Sermon: "Pentecost Hope" (Pentecost Sunday, May 19, 2013)

Sermon: Pentecost Hope

Have you ever stood in our sanctuary, alone, in the afternoon or in the morning, looking around and appreciating every detail of its beauty? Have you ever stood or sat in the center of this sanctuary, breathing in and breathing out … Inhaling and exhaling? (Come on -you have! We’re all breathing in and breathing out every moment, without ceasing, and we are here, aren’t we?)

Last Thursday afternoon, I was alone in the church, and I crossed the  sanctuary to find something. I suddenly felt the vitality of this space: this space where we work, this space where we worship, this space where we wonder, this space where we weave our stories. So I stood in the aisle, taking some pictures of the biblical stories in stained glass, with my smartphone - I think these days, taking pictures is a part of how we take a look at things! - , then turned around and faced the Christ window. (action) The white summer light came through the window and made it shine like a stained glass miracle.

That moment of awareness was an inspiration - this space is not just a building. It is a church. Our existence together consists of a church, the body of Christ, not just a family, nor a social group. The body of Christ breathes in and breathes out, like a living body does. Suddenly I realized this sanctuary was breathing with me as I breathed in and out. Am I being too mystical here? Let’s try something - imagine that the pews to the left of you and the pews to the right, are a paired set of lungs - an essential organ every life needs to live. Breathing happens without our conscious thought - our body just does it automatically. We don’t think about it, we just do it.

This past week has caused me to reflect upon how we breathe, what we do when we breathe, what is even so special about breathing? Why was I even thinking about breathing? Maybe it was because something last week reminded me of the simple truth that life is, in some way, all about breathing, and Pentecost is coming … and here we are! In Pentecost we retell the story of God’s Spirit coming to people in wind and fire.

In the church we often speak of the events at Pentecost as the “coming” of the Holy Spirit as if it entered human existence for the first time at Pentecost. But the account of Pentecost in Acts and the Hebrew account of creation use the same word for Spirit - Genesis says, God breathed the “ruach” into the nostrils of Adam. ‘Ruach’ means ‘spirit’, ‘wind’ and ‘breath.’ God’s breath has been here from the beginning, like the air we breathe, like the wind that blows the clouds from the sky.

We all know what happens when the involuntary, essential process of breathing ceases. Even when our breath is shortened by just a mild bronchial infection, or asthma – we gain a deep, rueful understanding that normal, full, healthy breathing is quite special.

At some point in our lifetime, we learn that we can still stay alive, even while holding our breath for thirty seconds or a minute; I think my older son learned that two or three months ago, (he was very proud), as he began to love challenging himself to hold his breath and dive – in the swimming pool or in the bathtub – with his goggles on.

We also apply a similar knowledge - that we can still be alive, and look like we’re living well, for a limited time or for a lifetime, even if we distance ourselves from the path of seeking God’s Spirit, the Holy Spirit, to be with us and dwell among us. We learn that slightly distancing our life from God does not turn our world upside down, that everything still looks good, nothing seems to change too much for us. We think that we are still fine, still okay. It seems that the distance doesn’t matter.

But, like the difference between a full-blown balloon and a balloon slowly deflating, living with the full presence of God, living with the full breath of God, makes a difference.

Gloria Cope shared her article with the Board last Thursday, and I’ll share it with you: She was attending a worldwide conference, held in Brazil, in 1992, entitled, “No North or South.” It was the opening day of the week-long conference with over 1000 women and some very brave men attending, including many church leaders from both the Northern and Southern hemispheres.

When keynote speaker Anglican bishop Steven Charleston finished speaking, Gloria realized she was crying. She told us that, over the next 21 years, as she watched global events unfold with sadness in her heart, she would turn back to the bishop’s message and find renewal for hope in his words.

Steven Charleston was a Native American from Alaska, a member of the Choctaw people. He opened his message by announcing, “The light of the world is shrinking. It is part of the phenomena of the shrinking number of people and nations who hold the world’s wealth. These nations and peoples are becoming increasingly dependent upon the rest of the world to maintain an untenable lifestyle – a lifestyle based on gluttony and greed.”

He continued to say, "The light is shrinking and darkness is growing, but there is another light that is beginning to grow in this darkness"; that light is who we are, as a church, as the body of Christ, who will stand up and sing, dance in the middle of darkness, in the love of Jesus. As the humble people of the earth and of the sky, we will exercise breathing – as said in Micah – the breathing of justice, compassion, humility. Lacking any of these three cannot make us healthy, as a cell, as an organ, as the body of Christ.

According to Charleston, in Christian history, the first reformation reformed our theology; the next reformation will reform our spirit. This second reformation or the New Church will be reinforced over and over by the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Pentecost, the wind and breath and fire of God. Again, it is about breathing.

As we prayed this morning, the cycle of the respiratory system – inhaling God’s breath and exhaling justice, compassion, and humility – is so essential. Breathing in and out God's Spirit, the breath and wind of God, is what we should not and cannot stop, because it is the minimal, indispensable, necessity of Christian life which sustains and enables us to be who we are. It permeates every cell of our being, nose to toes, nose to head, lung to heart and invigorates our bodies and minds and souls. It gives health to our spirit and body together. Living, infilled with the Holy Spirit, which is as ordinary as extraordinary, is a gift from God to the church and gives it life.

What amazes me sometimes is how the Christian year and calendar is so well organized to fit perfectly to the nature of each coming season. With Easter, we welcome spring in its freshness, the season when new life is blooming all around us. Pentecost comes with spring well underway, and summer being not far behind. The season of Pentecost lasts until September - Pentecost is the season of fullness; everything is full; the light, the sunshine, the limitless width of the cloudless summer sky, and full baskets of of berries on the earth! It is a zesty, sun-dappled season! Time for a bit of wine! Time for a festival! Celebration seems to be so easy! But Pentecost is not an event to take lightly.

Pentecost is the day and the season in which we are invited to exercise ordinary and extraordinary breathing, the miraculous and humble exercise, with care, with purpose, questing for what we hope is life, for what we hope will invigorate our self and our existence as a church with the full breath and the full presence of God. May this truly be our Pentecost hope rising and falling in our chests and in our hearts. Amen.