Sermon for Pentecost Sunday May 31, 2020
I like to camp. One time in high school a group of friends went camping down Dry Creek Road. We had turned right on the dirt road that leads to Devil’s Bridge and Vultee Arch. We didn’t drive too far down that road as some people didn’t have off road vehicles. There was a place to camp, a pull out from the road not long after the road dipped down and then turned quickly to the right. There was a bluff where jeep tours would stop at sunset. Tourists could take pictures of Cock’s Comb and Doe mountain. It was a spot folks liked to get married at too. Thunder mountain looming to the southeast bearing witness to the solemn act. On that northern slope protected somewhat from the harsh sun the trees grew abundantly. Arizona cypress smooth bark and translucent green bunches of fir needles. Also Shaggy Bark Juniper, the truly dominant tree of the area like sisters and brothers spread out over the landscape twisted and contorted fingers sculpted by soft earth.
The camp spot was on an adjacent bluff also with good views. We parked around the bluff and carried the tents, bedrolls, firewood, and water up to the spot. At least one person had a four wheel drive truck. They parked at the top because they could. The essence of adolescence is that isn’t it? Doing what you can. After a picturesque sunset and jeep tours had all gone the lonesome starry sky belonged to only us or so we liked to tell ourselves. The fire was easily built. But as the sun went down the wind came up. It blew stronger and stronger. Not being new to camping we knew enough to not burn the forest down. The wind blew so hard we feared sparks would whip out into grass or shrub. It was cold too, you had to get so close to the fire to be warm your front side burned while your backside froze. What could we do?
Nobody knows more about camping than the generation of Hebrews who left Egypt in the Exodus. At first they didn’t know anything about camping. They’d cry out in hunger to God and Moses complaining that slavery was better in Egypt where they could eat their fill from the flesh pots. What’s freedom if you have to eat bugs and dirt in the desert? But the years went by, and the people got better at it. Moses learned too. He couldn’t manage leading the people all on his own. It was killing him. Finally 70 elders would be chosen to lead the tribes, clans, and families. Representatives of the people. But something went sideways. As God’s cloud settled on the meeting place, a wind whipped up and rather than the power being centralized on the prescribed set, two unlikely fellows, Eldad and Medad, who didn’t even have enough sense to be at the meeting place on time, were slayed by the Spirit. Right there in the middle of the camp they started prophesying. No ordination. No chain of command. Just raw spiritual power flowing through them. They called out prophetic words of God shocking the people and sending Joshua to tattle tale to Moses. Moses, like a chef who had just broken 68 eggs to make an omelet smiled at the miraculous off menu two poached eggs. “Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets,” he said.
Air is the key ingredient. What is the Holy Spirit but God’s very breath? Without God’s breath we die. A person without air will live only maybe 3 minutes, and then they are gone from this world forever. The tragic death of George Floyd reminds us of this. On the day that Jesus resurrected from the dead he went in and met with the disciples in the upper room. According to John he breathed on them the Holy Spirit and gave them the power to forgive sins, or to retain sins. “Whatever you forgive is forgiven, whatever you retain is retained.” You have the power. The only way to find new life is to let go of the past when you are ready. Forgive yourself first. Nobody can do your forgiving for you. It is a power that God gives only to you.
Forgiveness by the Holy Spirit is powerful. When the Holy Spirit fell anew on Pentecost about 2000 years ago it looked like fire spreading out over the people, tongues of flame enlightening each person to speak with tongues of faith. Africans, Asians, Europeans, and Arabs. Everyone was there except the Americans. But who knows? Would that God’s Spirit fall on Inca, Aztec, Maya, and Sioux as well. All flesh enlightened with the desire of God’s holiness. Pacific islanders, Aboriginals, and deep in the Amazon rainforest too. All flesh worthy to receive God’s breath of life.
Happy Birthday church! You were born in wind and Spirit. You were born by spirit that inspired visions, dreams, and prophecies inside and outside the camp. You are not a centralized hierarchy. Structures can’t hold you, but you infiltrate and transform them. Transformation is needed today. Hearts that have been frozen with hate and pain need to be transformed. Minds that have been closed by injury and neglect which are fearful, can only be renewed by God’s Spirit. Souls troubled with pain, anger, and rage need gentle healing by your Spirit and a more just world.
What lies before you is not a once in a lifetime moment. This is a once in a generation opportunity to remake the world: church, school, government, business, economy, and family. In order to transform we need vision, dreams, and prophecies – the very things God’s Spirit helps us to do. The world may not go back to normal. Something has broken that cannot be repaired. But we are not totally broken. God is not totally broken. The Spirit is moving. Right now we need visions, dreams, and prophecies from all of God’s people. This is a time to innovate and think creatively. Church may look differently. Like Moses calling the 70 we need unlikely leaders. We need Eldads and Meedads. We need Cretans and Arabs. We need youth and seniors. Necesitamos jóvenes y ancianos. We need dreamers.
Wind and fire are dangerous. On that spring night in the Coconino national forest we contemplated extinguishing the fire altogether. What purpose did it serve shooting sparks in the forest, not warming us but burning everything down? Then someone had an idea. Let’s put up a tarp. A tarp? Where? By the fire? Are you crazy? They turned on their heel and walked from the fire into the wind a few paces. There stood two tall beefy trees. Arizona Cypress with the smooth bark you could caress. Not bad for hugging, if you were into that. We found the two largest tarps from the group, grommets in each corner. Rope tied with boline to each grommet. The lower corners stretched out to the base of the trees. The lighter and more nimble among us climbed the trees, hoisting up tarp and rope. Tying the tarp up as high as possible. Then another tarp above it. It was an ugly job. The tarps billowed like sad sails for an imaginary boat on the long extinct Pedragosa sea. But it worked! It worked surprisingly well. The fire was calm. Burning slowly, a few lone sparks dancing upward, burning out and falling down to the bare red earth. The tarps were just wide enough and tall enough for folks to sit around the campfire circle. If you left the shelter of the sideways upright tarps you had to check your footing so hard did the wind blow. But by the fire it was warmer and safe enough. Safe enough to stay the night under the lonesome stars and friendly trees.
Holy wind cannot be controlled. It is not confined to any one church, or building, to a denomination, a religion, an organization or person. God’s Spirit will fall on whomever and wherever it wants to. The church is people that the spirit has pushed together sometimes kicking and screaming. Hoisting up ugly austere tarps and tents as temporary shelter. Collecting fuel. Sharing food, and keeping company during the cold night and under the lonesome stars. Maybe. Just maybe, some will receive a dream, a vision, or a prophecy that will take us on the next leg of the journey. Amen.
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