Musical Prelude and Service.

Acts 2:1-21
Perhaps I should begin by admitting that today’s reflection is structured as something of a confessional. No fear, there is nothing scandalous here, but some sense of issues I can find myself struggling with.
“Use your words, Warner.” “Name your emotions, Warner.” “Don’t hide behind the same words and emotions all the time.” “Go deeper than everything is good. Or it’s fine. Or I guess I’m feeling frustrated.”
These were all some of the challenges posed to me by my mentor, or supervisor during my time as a student minister. She challenged me to be honest about my emotions. What was I feeling during various moments and sometimes difficult experiences early in my time of ministry?
Looking back with honesty, as much as I want to say I welcomed these challenges, I also resisted this process on occasion. No one wants to look that deeply into the mirror of who you are and what you are truly feeling all the time. But it is a critical part of learning how to be the best pastor, you can be. And being honest it remains a process.
I mention this because of a few experiences and observances for me in recent weeks.
Recently, I observed someone carrying a handbag with the statement “We love crying in public,” written upon it. For some reason that stood out for me. Acknowledging that willingness or openness to showing your emotions seemed, at that time, poignant.
Perhaps because around the same time I was witnessing, yet again, a need to sit and listen to various different people name the way the church – not Grace United in particular, but “the church” in general as it is so often named, caused incredible harm to individuals and communities in general.
From people being told they were wicked or sinners, or depraved due to their sexual orientation, to people who were physically abused for a variety of reasons; including coming in contact with people who took advantage of a position of power, to people teaching what I consider a twisted version of the Gospel message. I have found myself over the years regularly listening to people share the myriad of ways religion has abused people in emotional, spiritual and physical ways.
And I will confess that on a regular basis, I have yearned to shout out loud and clear that not all churches behave in this way. Not all churches proclaim such messages of loathing and shame.
We are not all like that.
And I will also confess, that I am frequently left feeling angry and sad and have wondered often if there is a language somewhere that has found a way of blending these different emotions to construct a word that successfully evokes the full range of emotions I feel at these times. Because I will admit I am often at a loss to adequately describe what I feel when I seem to be compelled to apologize on behalf of my faith for the incredible harm committed and that continues to be committed by men who wear the same collar that I do, but who also feel no compunction whatsoever to repent for what I truly believe is sin.
I cannot offer specifics of my recent experiences. They are not my stories to tell. But they fall into the common general categories. Attacks over sexuality and gender. Misogyny. Racism. Interpretation of scripture that focuses on rigid interpretation that encourages shame and punishment and allows little or no room for love and compassion, never mind a sense of true justice and peace.
So, why do I bring all of this up on a day when we are called to celebrate the birth of the church?
On this day of Pentecost when we remember how the spirit moved in and among the Apostles and drove them out into the street to proclaim the good news of Christ’s resurrection and a message of God’s unending and all-encompassing love? Doing so in a multitude of languages.
Because events in my life have once again reminded me that as much as sharing the good news of God’s love is an act of joy and one that is oh, so important, it is also one that requires constant vigilance. It is often tiring, and it is one that also brings heart ache and heart break and can also be incredibly frightening.
The stories of the Apostles and those who came after them speak of the joys, but also the struggle, the pain, and the threats that they endured. My own experiences pale in comparison, but I have certainly my own bumps along the road.
Because, yes, as I said, I regularly wish I could interrupt someone to say, no, that is not what I hear in scripture. No that is not what I was taught it means to be Christian. But rarely, if ever, has that been the appropriate response to the situation. What I am most often called to be in that moment is a compassionate ear that must listen as someone voices their fears and their hurt. My presence in those situations is God placing me there to learn, to hear how this world all too often, in their name, has wounded individuals and community. I wish I could say I have always got it right.
Pentecost is a time when the spirit drove Christ followers out into the streets to speak of God’s love. To speak in a host of languages so that all who listened heard in the words that they knew best. The gospel was and is spoken in a wild mix of accents and languages. It is sung in a medley of tunes and rhythms. It is experienced in a kaleidoscope of colours.
In his book The Spirit, Michael Welker speaks of Pentecost as a radical subversion of the empire’s insistence that there be one language and one voice of authority, culture, and religion. While the empire may have acknowledged and encouraged the worship of a great many gods, it was all part of a system that also bent to the power, authority and supremacy of the emperor, who claimed all his subjects.
Pentecost tells us God comes to us where we are, speaking to us in our own tongues, in our own styles. Receiving us no matter where we are, what we look like, what clothes we wear, what songs we sing or who we love.
I see Pentecost as a time that celebrates our freedom in Christ. Our freedom to be who God calls us to be. Who God is calling us to be. It is also an acknowledgement that we are often in a constant process of discerning that call – that we are hearing that message over and over and over and perhaps hearing it anew again and again and again.
But it is also a time that calls us to healing. It is a time to name the fact tat this world has harmed a great many people. That perhaps, in fact, all of us have been wounded by the world. But maybe some of us have not been truly heard when they cried out in pain. And so it could be, when we hear someone cry out in pain, the response shouldn’t be, “but we didn’t wound you, it was someone else”; but simply “I hear you and I weep with you”.
Let me be clear; this is not a call to absolute silence. When someone is telling us of their hurts, we need to listen, but there are other times when we should not be silent. There are times when we cannot be still.
In the face of violence and hatred, may the spirit move us to voice our anger. When we witness oppression and attempts to silence the marginalized, may we be moved to speak. When we see or hear of others being wounded may we voice our own heartbreak.
And when confronted by fear of the reactions of others, may God’s spirit bless us with the courage to work with Christ with compassion and strength for the coming of God’s kin-dom.
The spirit moved in and trough the Apostles on Pentecost and the church was born. It became a visible sign of Christ’s body, active in the world. Sadly, tragically the church has often been used –
whether in ignorance or for the enrichment of many people – to exploit and to harm; to persecute and to exclude those who don’t seem to fit. As a result, our call to work for the healing of the world has often been hampered at the very least.
But the spirit keeps moving. The spirit keeps calling. The spirit keeps nudging us to continue working to be Christ’s body hard at work for the healing of God’s world. To keep opening our arms and our doors; to open our hearts, our eyes, and our ears that we may witness, hear, and love our siblings as they call out.
So that we can truly live out Christ’s gospel message and when it is our time to speak, we may truly say we are a gospel people, we love you, we welcome you, we are one with you. Thanks be to God.

Music provided with permission through licensing with CCLI License number
2701258 and One License # A-731789