Pentecost People

The following is a devotion I wrote for our Annual Conference devotional ministry.  It will be distributed on May 18, the day before Pentecost.

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. ² And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. ³ Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. (Acts 2:1-3)

 

How many times have you read this passage about Pentecost? Probably enough times that the idea of a violent wind rushing through the house and tongues of fire dancing among the people just feels interesting, but expected.  Take a moment and imagine what it was like for the people who were gathered together. I think they would have been afraid – they might not have understood what was going on.  Wind and fire in the house? Sounds like the stuff of nightmares. Who knew what would happen next?

 

I think we are living through a time in our church when it is easy to be afraid – when we don’t know what is going to happen next. As I write this at the end of February, General Conference approaches. The delegation has been and will continue to be praying using the words return, rebuild, restore. If you think about it, those are words full of fire and wind – power and unpredictability.  But read the next verse in our passage from Acts: All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. (Acts 2:4)

 

The wind that rushed through the house and the fire that touched them were of God. The Holy Spirit filled them, and while that can be frightening, it is a sure sign of the presence of God.

 

As I write this in February, I don’t know what the next few weeks, months, or years will hold, but I know God is present. As the new church gathered 2000 years ago, amid wind and fire, they spoke in other languages and understood each other. It was unity. It was a restoration of what community could be, and it was packed full of possibility.

 

Instead of focusing on the fear, consider the possibilities. What hope are we offered? What hope can we bring to others? Even amid our disagreements, we can be filled with the Holy Spirit; we can understand each other, and we can offer the possibilities the world needs.

 

Are you willing to be Pentecost people?

 

Prayer: God of wind and fire, send your Holy Spirit among us so that we can give up the fear of losing what we know, be the Church you call us to be, and offer every possibility of new life to the world. In your son’s name, Amen.

 

Chosen

One of the lectionary readings for last Sunday was Acts 1:15-17. and 21-26.  In the passage, Peter is standing among the believers, talking.  He tells them the scripture has been fulfilled in what Judas did, and that now it is time to choose another Apostle.  He lists two men: Barsabbas and Matthias.  They prayed and then they cast lots.  Matthias was chosen.

Last June, the Annual Conference voted on one more lay delegate to be part of our Jurisdictional delegation and to be a reserve delegate for General Conference. It's done by a majority vote - there were more than five - maybe eight - lay people nominated, including me.  A majority vote means that the person chosen has to have at least half plus one of the votes cast in order for the voting to stop.  We just keep voting until someone reaches that threshold.  Last year, that was me.

It wasn't casting lots, and I don't know if I am the one God chose, but I am grateful I was able to attend the Conference. 

I had heard (and watched via streaming) the vitriolic 2019 Special Conference.  I hoped before we went that it would not be like that, but that was part of my expectation - that there would be arguments and ugliness. 

Not everyone agreed about anything at General Conference; however, the tenor of the conversations were not ugly. There was a sweet spirit in the conferencing. There were difficult conversations - about the number of bishops, the budget, regionalization, the Social Principles, and the removal of language relating to homosexuals. I can count the number of conversations that turned close to ugly on one hand.  Most of the tough conversations were respectful and necessary. 

Being chosen to attend General Conference was a blessing. As I said, I don't know if God was involved in my election, but I do know and can witness to God's presence at the Conference and with me throughout the two weeks.

Perspectives: Hmmmm

 

I'm just not sure.

Grace at a Conference

Last fall, our Foundation recently held an Academy of Faith and Generosity.  From 1:00 on Monday through 11:00 on Wednesday, those attending heard talks from various experts in their fields about creating a culture of generosity, managing their endowments, and encouraging legacy giving. My colleague and I presented the Legacy Giving session. 

After talking for about 10 minutes, I could feel my throat start to close up and my voice became horse.  I hadn’t planned ahead and put a bottle of water near the podium. It got worse, so I asked “Could someone get me some water?” Getting into the situation was my own fault - I speak pretty often and know the value of having water nearby, but I just hadn’t planned ahead.

When I asked, five people jumped up and went into action.  More than was needed. One person put a couple of cough drops on the podium for me, someone else arrived with a glass of water.  I was so impressed by how quickly people helped me.

And then, all the rest of the academy, while other speakers were presenting, someone would walk up to the podium and leave a new bottle of water on the table next to it.  Without being asked.  Just to be helpful and kind.

This is grace, I think.  It’s an abundance of help for someone who asked for it, even when their situation is their own fault, and it’s the quiet help you don’t even asked for, but appreciate.  It isn’t what we deserve - it isn’t what we earn - it’s just helping other people out of kindness.

Thanks be to God for it. 

Lessons from the Airport

Steve and I were flying to Nevada to see our younger son.  I don’t fly all the time - but about once or twice a year.  I’m old enough for that to add up to a decent amount of flights so while I’m not seasoned by high frequency, I’m seasoned by time.

Preparing to fly - the trip to the airport, the check in at the ticket counter, the security lines, and the trip to the gate to catch the flight - are almost always tinged with a anxiety.  I’m not worried about the flying, but one is on a timetable, right?  There is always the possibility of missing one’s flight.

Part of the preflight (we’ll call it) is checking in at the ticket counter.  I love that I can actually check in on my phone.  I can even pay for my baggage ahead of time.  All that means that I feel as if I’m walking to the ticket counter with the job half done. I”m not starting from scratch, but I”m not finished.  I arrive at the ticket counter where a million (OK, I exaggerate, but it felt like that today) people are bustling around to a tune I don’t know. There are lines here and there and various stand of check in machines.  Everyone seems to know what they are doing except for me.  Which line? Which machine? Which grim faced counter employee?

Today, when we got to the Delta island of check in, there was an employee standing near the aisle.  He asked if we had checked in and paid for our baggage.  Yes. Then go to this line which is baggage drop off.  Magic.  He had interpreted the dance of check in for us and integrated us.

It made me think of church for the person who visits.  I am definitely a church insider, but when I go to a church where I haven’t been before, I’m aware of the outsider feeling.  I imagine this is 10 or 20 times worse for someone who rarely attends church. We need people like the Delta employee who helped us this morning.  “Here is how you do the dance.”

Who would this person be? The greeter at the door? The friendly pew-mate? The person who works so hard to put the words on the screen (including those parts we all know)? All of them or more.  We need to arrange our system for those who don’t know it, not for those who attend all the time.  

Swords and Ears

Yesterday, in General Conference worship, we sang Grace Alone.  The words on the screen at one point said:

Every loving sword we say
Every ear we wipe away

Everyone makes typos, inlcuding yours truly, all the time.  I just through this one was interesting. 

Think of these verses:

Rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing (Proverbs 12:18)

From the same mouth comes a blessing and a curse. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so (James 3:10)

Sometimes our words, even if we think they are loving, are swords.  We become deaf to the effects of what we say, as if our ears have been wiped away.

We should all take care that our words are not swords and that we don't create extra tears to wipe away due to our own deafness.

Grace of Multiple Voices

 

At General Conference, one of the priorities was to ensure that, since we are a global church, voices from around the world are heard.  This means that delegates uses translation devices so that they can understand each other.  As a reserve, I have a translation device to use in the plenary session (FM receiver) but it doesn't work in legislative committees.  Also, there are four official languages at General Conference - English, French, Portuguese, and Swahili, but there many more spoken.  Such as Spanish, Finnish, and others I can't name.

When people stand to offer prayer - and this is done pretty often in legislative committees because the delegates pray before all votes - people are encouraged to use their own language. 

Have you exprienced a prayer in a Philipine langauge? Portuguese? Or even Spanish, and not understood it? The prayer just pours over you.

It reminds me of the idea of trusting someone to pray for you - you let go of control and rely on your trust of them and your trust of God.

That's what this feels like.  You quietly rely on the pray-er to pray and you trust in God to hear.  It's kind of a grace-filled joyful experience.

Perspectives: My View

 

My view from the Reserve section of General Conference.