Sermon from Pentecost 2026 "Birth Stories"

 

Sermon from 5/24/26 First UMC East Greenbush Acts 2:1-21

 

          I don’t always have the best memory, the past two years since we have moved have meant a lot of new people in our lives and a lot of new names and remembering them has been a struggle. But there are some things that stick clearly in my mind even as the years pass. One of those things is childbirth. My oldest is now 14 years old and yet I can picture that hospital room clearly- I remember Nurse Margory, I remember the way my husband looked at me with love and reassurance and I remember the way that experience of intensity and pain and stress brought out some interesting parts of my personality. Mostly humor, when I am nervous I tend to start making jokes and so in the delivery room I became a bit of a comedian. Whether or not I was funny I can’t say, but I thought I was.  But it also brought out another part of my personality, one that I usually try to hide better. That is, my discomfort with uncertainty.

           I remember thinking how ridiculous it was those days before labor, that I was supposed to just keep walking around and living my life with no idea of when this monumental change would come. I had to just put question marks next to everything on my calendar. So I did my best to be prepared, I planned out the worship services for the next 4 months. There would be a pastor coming to fill in, but I wanted to make sure everything was set up to run smoothly, so I remember calling families in early September when it was 70 and sunny out and asking if they would be willing to light the Advent Candle on a Sunday in December. They mostly chuckled and said yes, humoring me. My need to feel prepared and somehow manage uncertainty only got worse as I got closer to the event. I remember vividly in the delivery room the nurse saying “only a few more pushes” and I said “but exactly how many more?” and I remember the doctor saying “it won’t be much longer now” and I said “how many more minutes?” And I kept asking how many more contractions there would be and if they would get worse and how long would they last. At one point I remember the nurse saying “are you like a scientist or something?” as she explained that there were no answers to these questions.

 

          All these years later and the truth of that is still sinking in. There are no answers to many questions. There is a lot of uncertainty in life, a lot of unknown that we just can’t prepare for or plan, a lot of things on our calendars that we just have to put a question mark next to. And that can be hard and it can require faith.

 

          Today is Pentecost, this is a major holiday in the church. When our kids were young my husband and I wanted to establish some kind of tradition so that our kids would recognize the importance of Pentecost. Unlike Christmas and Easter, the secular world doesn’t make a big deal of it and so it can sometimes get overlooked or lost in the end of the school year/Memorial Day excitement. So we decided that we would always have a fire of some sort on Pentecost. Usually (if the fire precautions allowed it) we would make a fire in our little outdoor fire pit and roast marshmallows. Very controlled, very safe and very easy to extinguish. Nothing like the fire at Pentecost …

           Fire is often a symbol used to represent Pentecost … but wind is too. Pentecost is fire and wind, which we know is a wild, dangerous, unpredictable and potentially devastating combination. Having lived in Colorado for 8 years, I know well the fear and concern for wildfires that a dry windy day can bring. And fire and wind is what happened on that first Pentecost.

           It was the fiftieth day after Passover, an occasion when Jewish people would make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. And the scripture reading tells us that Jerusalem was a diverse place with “devout Jews from every people under heaven living in Jerusalem.” And it is here that a rush of “violent wind” comes and tongues “as of fire” rest on each of them and they start talking. They are all speaking in their native languages and it causes such a scene that onlookers assume they are drunk at 9am. Because how else can you explain such a wild scene? There has to be a way to explain it, make sense of it, understand it … fire from the sky, sudden wind and all these languages spoken and yet everyone can understand each other? Jesus said the Holy Spirit was coming, but did anyone predict it to look like this?

           Peter gets up and declares that these are the last days prophesized by the prophet Joel, the days before the coming of the Lord. He says that the Spirit will come upon “all flesh” not just kings and prophets. The Spirit is here so that everyone can speak to it … young, old, male, female, slave, free. It’s working and moving and speaking through all kinds of people. And that is exciting and beautiful and amazing and … dangerous. This movement is going to be tough to predict, to organize, to control. If everyone has access to the Spirit of God and everyone can prophesy … how do we keep that neat and tidy and safe and within the boundaries of what we want it to be? Sorry for all of you, like me, who like manageable and predictable … there is no controlling this. This is the Holy Spirit and like fire and like wind it can go places we do not expect and cannot control.

 
          In his commentary on this passage, Biblical scholar Gilberto Ruiz says: that many interpretations of the Pentecost event look at all these people of different languages coming together and point to the unity, that everyone can understand each other, but “this interpretation sees difference as a problem to be solved, an assumption that leads interpreters to overlook the fact that no restoration of a common language occurs in Acts 2. Instead, the Galilean disciples are heard in all the dialects represented by their audiences (verses 6, 8). What we witness, then, is the Holy Spirit validating difference and working through it, not erasing difference and working despite it. The oracle from Joel cited by Peter affirms this vision through its vivid language of “all flesh” to describe the Spirit’s permeation of persons of all genders, ages, and social status.” In other words, this is not a smoothing out of differences, but a revelation that the Holy Spirit is at work in those differences, it is an affirmation that we are all different and the Spirit works in and through and among us without having to erase those differences.

 

          This means that we cannot predict or control or make the work of the Spirit look how we want it to look. And that can be dangerous. Let’s be honest, it can be hard to claim the title Christian. There are people doing really horrible things and using that title to justify or even celebrate it. People using it to hurt and demean others, or to grab power or worship wealth, to claim superiority or to abuse. When a movement gets out of control, there are some who will grab it and use it for malicious reasons. That is the risk with opening up a movement to all, with letting the Spirit run wild, humans will find ways to corrupt.

          But if we use that to limit or ignore the true work of the Spirit then we allow that corruption to speak for what is beautiful and loving and just and good news. When people try to twist the movement for their own gain or to hurt others, they are trying to control it, manipulate it and destroy it. But when we embrace the Holy Spirit working in and through and around us we have to embrace faith, let go of our need to control and let it flow. Celebrate it, embrace it and let it flow like a rush of wind through everyone we meet. Pentecost calls us to accept the unpredictability, the wildness the uncertainty and let the fire take over our hearts.

          I remember that moment, way back when I was in that delivery room. I remember when I stopped making jokes, counting minutes, numbering breaths and asking questions. I remember when I stopped clenching my fists, fighting the pain and trying to control it. I remember letting go. It was wild and unexpected and life-changing but that was when this beautiful new life came forth. And that new life has been unexpected and uncertain and unpredictable but more beautiful than anything I could have ever planned or predicted. Pentecost is the day we call the birth of the church. It is the moment when we mark the birth of this wild movement that has spread like wildfire all across the globe and across the centuries. It came about by fire and wind and people letting the Spirit speak through them, that’s how we keep it going. That’s how we fan the flame. We dive in with faith, we let the Spirit speak through us and we celebrate and listen to what that Spirit is saying from each other. All the while trusting, trusting that it’s ok to let go, because what God is doing is so much more than what we have on our calendars.  

         

“Loved” John 14:15-21

 John 14:15-21

          If you ever want to have an awkward and uncomfortable conversation with someone, ask them if they go to church. Believe me, because I have that awkward conversation with people quite often. Not just out of the blue, but as a hospital chaplain, sometimes I am trying to discern where the patient finds community, connection or support. Also, I always ask patients if they would like prayer and in order to know how best to pray, it’s helpful to know if they practice a particular faith. And so I have tried to word the question differently, to make it as open and gentle as possible and to show that I have no ulterior motive in asking. Because people usually think you are trying to judge or convert them.  They almost always think there is something behind it. And so people often respond to that question with defensiveness, guardedness, justifications, guilt or anger. And I get it, people can be judgy or pushy, or even forceful or sneaky with attempts to convince or convert. But it makes it hard when you just genuinely want to know … without the judgement.

          It’s like when you tell people you are a pastor or sing in the church choir or volunteer at church. Often people will get awkward and start explaining why they don’t go to church, or why they missed a few Sundays or their intentions of someday going back. Sometimes they may apologize for swearing, hide their beer or tell you why they don’t like church. I just listen, and try my best to show that I am not actually someone looking to make them feel bad.

          I hear a lot of people say things like “I don’t need to go to church because I don’t need someone telling me how to talk to God, I can do that without someone up there acting like they know better” or “those people go to those churches and think they are so much better than everyone else, but they all have their own problems” or “I went to a church and this person was mean to me and hurt me and I never went back.” Or they list everything any church has ever done wrong. And it’s true … churches are full of people and people do things wrong. I have certainly encountered people in churches who have done or said hurtful things, and even people who have done really awful things. Just as I have encountered people like this outside of the church.

          But when I think of church, I think of the church I grew up in, where I learned to sing Bible songs and was welcomed by dedicated volunteer Sunday School teachers and felt safe, felt loved. I think of times when my stomach hurt with laughter while spending time with a youth group I was leading or all the folks who could no longer attend church in person and welcomed me into their homes as their pastor and told me their stories and sent me off full of love, care and sometimes sweets. I think of watching children carefully bring the light into the sanctuary as acolytes, I think of busy people coming together on a weeknight to plan ways to reach out to the community, I think of people praying for me and my loved ones, I think of seeing people feel safe enough to let their tears out, I think of closing my eyes and feeling closer to heaven as I am lifted by a choir of voices singing to God in unison. I think of all those times of feeling touched, moved, connected … loved.

          Feeling loved is an inspiring thing. In fact, it’s why we as Christians do the things we do. So often people think that we church goers are here every Sunday to earn points and feel holier than others, they feel guilty because they think they haven’t done enough to please God, they feel a distance between themselves and God because they think they haven’t earned God’s good graces. But it’s actually the opposite. We don’t do things to earn God’s love, God’s love is already there for us. God demonstrates this through Jesus Christ, it’s there for free, for everyone, no points needed. We come together in worship, we do acts of service, we care for one another as a response to that love.

          The passage from John that was read begins with this. Jesus says, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” It’s about responding from love, not earning love. And keeping the commandments of Jesus is an opportunity to respond to the love of Christ. The commandments of Christ are an invitation, to live out the love that we know and to make the Holy Spirit known.

          In this passage, Jesus is preparing the disciples for a time when he will not be physically present in the way that he is now. He says that God will give them an Advocate, some translations say Paraclete. This is the Holy Spirit who will guide, help, strengthen and comfort them. But Jesus goes on to say that the world does not see or know the Spirit, but that the Spirit will abide with them.

          So this is our call as Christians, to respond to the love of Jesus Christ by showing love to others and in doing so, others will see the Holy Spirit at work and come to know of this presence of comfort, strength and help.

          This means we do have an important role to play. As much as I do think people can be unfair in how they prejudge church-goers or Christians, the truth is, others are watching us, and we have a responsibility to act as followers of Christ. We are called to make the presence of Christ known here on earth. We are called to live out Jesus’s commandments to love others and show others that they are not alone, the Holy Spirit is here. To let others know that they are loved.

          I have always been fascinated by Psychology, so much so that my bachelor’s degree is in Psychology. I like finding what is underneath people’s thoughts, behaviors and actions and I am so very curious about how people think, react to and relate to others. But sometimes I need a break from it. I will find myself watching video clips, reading articles and listening to podcasts and learning so much about the ways in which people’s upbringings, traumatic experiences or subconscious needs are guiding what they do. But then I see love, just pure love and there really is no explanation for it. The kind of love that has no benefit to the person giving it, the kind of love that doesn’t make sense given all the heartbreak someone has been through- the kind of love that reminds you that we are so much more than our psychological traumas, animal instincts or reward driven behaviors.

Several times I have sat with spouses as they lovingly and tenderly cared for their spouse who was suffering due to some circumstance like a traumatic brain injury or disease, and will never be able to reciprocate in the same way or live out the plans they made when they got married, and still … the caregiving spouse loves, they stroke their hair, they talk about the good memories, they offer smiles, they make their spouse feel loved. It doesn’t make sense, it’s hard to explain, it’s the love that Christ demonstrates for us, the kind of love that makes the presence of the Holy Spirit known in the world.

I also see this pure love when I visit new parents right after they have had a baby. At that point most parents are pretty tired, shocked, overwhelmed, worried or dazed, but not the grandparents. In a room where the baby is crying, the new parents are sweating and stressing … off to the side I sometimes see the beaming, happy grandparents. No stress, no worries about how to raise the perfect child or which products are organic enough or how to properly install a car seat, just joy, just peace, just love. It doesn’t make sense, it’s hard to explain, it’s the love Christ demonstrates for us, God’s beloved children, the kind of love that makes the presence of the Holy Spirit known in the world.

 

Today is Mother’s Day. And I know that can bring a lot of emotions for people. Some are missing their mothers today, some are missing their children today and some have complicated relationships with their mothers. Human relationships don’t always fit our expectations or always demonstrate that perfect love that we long for. I know that I am not a perfect mother. I love my kids so much it makes my heart burst, but I am a human, and I don’t do things perfectly. Since they were born, I have prayed that somehow, even through all of my imperfections and all of the pain of the world, my children will feel that perfect, pure love that comes from Christ. The kind that doesn’t make sense, the kind that can’t be explained, the kind of love that will make the presence of the Holy Spirit known to them.

Sometimes, in my work as a hospital chaplain, the hardest part can be leaving the room. Because there are a lot of lonely people in the world and it feels sad to walk out the door, move on with my life and know that people are alone and hurting. So when I pray with patients, I always pray that they will feel the presence of the Holy Spirit in and through and around them, that they will feel held in the palm of God’s hand and know that they are not alone. Because of faith, I believe that somehow, someway in a way that can’t be explained, they are not alone, the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Paraclete that Jesus told us about, is there with them.

In May of the year 1373, Julian of Norwich experienced divine revelations from her cell attached to a small church in the town of Norwich, England. She immediately wrote these down and you can read them compiled in a book called “Showings.” Some years ago I got to go and sit in that cell where she wrote these and still, all these hundreds of years later, there is a palpable feeling of holiness in that space, a feeling that the Holy Spirit has been and still is there. These revelations she had are powerful and have captured the faith and hearts of many who have read them. They are words pouring from a heart in the depths of love. In chapter 59 she writes, “As truly as God is our Father, so truly is God our Mother, and he revealed that in everything, and especially in these sweet words where he says: I am he; that is to say: I am he, the power and goodness of fatherhood; I am he, the wisdom and the lovingness of motherhood; I am he, the light and the grace which is all blessed love; I am he, the Trinity; I am he, the unity; I am he, the great supreme goodness of every kind of thing; I am he who makes you to love; I am he who makes you to long; I am he, the endless fulfilling of all true desires. For where the soul is highest, noblest, most honourable, still it is lowest meekest and mildest.”  You can hear the rapturous tone in her writing as she writes of that love which is hard to explain, doesn’t make sense but makes the presence of the Holy Spirit known.

Jesus says “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” Let us live as a people who are loved, as a people who know we are loved – even if it doesn’t make sense and is hard to explain - and in doing so we will make the presence of the Holy Spirit known here on earth.