It Doesn't Have to Be Noisy
based on Acts 2:1-20
anonymous
Descending doves, rushing winds, tongues of flame. These are the signs and symbols of
Pentecost, the day that is observed by many Christians as the birthday of the Church. What
a wild day it was on that day that the Church was born; so wild, in fact, that some
observers accused the disciples of being drunk on new wine, at 9:00 in the morning, no
less. It was noisy - what with that rushing wind sound that filled the whole house, with
all the different languages being spoken at once (can you imagine the cacophony?), and the
roaring blaze of tongues of flame resting on the disciples. And the crowd! The story later
informs us that those who received the word were baptized, and there were added that day
about 3000 souls. (vs.41).
It's a scary image to modern preachers. It's scary for some to think of the Holy
Spirit crashing in on a nice orderly routine worship service and taking over, changing
people's lives, setting the community on fire with ideas and enthusiasm and love. But it's
also scary to think that most congregations will "yawn" their way through this
great and holy feast day, wholly unaffected by the Power that is available. It's a
dilemma.
The dilemma, however, arises from the same kind of question presented by Philip in
today's gospel passage. The context follows the last supper. Judas had been excused to do
what he must do. Jesus had given his new commandment to love one another as he had loved
them. And then he warned the disciples that they wouldn't be able to follow where he was
going. Peter, as always, in his thoughtless exuberance proclaimed that he would lay down
his life for Jesus, and Jesus predicted that Peter would actually deny him 3 times before
the cock crowed again. But he immediately follows that warning with a kind of "don't
worry, it'll be alright" response, saying, "Let not your hearts be
troubled," and advises them that he's going ahead to prepare the way for them.
There's this brief discussion about knowing the way, then, that leads us to today's
passage where Philip asks to see "the Father," and Jesus says, "Look at me.
Look at me, Philip - and all you who want to see God - Look at me, and you will see me in
the words that God gives me to say, or in the works that I do."
I think most of us have been in that place, at one time or another, where we just
wanted to be able to see God. I believe it occurs most frequently when we are feeling lost
and alone and afraid. Something inside us cries out, "where are you God? where are
you when I need you? why won't you change this frightening situation in which I find
myself?" It may also occur when we face major life decisions. We want to know,
"where are you, God? what is the sign? which thing should I choose? won't you give me
a clue and show me the way that I should go?"
So Jesus answers, "Have I been with you so long, and yet you do not know me,
Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen God; how can you say, 'show us God?' Do you not
believe that I am in God and God in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my
own authority; but God who dwells in me does the works of God. Believe me that I am in God
and God in me; or else believe me for the sake of the works themselves."
I hope that you have had this experience, as I have, to be able to see God in the words
and works of some person that you know has been with Jesus a long time, who has lived
close to the Word of God through worship and study and prayer and service. Actually, I was
reminded just last week, when I visited another congregation in worship, and I listened to
a preacher whose very life and presence, as well as the words of his sermon, reflect a
deep and abiding faith in the Living God. I felt as much moved by the integrity of his
life of faith, knowing that he has a gentle spirit that imitates what he knows of Christ
from a lifetime of living by following Christ's example. He's not particularly noisy about
it, my friends, but the Holy Spirit does indeed dwell in him, I am sure of it. It's not
only preachers who are able to reflect God. I know of a number of lay people who are so
familiar with the life and teachings and works and death and resurrection of Christ that
their very lives manifest the same kind of reflection of God. And then, there are many
people more like me who sometimes get it right and sometimes don't, who just keep
searching and hoping and praying and stumbling around in the mire of fears and wants and
confusion, who are still wanting to be with Jesus long enough that it all becomes so clear
and easy.
But listen. There's more good news. Jesus tells Philip and the disciples that THEY will
be able to do the works that Jesus does, and not only that, but "GREATER works"
than even Jesus. Now when I think about the works of Jesus, the things he did, the first
thing that comes to mind are the miracles, the healings, the restoring of sight to the
blind, hearing to the deaf, and mobility to the lame. But more and more, I'm convinced
that's NOT particularly the work to which Jesus was referring. Jesus goes on, in this
passage, to say that he will do anything that is asked in his name. But he doesn't stop
there. He goes on to elaborate by saying, "if you love me, you will keep my
commandments,...and I will give you another Counselor to be with you for ever, even the
Spirit of truth (that) dwells in you and will be in you." It puts a whole other slant
on the formulaic closure that we give to our prayers, when we ask things "in Jesus
name." For some of us, perhaps, to end our prayers this way has become habitual, and
we may at least subconsciously ascribe to it a kind of magic power to make our wishes come
true. I believe, however, that Jesus is calling us to know him so well, to understand him
in a way that actually shapes our prayers. In this way, our prayers become so much more
than a deep yearning for whatever it is that WE believe is right or good.
An old video movie, --just a made-up story, true--dramatized what I believe is Jesus's
point on this, when in "Resurrection," the main character, after a near death
experience, returns to life with a spiritual gift of healing. She becomes quite well known
for this, and draws huge crowds of people who come to her for this gift. Another character
in the movie, who admires--even loves--the heroine becomes quite distraught because she
NEVER ever names Jesus as the source of her power. There is at least one scene where she
sends away unhealed an adolescent girl, and later tells someone that the girl still needed
her affliction. My point here is that her spiritual gift of healing was somehow guided by
a Holy Counselor that gave her a distinct insight into other people's pain and suffering,
and she was faithful to the guidance of that spirit. To end our prayers "in Jesus
name," means, I believe, that we commit ourselves to seeking and discerning Jesus's
way; NOT that we turn it over to Jesus for some magic transformation that grants
thoughtless --or even just not completely informed--wishes. There may be elements in a
situation that we do not understand, or are unable to discern on our own.
At least one dimension of discernment, then, is understanding a bit more about what the
"works" of Jesus were. An internet discussion of this passage was helpful to me,
when another preacher pointed out how this passage ties together the Trinity: starting
with the desire to see God the Father (Creator), moving to the examples of Jesus
(Redeemer), and culminating in the promise of a Counselor or Holy Spirit (that unifies and
sanctifies). When I think of it that way, I see the works of Jesus being
"redemptive." Whether it was turning an angry crowd from stoning a prostitute,
telling parables that turned on lights of understanding in people's hearts, asking a lame
man if he WANTED to be healed, stopping a 12-yr flow of blood for a woman who believed
that touching his garment would save her, or breaking tradition to glean on the Sabbath or
visit with a woman at a well about her serial husbands. Whatever he did, it was
redemptive. He took the things that blocked people from living joyfully and abundantly,
and gave them new life and new understandings.
That first Pentecost must have been unimaginably wild and exciting - more exciting than
having been at one of Elvis's concerts, or seeing any rock star in concert, or cheering
for your team in the last few minutes of the big game when the score is tied. There must
have been such a bond among people who suddenly heard the good news in their own language
for the first time. They must have all had such a spirit of unity among themselves - a
laughing, crying, dancing joy that couldn't be contained, as they learned about the
redeeming power of God, and as they let the Holy Spirit begin to change how they would
live, starting fresh and new and purified.
But it doesn't HAVE to be noisy. It MIGHT be. It MIGHT just shake up your life so much
that family and friends will raise their eyebrows and accuse you of going off the deep
end. On the other hand, being visited by the Holy Spirit might be quiet and peaceful as
you gradually begin to perceive and understand the redemptive works of Jesus. Either way,
the Holy Spirit comes into your life to bond you to those of us who want to be with Jesus
enough to be able to see God around us and in us. And you will be changed. For you will
have a peace that is not as the world gives, and your hearts will not be afraid. And
that's the good news. TBTG!