Just a few weeks ago, we were talking about Pentecost in the context of the Tower of Babel. On March 21, I said,
the Acts 2 account of Pentecost is God’s revelation of what happens when God’s power is expressed. When the Holy Spirit descended upon the disciples, “tongues as if of fire” were seen but did not destroy. Instead, the disciples were filled with words declaring the wonders of God – only they were filled with the words declaring the wonder of God in languages that were not native to them, but were native to their listeners. What they built was not a tower to make a name for themselves; rather, it was a community established for the name of God. What the disciples discovered was this: when the glory of God and the joy of the LORD is the focus of attention and the purpose of our conversation, it is remarkable how smooth and easy communication becomes.
That’s true. But I want to take things in a bit of a different direction today.
Intro
Just as the story of a child begins with the waiting of pregnancy, the story of Pentecost begins with waiting. The risen Jesus gathered the disciples and told them to wait in Jerusalem for the promise of the Father. “John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.” At some point later he said, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8). Then, he ascended into heaven in front of them. Apparently, no one was quick enough to ask, “What does that mean?”
Waiting for the Holy Spirit was a lot like being pregnant. There they were, the disciples waiting for something to happen that was completely out of their control. Whatever was going to happen would take place when it happened, and there was nothing the disciples could do to hurry it along or induce it. Five years ago, I remember that Brooke started having labor signals. She went to the hospital, we thought, “This is it!” And they sent her home. That was not a happy time. I think many of mothers can recall what it felt like just waiting – waiting – waiting – I am so done with this, let’s get this baby going – waiting for whatever was going to happen to happen. Ellie arrived a week later.
Waiting in expectation is the name of the game during a pregnancy. In the midst of that waiting, there is a ton of preparation that needs to take place. The house needs to be made ready. There are considerations of diet and exercise. There are clothes that need to be gathered. And how about the other supplies – what about the diapers, the wipes, the powders, the bottles, the stuff! There was a point when Jen was pregnant with Abby that we used the garage as a staging ground – and I remember just sitting down with my hands in my heads thinking, “What have we done? How does anyone use all this stuff? Where does it go?“
Waiting is a familiar posture for the church. When I read the account of Pentecost, I tend to think, “Well, fifty days isn’t that long.” However, the disciples’ waiting was more like COVID time. They did not have a date-certain penciled in on their calendar for the Holy Spirit coming. They did not have any idea when they would receive the Holy Spirit, what it would look like, or what would happen. We have the luxury of looking back and seeing God’s hand revealed in the Pentecost story during the festival of first fruits. But the disciples were from a people used to way more than 50 days of waiting – the Israelites had already been waiting for hundreds of years for the revelation of what God would do with his messiah; and, at that point after Jesus’ ascension, things were – at best – confusing.
Even though they were not sure what to expect, the disciples were busy preparing. They continued meeting together. They continued sharing what they had heard and seen in Jesus. They talked about what Jesus taught and commanded. And, most importantly, they prayed. They prayed individually and they prayed together.
We are in that kind of a waiting phase right now in the church. We are waiting for Jesus’ return and the fulfillment of the realization of the heavenly kingdom. We are waiting as we watch the peoples of the world do horrible things to each other – and to themselves. We are waiting – waiting – waiting – I am so done with this pandemic, with terror, with warfare, with famine, and with hatred – come on already, Jesus – waiting, and waiting some more for God to make everything right. We do not have Jesus’ return penciled in on our calendar; we do not have any idea when it will happen. We have some picture of what it will look like and what will happen when Jesus returns, but the truth is we see in a mirror dimly; only then face to face. We need to have humility to realize that God is likely to fulfill his promises exactly as he said, but that it will be completely different than our expectations, like the rushing of a wind blowing. Remember, the Israelites had fairly specific expectations of the messiah and missed it when Jesus was revealed.
Even though we are not sure what to expect, we need to be busy preparing. We need to continue meeting together. We need to continue sharing what we have heard and seen in Jesus. We need to talk about what Jesus taught and commanded. And, most importantly, we need to pray. We need to pray individually and we need to pray together. As we think about where we are headed, we have to ask, are we doing what we hope to be doing when Jesus returns suddenly?
I ask because in the church today, there seem to be two seemingly contradictory things happening simultaneously. On the one hand, because it seems like God is making us wait a long time, we seem to have lost the expectation that God is going to act. The filling of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost seems very distant and like something that could be explained away if we looked at it long enough. We have settled for a very passive God, a God who once may have been very active but now seems to be more interested in other areas of the creation. There is a sense in which congregations feel like they are just doing church in order to obey God’s command without any real hope or expectation that God’s kingdom will ever come. There is a sense in which congregations act as if they have to build the church themselves; that if they work harder and do more stuff, that people will come and join.
On the other hand, we seem to have lost the ability to be amazed. The resurrection was amazing. Pentecost was amazing. “All were amazed and perplexed and asked, ‘What does this mean?’” Our salvation is amazing. We hear about salvation and God’s marvelous deeds and think, “that’s nice.” Are we capable of being amazed any longer?
We pray for what we want and so often fail to see when God gives it to us. We pray for God to make Christ known – and today we celebrate an adult baptism and profession of faith. Do you see? Looking farther back, we can see abundant examples of how God has answered our prayers – if we have eyes to see. It is amazing – if we allow ourselves to be amazed.
The Miracle of Birth
And then comes the big day. Like the rushing of a blowing wind, it comes. After all that waiting, it finally comes and yet, it seems like it happens all of a sudden. There you are minding your own business when – uh, oh, honey – I’m not in control any longer. This is happening!
I totally understand the frenzy of Pentecost. Jen went into labor with Abby in the middle of the night. She shook me awake and said, “I think this is it.” I was bolt upright awake and moving into action. Jen was cool and collected. She casually went to take a shower and clean up; I was off like the Tasmanian Devil running around waking Kaley and Brooke to get them ready to go to my cousins’, planning the phone calls to their schools to let them know the girls would not be there, making sure they had their bags backed for an extended stay, starting up the car and moving everyone along, trying to make sure everything was good to go. Jen finally said, “Would you relax? We have some time.”
That was Pentecost. The Holy Spirit moved among them and the frenzy ensued.
When Ellie, Emma and Carter were born, I couldn’t wait to tell everyone how amazing and perfect they were (and are). I burst with pride, joy, thanksgiving, and excitement at God’s blessing to my family. We called and texted our extended family. We called and texted friends. We posted on Facebook and Instagram (none of us use Twitter that much; but if we did, you can bet we would have.) We called and texted business associates. I won’t speak for anyone else, but I told total strangers the good news. I did not expect them to do anything with that information – that was not the important thing to me – I just could not keep my joy to myself.
And, so it was on Pentecost. When they were touched by the Holy Spirit, the disciples spilled out into the streets to tell how amazing was God. In all those languages, they were proclaiming God’s deeds of power. They were shouting and rejoicing without any expectation of a reaction on the part of others – that was not the important thing – they just could not keep their joy to themselves. Yes, there was a reaction, but that was God’s work – not the disciples’.
Let me pause here to give a word of caution. Just because this is a day of celebration, it is not a day of domestication. Parents discover fairly quickly that they are not in control. Children do not always follow the pattern of what we expect – they often have a will of their own and do not simply do what we want. Receiving the Holy Spirit is similar in that we quickly realize we are not in control. However, unlike parents with a newborn child, we are not put in charge of God. Receiving the gift of the Holy Spirit is not like becoming a cartoon superhero. It does not change the relationship – God is still God and we are still God’s creation. We may be adopted as children and co-heirs with Christ in the heavenly kingdom of God, but we do not become God and do not get to tell God how to be God. There is a reason why Scripture says that the fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom.
I struggle with trying to domesticate God all the time. I want a god I can control. I want a god I can make do what I want and when I want. But then, I am confronted with the true God who loves me enough to not give me what I want when I want it. I am awed and astounded by the true God who does not do things how I think ought to be done, but does them better and more mysteriously.
Remember this: if you can control what your god will do, there is a strong likelihood that you are not worshiping the true God.
Time Moves On.
Looking at Ellie – and then at her younger cousins, Emma and Carter – I am astounded to see the changes in them. I remember the joy of their births, and then remember how I felt twenty-two years ago when Abby was born. All of them have changed dramatically since their births.
I also have been reminded how difficult it is to take care of the infant who cannot take care of herself. After the initial blush of joy has subsided, the reality of ongoing care of this helpless child sets in. This bundle of joy very quickly transitions into a crying, constant source of need. I have seen the sleeplessness in the eyes of the parents of our grandchildren. I have seen the pain – the literal pain in the depths of their being – as they try to figure out why their baby is crying. I have heard the exasperation in their voices as they wonder, “Is it ever going to get better? What were we thinking? Why didn’t anyone tell us?” We look at these babies and think, “It’s always going to be like this. It will be a miracle if they ever grow up!”
So it is with the church: as we look today, right now, we see at every level – from the congregation on up to denominations – we see the problems, failures, brokenness, and constant need. We are pained by the way we treat one another. We get frustrated and tired and disheartened and think, “It’s always going to be like this. I will be a miracle if it ever changes.”
And then, like the rushing of a wind blowing, they are finishing college. As Abby was in Hawaii last week visiting with friends who are graduating, I was jolted by how quickly this came. I had thought about this day for a long, long, long time; and yet it always seemed like it was far off. Even as time progressed consistently, this day never seemed any closer. Then, while the house was quiet (except for the cats imp-ing around) it hit me that this day had actually come.
As Abby’s COVID residency with us is waning, I have spent time reflecting on her journey. We remember the joyful disposition of her character when she was going through elementary school. I remember the challenges she has faced, and how she has been through a crucible of trials that have shaped her and prepared her for the future God has intended for her. As I look back, we can see how God has directed her steps – even when it felt to us as her parents that we were alone groping in the dark.
Jen and I have been talking about our hopes for Abby and also what her journey to Japan will mean to us: for the first time since we arrived here we will be empty-nested. It is a little unsettling, yet is exciting, too. We do not know what the future holds, but we do know the one who holds the future.
Conclusion
As the church lived into Pentecost, they had to put their trust in God. After the initial excitement and furor, they had to live into being the church: the gathering of those called together in the name of Jesus. The remainder of the book of Acts, the remainder of the New Testament, and the remainder of history up to and including today are all the story of what it means to live into the promises of Pentecost. It can feel like we are alone groping in the dark, but we have the promise of the one who is already victorious, “I am always with you – even to the end of the age.”
When we gather in Jesus’ name, we are reminded of God’s amazing deeds of power in Jesus Christ. We professing our faith that God is sovereign – not just then, but also now and forever – and that the judgment of death for our sin no longer binds us. We are sustained by the confident, assured hope that God is faithful to His promises and his kingdom will come – in God’s time – like the rushing of a wind blowing suddenly. Come, Lord Jesus, come. For that we wait. Amen.
Prayer