Wind and Fire: Or, Dude, What Have You Done With My Church?

Acts 2: 37-47

May 30, 2004

Last Monday evening I found myself, through curious but grace-filled happenstance, processing down the center aisle of the National Cathedral with the Dean of the Cathedral, Jim Wallis of Sojourners, the Rev. James Forbes of the Riverside Church in New York, National Council of Churches General Secretary Bob Edgar, and other leaders from such organizations as the National Association of Evangelicals and the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.

We were gathered for the worship service of the Call to Renewal Pentecost Gathering. I had been invited to join the procession along with other local pastors, and I had understood that all I would be doing is showing up in clerical garb to be part of the procession ñ to look good and sit down. I had thought there would be a fair number of local clergy. It turned out that there were three of us.

And it turned out that we were asked to join in the liturgical act of signing Call to Renewalís Isaiah Platform during worship. So I found myself standing in the great nave of the cathedral surrounded by all of these nationally known church leaders, walking up to the microphone to identify myself and sign this statement.

I could think of only two things: first, what am I doing here? And second, as I looked at the cross inlaid on the floor, isnít that where President Bartlett put out his cigarette in that episode of The West Wing?

I thought I was coming to church to sit and listen to some great preaching. I did not think I was going to be called on to do anything. But Pentecost is like that.

The great theologian, Flip Wilson, was once asked if he was religious. He replied, ìyes, Iím a J.O.î

ìWhatís that?î the interviewer asked.

ìItís a Jehovahís Observer,î Flip said. ìThey wanted me to be a Jehovahís Witness, but it required too much commitment.î

Well, on Pentecost the Spirit makes witnesses out of observers; it makes actors out of audience; it makes prophets out of a bunch of fearful disciples; it makes a church out of those who were huddled and hidden in a room too afraid to give witness to what they had seen and experienced in Jesus. And, on Pentecost, that same Spirit swirls among us yet again, pushing us out of our own upper rooms and into the world to witness.

Now it feels like a long time since I last preached with you. I have heard a lot of great preaching in the past few weeks, and so I know that the Spirit is alive and well in the church. Not only did I get to enjoy the preaching of Wes and John here at Clarendon on the past couple of Sundays, but I have heard our General Assembly Moderator Susan Andrews preach at Presbytery last week, and, prior to that I was privileged to listen to Jim Wallis, Bill Moyers, and James Forbes during the Call to Renewal Pentecost gathering last weekend.

Listening to all that great preaching has lifted my soul, and reminded me that there are many gifted and prophetic voices across the broader church. What a gift to celebrate on Pentecost, and I say ìthanks be to God for it.î

At the same time, hearing all that great preaching is a bit intimidating. I feel a bit like the young preacher who came to substitute for the regular pastor one Sunday. He told the congregation, ìyour pastor is such an illuminating preacher ñ heís like a pane of pure, clear, clean glass through whom Godís light shines so clearly. Next to him, I feel like a boarded up old window.î After the service, one sweet older member of the congregation came up to the young preacher and said, ìson, donít you worry about not being like pastor; youíre a real pane in your own right.î

Having spent a good deal of time in the last week with folks who are urging the church to agitate more forcefully for justice for those left out of the church and left behind by the economy, I will do my best this morning to be a real pain!

Iíve always liked the irreverent bumper sticker that says, ìJesus is coming! Look busy.î But even as I laugh at its whimsy, I sometimes think that bumper sticker reflects the ecclesiology of many of our churches. Look busy! Even if we donít know precisely what it is that we are to be busy about.

That observation led to my own irreverent sermon title, for this is what I imagine Jesus ñ returned as a California surfer ñ might say to us today: ìdude, what have you done with my church?î

On the front steps of the mega church, Jesus might say, ìYou all look so busy ñ but what are you doing? Where is the spirit of justice in the midst of this busyness?î On the front steps of the mainline church, Jesus might say, ìYou all look so busy ñ but where is the passion of spirituality in the midst of this busyness? Dude, what have you done with my church?î

Of course, sometimes I think the whole notion of church would surprise Jesus. For the entire ministry of the son of man was spent on the move, with no secure place to rest his head and certainly no extensive institutions, grand cathedrals or even small churches.

His early followers were called ìthe people of the way,î implying something alive with movement.

The Pentecost story extends this experience even as it inaugurates all of the rest that has come to be called the church. From a fearful group of confused disciples huddling in an upper room ñ fearing the authorities who have put their leader to death, and wondering about their continued experiences of that leaderís presence among them ñ from that rather pitiful picture springs forth the church of Jesus Christ.

So, what happened there? How did it happen? Whatís up with the rush of a mighty wind and tongues of fire? Well, as scripture tells us, the Spirit blows where it will, and it will not be pinned down to our narrow understandings of it. The best, or at least the most honest response to the ìwhatî and ìhowî questions is probably, ìI donít know.î

What is the Spirit of God? Well, I cannot describe it as such, but I can tell you how it feels. That is the brilliance of the Pentecost story. It wastes no breath on defining the Spirit. Playing off the Hebrew word ruah, Spirit is wind and fire. Itís hot. Itís alive. Itís moving. Itís powerful.

Itís enough to move a comfortable, moving-into-middle-age, home-owning, minivan driving, state-government policy analyst and father of, at the time, two, out of the upper room of personal, professional and economic security into the midst of ministry in a chaotic church lurching its way through what some call a second reformation.

Last week I watched as the Spirit moved Evangelical, Catholic, Mainline Protestant, Pentecostal, Black, Latino and Asian national church leaders and heads of faith-based organizations to come together and commit to work together to move the issue of poverty back onto the American political agenda and to move policy in a direction that ìcan significantly reduce the number of people worldwide who experience extreme poverty Ö through a foreign policy that sees just trade, effective international aid, and reducing the debt of impoverished nations as central to our national and global security.î[1] Only the Spirit of God could move the leaders of the Evangelical Association of America to sign the same statement as the head of the National Council of Churches!

Last week I spent three hours on a conference call with overture advocates who will be working to push the Presbyterian Church to live out its true calling and become an open, welcoming church that ordains spirit-filled, spirit-led, out and open gay and lesbian candidates for ministry. Only the Spirit of God keeps us coming back, year after year, knowing that anything that is worth having is worth the risk of losing some battles.

Spirit is wind and fire: itís enough to fill up your life even as it burns away old assumptions, old securities, old idols and moves you into new life, new communities, new commitments in places where you never imagined yourself being with people whom you may have thought of before as opponents.

Spirit is wind and fire: itís hot; itís alive; itís moving; itís powerful. And in the story from Acts it moves an entire community.

The direction of this movement tells us some crucial things about the life of Spirit. The disciples move ñ at the Spiritís inspiration ñ into the street. From huddling in fear in an upper room, they move into the center of the public square where they make bold to witness ñ to proclaim the gospel in every tongue for everyone.

Last week, when Wes spoke of Cuba and of U.S. policy regarding Cuba, he and others observed a decent and respectful reluctance to engage in political discourse in church ñ to mix up politics and religion. The disciples in Acts show no such reluctance.

Indeed, the Spirit drives them directly into the street, where Peter delivers the first great sermon of the Christian era. Quoting the prophet Joel, Peter says,

ìIn the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit and they shall prophecy (Acts 2:17-18).î

Now surely this is a proclamation of transformation, a message of the saving grace of Jesus Christ. It reminds us of the utter necessity of sharing this good news ñ of being witnesses and not merely observers ñ of allowing the present reality of Jesus to transform our own lives and of sharing our own stories with others. To that demand of this text, I say, in complete ñ if rare ñ agreement with my conservative evangelical sisters and brothers, ìyes, yes, let it be so.î

But conservative evangelicals too often stop at the experience of personal transformation and miss entirely the radical nature of the Spiritís demands on our common life. This is why I know the Spirit was burning and blowing last week at the Call to Renewal ñ evangelicals were calling for social justice!

And well they should, for the story in Acts paints an image of a world whose recognized order of power arrangements ñ in other words, its politics ñ has been turned upside down.

After all, upon whom is the spirit poured out? Does God pour out the Spirit upon Pharoah? Does God pour out the Spirit upon the president? Does God pour out the Spirit upon the Supreme Court? Does God pour out the Spirit upon the Secretary of Defense?

No! God pours out the Spirit upon the sons and daughters, upon the old, upon the slaves.

The daughters and the young shall take prophetic roles; even the slaves ñ even the women slaves ñ will be honored as prophets. The outcasts shall speak to the center rings of power.

And they do speak. Hear the words of Chris Glaser, a wonderful spiritual leader who would be a Presbyterian pastor if not for our churchís position on the ordination of gays and lesbians: ìInertia,î Glaser says, ìis the greatest contributor to injustice. Ö If we donít play a part in shifting societyís (or the churchís) direction, then we share responsibility for its misdirection.î[2] Locked out by his church, Glaser could have remained an observer, but the Spirit poured upon him created a bold witness.

Hear the words of James Forbes, a man who grew up way on the wrong side of the tracks, a dirt poor African-American Pentecostal, who is a prophet to the nations: ìthe real issue that's facing the nation now is how do we justify a corporate officer making through his stock and his options and his salary a thousand times more as head of the corporation than the lowest paid member? How do you deal with that?

And when you look at the consequences of this disproportion, that means that poverty is a weapon of mass destruction, and yet in our capitalist society to raise questions about the freedom of some to enjoy an inordinate proportion of the resources while others die for lack of basic subsistence necessities, that's gonna be a hard conversation to have.

If God were our consultant about economic reality, would God say, "Well, all I can say, it's just a free enterprise system. Let it work and everything is gonna be all right"? No. God would say, ëyou gotta look at that again.íî[3]

Burdened by deep poverty and racism, Forbes could have remained an observer, but the Spirit poured out upon him created a bold and prophetic witness.

Hear the words of Bill Moyers, born in Oklahoma in the midst of the Great Depression, a now one of the most prophetic voices among all American baptists:

ìItís fine,î Moyers says, ìfor the rich to buy more cars and to buy more vacations and to buy more houses and to buy more stocks and to buy more bonds and to buy more of all the finer things. But itís not fine for the rich to buy more democracy and itís not fine for the rich to buy more justice.î[4]

Moyers, who rose to the inner rings of power, could have used his position for private gain and remained an observer of the scene, but the Spirit poured out upon him created a bold witness.

ìGod has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly,î says the young, unmarried girl who would give birth to the Christ. ìGod has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty,î she sings.

The last shall be first, and the least of these shall be empowered. ìThe spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free.î This is a vision of a radically reoriented community, and it is an inherently political vision.

Peter wasnít crucified because he told stories about gentle Jesus, meek and mild. Peter wasnít crucified because he was trying to look busy when Jesus returned. No, Peterís life took its radical turn because the Holy Spirit drove him into the streets to preach the good news of liberation to the poor, the good news of new vision to those blinded by the status quo, the good news of radical welcome to those cast out beyond the margins of society.

Peterís life took a radical turn because he took seriously what Jesus took seriously ñ the prophetic vision of a just society. He took seriously what Joel took seriously when he said, ìthe day of the Lord is near in the valley of decision.î He took seriously what Amos took seriously when he said, ìLet justice roll down like water and righteousness like an everflowing stream.î He took seriously what Isaiah took seriously when he said, ìif you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday. Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.î

And, in response to Peterís faithful witness, the scripture tells us, people found salvation: they found health, wholeness and community. Their lives were transformed: individually and collectively. They gathered together around the preaching and teaching and breaking of bread. They turned away from selfish consumption and materialism and shared what they had with each other, so that those without could have what they needed. That might sound like creeping socialism, but itís all right there in the Book!

Ultimately, what the story of Pentecost, what the story of the early church in Acts is all about is pretty simple: the Spirit moves the church to public proclamation, it moves individuals to personal transformation, it moves observers to become witnesses, and it moves us all closer to understanding with utter clarity what we are called to be and to become.

And what is that? Well, itís certainly not a call to look busy because Jesus is coming, but it may be a call to get busy, to move from being observers to witnesses and even to disciples, because Jesus does want to know what we have done and are doing with his church.

So, what is it that we are called to be and become? Well, as the prophet Micah poses the question, what does the Lord require of us? Itís simple: to do justice, to love with exuberant compassion, to walk humbly with our God.

For when we follow where the wind of the Spirit carries us and when we go into the darkness guided by the light of the Spiritís flame, then we shall be the city on the hill that cannot be hid. Then we shall be like salt and light. Then our light shall shine in the darkness and there shall be light and more light until the darkness of hatred and bigotry and discrimination and poverty and injustice shall be no more. Let it be so. Amen.

Rev. Dr. David E. Ensign



[1] From Call to Renewalís Isaiah Platform. See http://www.calltorenewal.org/events/index.cfm/action/pentecost_event/item/pentecost_2004_platform.html

[2] Chris Glaser, Henriís Mantle, (Cleveland, Ohio: Pilgrim Press, 2002) 194.

[3] James Forbes, from Dec. 26, 2003 episode of Now with Bill Moyers.

[4] Bill Moyers, speech to the Call to Renewal Pentecost Gathering, Washington, DC, May 24, 2004.