Onedark night The soldiers were breathing heavily, he noticed, when they came to get him in the garden. It was a dark night, and out in this lonely place, at the late night hour, the air was turning cool. He felt a chill up in his spine as the soldiers approached, their eyes betraying some apprehension mixed with determination.
They had done this before, of course, following a lead, taking advantage of a tip, to round someone up. They had the numbers, the superior strength, and this small group participating in what looked like some kind of late night religious ritual, didn't look too threatening. Still, you never know, and they would be glad when it was all over. So they told everyone to back away and they went straight to the one the informer pointed at. That one, over there, he said. They grabbed him, one on each arm, and just as quickly they were off.
He knew he had to follow. But with each step he grew increasingly nervous. This was not good. They were nearing the high priest's house. Then it dawned on him. I was with him, will they want me too? He wanted to blend in, just be normal, look like everyone else, maybe no one will notice and I can just ride this out, he began to think. There was a fire in the middle of the courtyard and people were standing around, warming themselves. I'll just warm myself too, he thought. He became part of the ring staring down at the hot fire.
But there was a woman across the fire from him. He could feel her eyes staring at him, curious, wondering, as if she might know him. She has a big mouth, he thought, I don't like this. And then, sure enough, out came the words. ``This man was with him too,'' she said to everyone around the fire. Several looked up and sized him up, he could feel their eyes.
He tried to act strong and casual, ``woman, I don't know what you are talking about.''
He must have said it forcefully enough because the conversation took a turn in another direction. He felt the pressure ease, though the woman was still there. But then, after a while, out of the blue, a man over to the right looked at him point blank and said, ``And you, you were with him!''
To which he quickly replied, ``Man, not a chance, I wasn't near him. You have the wrong guy.''
He couldn't leave because it might look wrong, like he was admitting something. All he could do was alternately sit and stand, right there in the courtyard, near the fire. Unfortunately, the little circle wouldn't let it go. Finally, another man pointed at him and said, ``Of course you were with him, look you are from Galilee, just like him!''
``Man I don't know what in the world you are talking about,'' Peter snapped in reply. Now he turned and began to leave the fire. Hours had passed. Something was going down in the high priest's house. The first faint rays of morning light would arrive within an hour. Just then he heard the first rooster of the morning crow.
The Spirit Comes Weeks later the dazed disciples and others are gathered together in a Jerusalem room. It is the time for the annual agricultural festival, maybe not the biggest occasion of the year, but worth getting together for nevertheless. They were just beginning to settle into the new reality of their situation. He was gone now and incredibly, they believed, he was not really dead but somehow with them, though they could not see him. They talked about him a lot, remembering things he said, remembering the things he did. It was consoling to remember and also, collectively, they were looking for clues, answers to the question of what comes next?
What happened in the room might be described as a vision, a kind of collective recognition and sensation of God's empowerment. As Howard H. Charles says, ``the language of analogy'' is used to describe what happened. Something like a strong wind, something like a fire, swept through the room.
The use of analogy to allude to wind and fire raises rich memories. The winds blew across the Red Sea, allowing the slaves in Egypt to escape, forming them as a people. Then in the desert the pillar of fire guided them. The Greek word used here (pneuma) for wind is also the Greek word for spirit.
The point here is not to dwell on whether or not a literal wind blew through the room, or whether actually hot flames rested above the heads of people gatheredbut what was the meaning of the intense feeling in the room. I personally don't doubt that there was a physical sensation in the room, a kind of electricity in the room, as the people huddled together, collectively sensing a new and deeper sense of oneness and unity. Perhaps, something like what we know when we sing Lord, you have come to the lakeshore during a united service here at FMC; or what we sense singing 606 at a Mennonite Convention, when we sing as one big united body, altogether. C Norman Kraus says, What really happened at Pentecost was the forming of the new covenant community of the Spirit. (Kraus, The Community of the Spirit, p. 15)
We might say that in some new way God was shaping and forming these people into his own, into a new kind of community. The presence of the Spirit, felt in power and particularity here, was not something unknown before in the pages of biblical history. The Spirit is referred to in the Old Testament as given to judges, kings, and prophets filling them with courage, wisdom, and power. The Spirit is upon Jesus at his baptism by John. Jesus is full of the Spirit when in the desert, and when he takes the scroll in the temple and reads he quotes Isaiah in saying ``the Spirit of the Lord is upon me.'' Mention of the Spirit is to say that God is present and active right here.
Today we understand the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost against the backdrop of Jesus himself. God's continuing presence in our world and in our lives is conditioned by all we have seen and heard and witnessed in Jesus Christ himselfin his words, in his example, in his life, in his death, and in his resurrection. We gather as a community today surrounding the witness of Jesus himself, and as we gather to contemplate anew, to study afresh, to sing words of praise and faith together, we sense in our flesh and in our bones the Spirit's empowerment to live in lives patterned after Jesus, and empowered by the Spirit.
What happens when the Spirit cutsloose? What happens to people when they allow the Spirit to take control, and have sway over their lives?
Peter was in the room too. He had had plenty of time to think since that fateful cool early morning when he walked away from the courtyard, his back turned on Jesus. But now he felt a growing strength within. He had been studying, reading, and listening. People standing around, passerby's and others, looked at the goings on and quickly judged, these are a bunch of drunkards. That's all this is. A bunch of people who have had too much to drink!
But Peter, now emboldened, rises to his feet, standing tall, looking out, and in a loud voice begs to differ. No, he says, this has nothing to do with drink. After all, it is early in the morning. Who would have too much to drink at this hour? And besides, remember the prophet Joel? He said that the day will come when your young will have visions, and your old will dream dreams. The old, the women, the men, the slaves, upon them all, the Spirit will come…
Our text cuts the sermon short, not allowing us to hear Peter make the connection to Jesus, the one who came to live among them, but who was rejected and scorned.
We can say, at the very least, that one of the results of the fresh inbreaking of the Spirit is a new boldness, a willingness to stand up and take a position.
Another expression of the Spirit's presence is the ability to listen and hear well. The text has all these references to language. The ``tongues'' of fire. The different languages being spoken with a long list given of the different dialects. People hearing and understanding in their own language. Can we glean from all this that when the Spirit comes we hear accurately and in a discerning way. We learn to hear well.
Our modern lives fill our minds with many different voices. We hear music of all sorts. The radio and television present people arguing, advertisers enticing, and commentators opining. We walk down the sidewalk, or through the mall, or in a hospital elevator, and everywhere there is some kind of music being drummed into our heads. Then there are all the things we can read, another kind of noise, both on paper or in a magazine or online. People talk to us, or friends or strangers call us on the cell phone. There is a lot of noise going on.
With the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost, people were able to hear well. They could distinctively hear their own language. I'd like to stretch the story to say to us, it is important to find ways of listening selectively, carefully, appropriately, and in a discerning, intelligent way. It is not healthy or wise to take in everything. We need to learn to listen well.
I think it is a sign of Christian growth and maturity when we learn to distinguish between fluff and substance. I say that as one who thinks some amount of no-brainer, raw entertainment, fluff taken into the mind and heart is actually good for you. But saying that it does admittedly make the task of discernment all the more challenging and critical. Sometimes fluff seems pretty enticing. Sometimes propaganda and lies are clothed with sober minded integrity and the appearance of honesty.
Think of the prophet Amos and his clear headed understanding of truth. There were plenty of folks, surely the majority of people, saying no, these feasts and festivals we celebrate are just fine. See how our wealth is an obvious sign of spiritual blessing. But Amos, sensing the Spirit's presence, said in effect that all your feasts and festivals are for naught. God doesn't want your fat animals and your clanging bells. God wants you to hate what is evil, and love what is good. Let justice roll down like a mighty river, he said. He was able to discern, midst the loud noise, God's strong truth for his life and his people.
Boldness and deeply hearing can be two manifestations of the Spirit's presence.
I want to suggest one final thing. That is, that as a people we nurture within and among ourselves a spirit of expectedness that God's Spirit can and will do things among us. What we read in Acts 2 may seem bizarre and strange. Brian McLaren says that charismatics believe that the Spirit of Jesus can be experienced, and, where is it found? Why, ``one step beyond the normal.'' (McLaren, Generous Orthodoxy, p. 175) I think there is some truth in this, in seeking Jesus one step beyond what we have previously known. But as McLaren points out from his conversations in charismatic circles, the down side is that you are always having to deliver yet another high-octane experience. People can get burned out, or bewildered, is that all there is, just one ecstatic experience after another?
A contrasting approach to seeking the experience of the Spirit is to, instead of looking ``one step beyond the normal,'' to look deep within the very center of the normal. This is a quieter journey, a more contemplative one, seeking to be still and quiet in the presence of God, allowing the Spirit to come and fill us up.
Whether we are constitutionally inclined to search beyond the normal or to peer deep within the normal, the important thing is to nurture within ourselves a longing and an expectation that the Spirit will rain down upon us.
Here in our community, as we gather together, we pray that the Spirit of God might fall afresh upon us, melting us, molding us, filling us, and using us.
As we wrestle with the difficult issues immigration problems and reform bring for people in our church, may the Spirit of God melt us. As we think of where we are today, and compare that with what we think we ought to be, may the Spirit of God mold us.
As we reflect on how difficult it is to be bold, and how complicated it is to be discerning, so that we can really hear, may the Spirit of God fill us. And as we think of neighbors near at hand, and those far away, whose pain is unlike anything we can imagine, may the Spirit of God use us.
