Bold Worship: May 28, 2023

 Year A, Pentecost                                           Acts 2:1-21                                                                           

            It started as a simple chapel service at Asbury University on Feb 8^th, where the assistant soccer coach preached a sermon on Romans 12.  After he left the worship service he texted his wife and told her that the sermon was a “total stinker.”  He left, but about 20 students stayed to pray.  Some left, but more joined.  This turned into an 11 day non-stop worship service.    Asbury University is a Christian school in the town of Wilmore Kentucky, which has a population of 6,000. This 11 day worship service attracted tens of thousands of people.  At one time, there was a line ½ mile long to get into the university’s chapel.

            One of the things that enabled word to spread about this 11 day worship service was social medial platforms like Tiktok.  People came from across the country to witness what was happening.  It was on virtually every news outlet in print, online and on TV.  Many who learned about it were thrilled.  Given the constant news that we read and hear which tells us that young people, especially Generation Z, is moving away from faith and religion, it was inspiring and heart warming to see so many young people in one place lost in worship.  And if you look at the pictures of where they were worshipping, it’s a traditional church.  There weren’t big screens or flashy effects.  They had a band, but it wasn’t anything outrageous.  All in in all, it was traditional worship with singing, praying, preaching and testimonies.  

            Yet as you can imagine, there was also a fair share of naysayers, people who were skeptical.  This was not just coming from people who were not religious. It was coming from Episcopalians, Lutherans, Presbyterians…those of us who are a little more skeptical of worship that seems unstructured and spontaneous.  Many people decided that anything that reeks of a revival must be contrived.  People said it was emotional and spiritual manipulation. 

However, there was no money being made, no flashy celebrity preachers.  Once the administration of the school got organized, they decided not to let big name pastors and musicians come in and take over. They explicitly said, “There are no celebrities here, no superstars, except Jesus.”  Still the criticism came from all sides.  There were countless articles and blogs on how we could determine whether this was a real experience of God.  Could we only know based on what the outcome was---OR---is it about how it transformed the hearts and minds of those who attended?

            This all happened in February of this year.  I read a bit about it when it was happening, but hadn’t really thought about it much since.  However, as I was reading this lesson from Acts, I found some interesting similarities.   First of all, both of these outpourings of the spirit started because people were already gathered in a place, ready and willing to worship God.  The students were at a chapel service.   The disciples were gathered in prayer.  There was also a large group who had collected in Jerusalem, apparently right around where the disciples were.  These people were Jews from many different nations, who had come together for their own holy feast, the Jewish feast of Pentecost (we took their name.) In the Jewish faith, Pentecost marks the end of the spring harvest.  It was when people came together to present the first fruits of the harvest.  It was a time to praise God and show gratitude for all God had given. 

            The other similarity is the reaction that this spontaneous worship received.  In the Acts story of Pentecost, onlookers accused the disciples of being drunk on wine.  Peter had to start his speech by saying, “Indeed, these are not drunk as you suppose, for it’s only 9am in the morning.”   What a way to start a sermon.  No one accused the students at Asbury and those who eventually joined of being drunk.  But they were accused of spiritual and emotional manipulation.  People assumed their worship couldn’t possibly be genuine…that we would only know if it was a real revival if lives and communities were transformed.  I would love to know who gets to make that determination.

            Comparing these two events, 2,000 years apart, it makes me realize that it  doesn’t matter how you worship, someone is going to accuse you of not being genuine.  When Episcopalians go visit a church with screens and bands, they often will call it a performance.  When those who are not accustomed to traditional liturgy observe our worship, they see the liturgy as performative.  They observe us reading words out of our Book of Common Prayer or our service leaflet and conclude that we cannot possibly mean what we are saying because we are reading instead of praying from the heart.

It doesn’t matter what way we worship, someone somewhere will judge us.  It’s been happening for millennia and it will continue to happen.  Sometimes I think that awareness inhibits us from talking to others about our faith.  God forbid someone calls us a hypocrite.  God forbid someone thinks that we don’t know exactly what we are talking about.  Here’s how I think that we can know the Spirit was present at Asbury University 4 months ago and in Jerusalem 2000 years ago— they didn’t let the critics stop them.  They let the spirit dictate how they were worshiping, how long they were worshipping and in the case of Acts, what they sounded like when they worshipped.

We have been hearing about the Holy Spirit for a few weeks in our readings and I spoke about it in a two sermons.  In one I said that I wasn’t sure how I felt about the images that we use on Pentecost—images like fire and wind.  Because when Jesus described the Holy Spirit, it was by saying that it abided with us, it stayed with us, the people of God.  And wind and fire…they don’t usually stick around. 

However, I think there is a place for a Holy Spirit that presents itself with wind and fire. Why? Because, it’s public.  It’s in your face.  It’s unavoidable.  We love our subtle evangelism in the Episcopal Church.  We love to say that we don’t have to talk about faith because we let our actions show how and what we believe.  Actions are important.  But the thing about Pentecost Sunday is that it was all about a very public display of faith that came in words that all who attended could understand.  That is how the Holy Spirit showed up---with wind, fire, words, comprehension and then a sermon that summed it all up. 

Where will that wind and fire take you? I hope that it will give us all some boldness, not only in action, but in speech, that we need not be ashamed of who we worship, or how we worship—that we need not  be ashamed of how Christian we are or are not—that instead we can hold on to that Holy Spirit that abides with us and gives us strength…but that we can also  let the flames and winds of Pentecost embolden us as they did the first disciples and converts—that the wind might propel us out into our neighborhoods and workplaces so that we can be the Christians (in word and action) that God has called us to be.  Where will the wind and fire take you?  I don’t know?  I hope it takes you somewhere that needs God’s love and passion and then brings you back to be fed by the Holy Spirit once more.

Salt and Dung: February 9, 2020

Year A, Epiphany 5                                                                 

Matthew 5:13-20                                                                    

            In the 20^th century, salt got a bad rap in the nutrition world.  It became connected with high blood pressure and heart disease.   Today, if you are eating hospital food, good luck finding salt.  Despite the fact that there have been numerous studies showing that salt isn’t really as bad as everyone says, we still have negative associations with it.  So it’s kind of weird when the first thing we hear in the Gospel story is, “You are the salt of the earth…” Salt isn’t particularly inspiring, at least not today. However, in the time of Jesus, salt didn’t have a bad rap.  In fact, salt was good for a lot of things.  The obvious one is what we still use salt for----seasoning.  It was also a preservative for food, which was important since they didn’t have refrigerators.  Additionally, it was sometimes mixed with manure to create fertilizer. 

And it was also used as a catalyst for fuel.  Typically when cooking, they used outdoor earthen ovens.  Wood was not easy to come by and they didn’t have easy access to other kinds of fuel.  A cheap way to create fuel was to use animal dung.  They would make it into patties and then add salt. For the outdoor oven, they would have a slab of salt under the dung patty and that would essentially be the catalyst for the fire.  At some point, the salt would lose its catalytic ability and become useless.  It would simply be thrown out, which is why Jesus said that when salt loses its taste, it isn’t good for anything.

            Thus when Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth,” he was not simply saying that we give flavor or that we preserve, he was calling us the catalyst that start a fire.  We, as followers of Christ are the ones who not only provide heat and light, but create the heat and light, enable the fire to burn. Now, you may be thinking, well he probably wasn’t thinking of Episcopalians.  We aren’t exactly known for our heat and energy.  Or, you might be thinking, well he’s definitely not talking about me.  I’m tired and over committed. I don’t have the time or the energy for fire, especially not on Sundays. 

He is talking about all of us.  This text is part of the Sermon on Mount.  He has just finished telling people, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God.  Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”  He is speaking to a crowd, most likely a crowd full of beleaguered people, people who are hungry, people who are tired, people who feel like they are anything but catalysts for fire.  He was speaking to a crowd then and he is speaking to us all now…saying the same thing.  “You are the salt of the earth.  You are the light of the world.”

            Notice that he doesn’t say, “You will be the salt of the earth if you try hard enough or if you do x, y, and z.”  No, he is saying, “You are the salt of the earth right now.”  And it’s not because you have something no one else has or that you simply have a fiery disposition.  You are the salt of the earth and the light of the world because that is what and who God created you to be.  We are born into this world to be fire.  I can’t speak for any of you, but I must confess that I have a hard time really believing this.  Because most of the time, I don’t feel fiery.  I don’t feel like a catalyst.  I don’t even feel particularly salty.  I feel kind of tired and stressed, a little overwhelmed and weary.  And given the amount of energy drinks at the store, and the ever expanding reach of Starbucks, I don’t think I’m alone in feeling weary and overwhelmed. Am I?  

            Have you ever just eaten plain salt? Meaning, you aren’t adding it to something, you are eating salt.  I hope not, because that’s kind of gross.  Salt alone is no good.  Salt is only good when it accompanies something.  Animal dung isn’t very useful, unless you add some salt, and all of a sudden, it heats an oven. These metaphors Jesus is using cannot be taken singularly.  They only work well accompanying something else.  So it is with us as Christians.  Sure, there are people who can do amazing things all by themselves.  At least, I assume there are, but I’ve never met one.  Most people find energy, power, and fulfillment in their work with other people, or with the support of other people.  So if you think you are too tired, too busy, too old, too sick, too young to be the salt of the earth, to be the catalyst that sparks the flame, you might be right.  You can’t do it alone. That’s why we have Jesus to be that support. That is why we have the community of Christians, to inspire and motivate one another.

            I witnessed this several times this week.  On Wednesday, we delivered 1594 cans of soup to the HELP food pantry.  Now, I admit, the Lutherans had more and I was a little irritated about that, but then the Lutherans helped us unload all our cans because they had more people.  We all worked together and I was reminded of the importance of Christians working together. Don’t get me wrong, we will win next year, but I am still grateful to them for motivating us and supporting us.  Then this Friday we hosted a dialogue of race in our parish hall.  The Unity Commission of Hampton Roads organized it and there were a few people from our church there.  But there were also 50 other people there who were committed to finding ways for people of all tribes, all colors to work together.  As many of you know, I have an African American son. There are times I am overwhelmed by what I don’t know and understand.  But on Friday, I was reminded that I am not alone.  And as I looked around that room, I could see there were people there who would help, who wanted to help.  All of a sudden, I didn’t feel so weary.  I felt energized and hopeful.

            Unfortunately we are currently in a culture that doesn’t encourage people who are different or who disagree to be together or even pray together.  That is a travesty, because more than ever, we need one another to inspire us, or sometimes just hold one another upright and accountable.  You are the salt of the earth. You were born to be fire.  Together, as a community here at St. John’s and in the wider Christian community, we must find a way to work together and if we can we will set a fire this world has never seen.  Once we have done that, there is no way that anyone is going to hide that fire under a bushel basket.  No, we will be that city on the hill, a city that no one will dare hide.

June 8th, 2014: Acts 2:1-21

                                               Dancing with Fire

Pentecost, Year A                                                                  

            One of the benefits of being a clergy person is the expectation that you will put thought and prayer into the big questions of our faith and our church.  Like…how much red is too much red on Pentecost Sunday?  Obviously, it’s a day for red shoes…but what about red nail polish?  But seriously…there are many questions that I mull over that are a little more serious than what to wear on Sunday.  One of the things I have been pondering is hope.  Is hope dangerous?  Sounds odd, so let me give you an example:  Let’s say you are a senior in high school and you have applied to one college that you have always dreamed of attending.  However, only a small percentage of people get in. You have to wait several months until you know whether you are accepted.  You could spend those months hoping and dreaming of getting in, or you could consider the statistics and worry the whole time about what happens if you don’t get in.  Then, let’s say you do not get accepted.  Will it be harder if you had spent those months hoping or will it be harder if you never hoped at all?

This is just one example.  I am sure you can all think of some point in your life where you have dealt with something like this.  I remember talking to a friend once about a hope I had.  She was worried it would not work out and my hopes would be crushed.  She recommended that instead I be cautiously optimistic.  It seemed wise at the time, but since then I have wondered why people never encourage others to be cautiously hopeful.  Perhaps because it is not really possible to be cautious when it comes to hope and faith.

            Yet in today’s church, we try so very hard to master the art of cautious or defensive faith.  We have enough faith to get us through, but not enough to get us hurt.  That is what makes Pentecost so out there, so wildly uncomfortable for most of us.  In Biblical times, there were three things that were considered to be the major source of power:  Human, animal and wind.  Out of all three of those, wind is probably the most uncontrollable.  Luke, the author of Acts wrote, “And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.” That must have been a pretty intense sound…almost deafening. I imagine it sounded a bit like when a jet goes overhead…except in this story there was no accounting for the source of the sound.   Then, as if that was not enough, tongues of fire appeared out of nowhere and rested on each one of the apostles.   Just imagine for a moment how terrifying that would be.  We have lighters and matches and all kinds of things that control fire.  But at this time, fire was not really a controllable substance.  It was hard to create and hard to contain.  If a fire was out of control, there was no stopping it. 

            Luke then tells the reader that each apostle was filled with the Holy Spirit and began speaking in different languages.  While I have always wanted to speak fluently in a foreign language, I am not sure I would want for it to happen that way.  It is hard to imagine that this Holy Spirit is the same spirit that Jesus gave them when he appeared to them after his resurrection.  In the Gospel reading that we heard today, Jesus gave the apostles the Holy Spirit by breathing on them and saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”  That sounds like a much more dignified way of receiving the Holy Spirit.  That would probably go over better in most of our churches.  How many of you would ask for the Holy Spirit if it meant dancing fire on your head?  Most Episcopalians won’t even consider dancing in church, let alone dancing flames of fire.

            Yet we have all kinds of prayers that we proclaim and we sing where we ask the Holy Spirit to descend on us.  We say those prayers every Sunday.  Today, at the later service, we even have extra Holy Spirit prayers because we have 2 baptisms.  Imagine that if instead of asking the baptismal candidates if they would turn to Jesus Christ and accept him as their Savior, we asked them if they were ready to dance with fire.  How do you think that would go over? We could not ask that of children, but I think we could with adults. 

            In Acts, after the fire descended and the roar of the wind died down, Peter got up to preach a sermon.  In it he quoted the prophet Joel.  God declared “that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams…”  What a vision! When Joel said it in the Old Testament, he was talking about the end of the world.  It was a bit of a doomsday vision.  But Peter reframed it.  It was not about the end, but a new beginning.

 I love the line “and your old men shall dream dreams…”  I am not sure why Joel specified dreaming for old men.  Perhaps the point was that it is never too late to have dreams, have hope even when we have every reason to believe that all hope is lost. I think that kind of dreaming is needed for all of us regardless of our gender or age.

            I have conducted some hope experiments over the last several years.  I have had hope, just to see the hope shattered.  And I have practiced cautious and skeptical optimism only to end up with the same devastating ending.  The only difference was what came before the fall.  In one situation I went through my days with a fire that burned strong.  In another, I barricaded the fire and provided only enough fuel to keep the coals burning.  While the end was the same, at least when the fire burned strong the waiting was more holy, less lonely. 

Hope, even dangerous and precarious hope is always better than cautious optimism…but only when that hope is rooted in God, in the Holy Spirit.  Because while it will always be a slightly dangerous hope, it will be holy and sacred.  It will be a hope that is a beacon in the night…a hope that gives us the courage to dance with the fire when we would rather just dwell in the ash.             

            This sermon is not about the end goal.  It’s about how we get there.  It’s about the hopes and the dreams that inspire us toward the unexpected.  I fear that organized religion does not always give us the freedom to be dreamers…to dance with the flame. In some ways, we have domesticated faith and that is why Pentecost is so important.  We celebrate Pentecost not to remember the dreams of the past, but to remind us that we need to keep dreaming, keep hoping. We proclaim our baptismal covenant not to remind ourselves of what we promised or our parents promised on our behalf, but to rekindle the flame.  Actually, we should do more than just rekindle it--we should let the flame go a little out of control.   We wear red on Pentecost to remind us of the fire, but it’s time that we do more than just remind ourselves of fire.  We have to dance with the fire, feel the heat of it and let it inspire us.  So the real question for all of us is: are you ready to dance with fire?