad.com/episcope/  and follow some of the links on the right for your browsing and reading pleasure. Or, if you are like me, for your browsing and reading pain.

I am trying very hard to understand these political machinations of the global Church, I really am. I know that Christian brothers and sisters from both ends of the theological spectrum hold very strong positions on the sexuality and ordination issue.  And far be it from me to suggest that the AB of C has no backbone when it comes to the Global South. I can only hope that there is a political method to his theological madness, as it were, and that when all is said and done, things will turn up “right.”  Since I will never be accused of being “right” in these matters, I wonder.

Jesus of Nazareth left us with two primary commandments: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and mind. Love your neighbor as yourself. Setting aside for the moment that most folks have a hard time loving themselves, and the question might well be asked how they can begin to love their neighbor–setting that business aside, Jesus said we must love the Lord our God. And if we do all we can, every day, to love God, then our focus is on that. And the natural corollary is that we love the creatures and creation that the Lord our God has created. God makes no junk. Of course I have contended for some time that if each one of us would focus on God and our own relationship with God (that relationship being nurtured primarily in prayer), that would, of necessity, bring us closer to each other.

Meanwhile, food costs are rising, gasoline prices are rising, millions of people in war-torn or famine-torn or drought-torn countries try desperately to feed their families on $1.00/day (or less), the United States War Machines trip lightly through billions of our dollars every week, Americans get $300 or $600 from Uncle Sam so that we will indulge our consumer addictions and spend ever more money that takes care of us, and forget our brothers and sisters who need us to preach the Gospel with our lives.  Oh, and in the midst of all that, we in the Anglican Communion are fighting about. . .sexuality?

My colleague Elizabeth Kaeton compares this business with Alice in Wonderland. Well said, sister. You can see it at http://telling-secrets.blogspot.com/  (Tell her I sent you. . .)

Today, I decided I didn’t want to spend my day off in pain or worry, so I enjoyed my day off. I watched Papa Robin take his turn on the nest (note: there are THREE little blue eggs there.)  I had a long lunch with a friend and colleague. I worked part of my lunch off at the gym. I wrote two notes of congratulations to two couples who have just welcomed their first son and first daughter into this world. I had some conversation with the Lion King Baby. And I enjoyed a warm, sunny day and wandered around my yard to take a few pictures. New things bloom every day.

God is in heaven and earth, and sooner or later, all will be whole in God’s kingdom. I don’t know when, but then it isn’t my business to know when. For the time being, my business is to love God and to love my neighbor. May God help me to keep paying attention to beauty in the midst of chaos. May God help me to let God do what God will do, while I discern what part God wants me to play in God’s church. May God bless everybody. No exceptions.

(c) Sheila N. McJilton

Pic of +Gene accessed at: http://www.episcopalchurch.org/images/robinson3_med.jpg

Shhh-Nursery Open

Day before yesterday, I spotted one tiny blue robin egg in the nest outside my window, and then worried about it yesterday, as temps were supposed to drop a lot last night (we just thought it was spring!), and I hadn’t seen Mama Robin there all day.  But this morning, there she was, and she has hardly moved all day long.  So whether there is one egg or several, she is tucked in, keeping her future birdie children warm.  She has shifted positions during the day, sometimes even getting up to perch on the edge of the nest, but other than that, she’s protective.

I did get a picture around lunchtime today, and since I had to take it through both glass and screen, it isn’t the best. But if you look closely, you can see a bit of her red breast.

 

Mama Robin. . .

is still around.  I’ve only seen her in her nest once in the past two days, but this morning, as I was enjoying the first cup of hot coffee on my day off, I spotted her. Well, first, I spotted the male robin, and then a few minutes later, there she was, checking the ground for edible wormy delights. Then she perched on top of the fence between my and my neighbor’s yard. I decided to try to get a picture of her, but of course as soon as I walked out on the back porch, she took off.

The nest looks as if she’s put a bit more soft grass in it. So I guess she’s still got plans for the nursery.

 

Robin’s Nest Update

I had a very busy Tuesday, and so didn’t get a chance to post the picture I took yesterday morning. As you can see, the robin’s nest is deeper, denser, and sturdier.  Mama Robin worked constantly, tucking herself deeper into the nest, and it looked like she was working the bottom of her new nest with the bottom of her feet.  Once when she popped up to look around for enemies (probably wondering if the big human creature on the other side of that glass was one!), she actually had mud stuck on the end of her beak.

Today, I have seen no sign of her at all, and I don’t know what that means. Is she letting the nest “cure” a bit? Not sure. I know very little about the avian species. I’m just fascinated and awed by what this tiny creature accomplished in less than 36 hours.

I do hope an errant four footed feline did not have her for breakfast or lunch. . .

New Life

While I’m beginning to think that we need to consider a Committee on the Building of an Ark in these environs, with all the rain that has fallen in the past couple of days, the good side of that is that the blooming plants and shrubs are happily soaking all this water in.  Further, the rain has washed some of that pollen away, for which my nose and head are grateful.

This morning, I happened to glance out of my downstairs bathroom window, and was amazed to see a tiny ark of sorts being constructed in the bush there. Yep, a Mama Robin is busy building a nest for her future brood.  I found that by standing very, very still, I didn’t scare her away, and so was able to watch, in wonder, as she arranged some long strands of dried grass and tiny twigs to shape her nest. Later, while she was out finding food for herself, I opened the window and the screen, and took a picture of the nursery-in-progress.

The Lion King Baby is currently visiting his feline cousins in Salisbury (one of whom tolerates him, two of whom despise him, all of whom line up at the door to go outside as soon as they see him–they are all allowed outdoors but he is not. . .), and so I suspect he would be most interested in these recent birdie developments. Now I have to figure out how to keep him out of that window this spring so Mama Robin can finish her nest and sit on her eggs in peace and quiet. Hmmm. . methinks this is going to be a  bit of a challenge. . .

Light of Christ and Lights of the World

I returned this afternoon from a weekend retreat with the St. Philip’s Vestry–my first one with them. From Friday evening until noon today, we spent good time together. We worked hard, reflected, talked about our hopes and dreams for the parish, laughed and had fun, broke bread, prayed, worshipped, and celebrated Eucharist. 

On Friday night, the moon was very close to being full, and although my camera is not terribly sophisticated, I took some pictures of the moon and clouds.

Yesterday morning, I got a few pictures of the fields and trees at the retreat center in the early morning mist and sunlight.

So there were the natural lights of the world.

 

 

 

 

 

There were other kinds of lights. There was the light of Christ in the faces of people at the retreat. Each person there brought his or her own gifts and talents, prayerful intention, and concern for those in the parish whom they represent. I heard gratitude expressed for getting through some tough times. I heard gratitude expressed for the leaders who have recently rotated off the Vestry–those who helped guide the parish in the past several years. I heard love and joy, and I saw all that too, in the faces of my brothers and sisters.

Some other lights:  on Friday night, we continued something that had been done in the past couple of years. I took the Parish Directory and cut out every name in it–even several whom we know to have left our midst for all kinds of reasons.  I put all those names in a glass bowl, then we lit small candles and surrounded these names with light.  It was a reminder to the Vestry that they as leaders, are responsible for the care, nurture, protection and leadership of the members of St. Philip’s.  The Light of Christ shone from the three candles not far away–a reminder of our God who is Three in One, and from candles lit to represent Vestry members.

The Light of Christ is strong and good and steady and faithful. The people of St. Philip’s were in our thoughts and prayers throughout the weekend. As they gathered to worship this morning, I hope that they felt our love and prayers crossing the miles between us as all of us celebrated the love of God in bread and wine around holy tables.

Praise God from whom all Lights and Blessings flow.

 

Virginia Tech One Year Later

One year ago, one person destroyed lives and innocent perceptions about the world on the Virginia Tech campus.  I wrote a poem that morning. Maybe I will re-post it here later today, after my Bible Study this morning.  In the meantime, if you go back to my April 2007 archives, or do a search on the title–APRIL GUN METAL MORNING–you can read it now.

In your prayers this day, remember those students left behind to cope with a new kind of life. Pray for their Post Traumatic Stress whose realities are sleeplessness, nightmares, sudden starts, fear of new things. Pray for healing on every level.  Pray for the parents, the sisters and brothers, the children, the extended families, the best friends, the faculty and staff of Va Tech, the caregivers on every level.  Pray for the good people of Christ Episcopal Church in Blacksburg and particularly for Scott Russell, the Associate there who is also Episcopal Chaplain on campus.

And pray for the repose of the souls who went home to be with God on that awful morning one year ago. “Remember thy servants, O Lord, according to the favor which thou bearest unto thy people; and grant that, increasing in knowledge and love of thee, they may go from strength to strength in the life of perfect service in thy heavenly kingdom; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” (from “Burial I” in The 1979 Book of Common Prayer, page 488.)

 

My Little Corner of Mother Earth

Spring seems to be an elusive tease this week.  In the past seven-ten days, we’ve had only one full day of warmth and sunshine here in Laurel, Maryland.  Not that we’ve had pouring rain all that time, but the skies have been cloudy and gray.  As I said to someone, God has used that gray crayon a lot lately, and I much prefer the sky blue and sunshine yellow crayons. 

Having said that, though, my little corner of the world is blooming and growing.  When I got home from church this afternoon, I happened to look towards the back of the yard. Lo and behold, there bloometh beautiful pink tulips!  Who knew? 

And who knew what other treasures might be blooming?  So after I changed into jeans, I wandered around the yard with my camera. I do not know the official names of any of these plants–other than the tulips–but I do know exquisite beauty when I see it.

I am struck by the contrast between the color of leaves on the very same plant. I am delighted by the bright color of flowers nestled in dark green.  I am happy when I see flowers, greenery and rocks all nestled in together in Mother Earth.

The psalmist writes, “The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof.”  Yes, it is, and when I see such beauty blooming in my little corner of Mother Earth, I am filled with gratitude for the colors, shapes and sizes of things God has created. And I am also grateful to the gardener who has left such a stunning legacy of paradise to this preacher.  I pray that I will be an adequate steward of this paradise this year, and my plan is to educate myself so that I can be an even better steward in the years to come. Now I must find a good all-round book on gardening–so if any of you green thumb types have a good suggestion, let’s hear it!

Photos © Sheila N. McJilton