A Fourth Church Sermon by Dana Ferguson

May 23, 1999 | 9:30 and 11:00 a.m.

Past, Present, and Future

Dana Ferguson
Associate Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

1 Corinthians 12:4–11
Acts 2:1–21

About a year and a half ago, Carol Allen, one of the associate pastors here at Fourth Church, received a phone call on a Saturday afternoon inquiring about Fourth Church. The caller had many questions. Among them was, “Do you speak in tongues at Fourth Church.” “No,” replied Carol. I don’t know exactly what kind of explanation she gave but I bet it was a Pauline sort—explaining as did Paul to the Corinthians that yes, we do believe in a great power of the Holy Spirit. But, we believe the benefit of that Spirit moving among us should be channeled in actions that reach and touch many.

Carol attended worship here at Fourth the next morning. It happened to be the first time I led worship here. Calum MacLeod and I along with John Buchanan led worship that day. The sound of a slow Southern drawl and a deep Scottish brogue made Carol rethink the answer to the question, “Do we speak in tongues?” “Well, maybe I answered incorrectly” Carol reported. “Maybe the answer is yes.”

As I prepared for this sermon, I couldn’t help but think of Carol telling that story and to also think that there is something a little appropriate about the worship leaders today on Pentecost. A Southern drawl, a Scottish brogue, and the clear tongues of two former Southwesterners. Well, folks, I think this is it. This is as close as we Presbyterian may get to a real Pentecost—a real speaking in tongues. But, just because speaking in tongues isn’t part of our Presbyterian heritage doesn’t mean we don’t believe in Pentecost and it’s impact and value to the church. For you see, without the event of Pentecost, we cease to be the church. For on that Pentecost long ago, the spirit was given to a bedraggled group of Jesus’ followers in his physical absence—poured out to give the church the power to be God’s people. This Holy Spirit is in fact what gives us our being—our life as a community. It is what ties all of us in all of our diversity together as the people of God.

Our challenge is to make friends with this Spirit—to listen for that voice of God in our midst and to follow. The Holy Spirit challenges us—our will, our drive, our need to be in control. When William Faulkner received the Nobel Prize in Stockhom, he gave a speech praising the human spirit. He said words to this effect, “I believe in the ultimate victory of the human spirit.” The human spirit can be one of our best attributes as individuals and as a community. But, it can also be our greatest challenge as Christians and as a church. For it is the human spirit which often keeps us from being willing to see and hear and feel the Spirit moving among us. And, it is the same human spirit which in times of great difficulty clenches its fist in rage at God, in defiance and rebellion against the creator. The human spirit and the Holy spirit. At times they have been at odds, at times they have danced together, even encouraged one another and they have resisted one another. And, yet, the Holy Spirit has prevailed. It prevailed on a creation day long ago when it swept over the formless void and created the heavens and the earth. It prevailed one Pentecost long ago when the church was born. And, it prevails time and again when the people of God gather to serve God.

A few weeks ago, I spent time leading a conference in Albuquerque, New Mexico. One of the leaders was a friend I had known a few years. I had known that Ann had encountered tough times in her life but I didn’t know the details of her story. On my last night in Albuquerque, Ann said to the five or six of us gathered there at diner, “I feel like I need to share with you why I’m so passionate about our being involved in ministering to the families of prison inmates.” She began a long and amazing story. Some 15 or so years ago, when her four children were very young, her husband was charged and convicted of drug trafficking—charges that at the time she was convinced were totally false. She recounted her life as the spouse of a convicted felon. It’s a long story of being ignored and being avoided and being abandoned. Her account of her first visit to her husband in prison gives you just a glimpse into her life.

She packed up four boys to drive four or five hours to visit their father. At the end of visiting hours, they returned to their car to discover the keys locked inside. Ann panicked. She had planned out their journey with great care. Her youngest child, then an infant, was on oxygen. The tank would only last a few more hours and they had a long journey ahead. She gathered her family and went back to the prison. She had finally ascended the 50 or so steps up to the front door holding in her arms her infant, shepherding along three other young boys and dragging behind her an oxygen tank. She was greeted by a corrections officer who shouted at her, “Get out of here lady. Visiting hours are over.” She tried to explain her dilemma. He refused to listen, telling her time and again that visiting hours were over. “Looking back, I can’t believe I said this,” tells Ann, “But I was so frustrated.” She looked at the corrections officer and said, “You mean to tell me that there isn’t a single person in all of this prison who can break into my car?” He didn’t see the humor in it. But, he finally did allow her to use the phone and call for help. Ann’s story didn’t get any better. They lost their family business, their home, and much of their life. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that this could be the story of Ann. You need to know a few things about her to understand. She’s one of those people you meet and immediately know you are in the presence of the Spirit. She exudes it. She’s vibrant and hospitable and gentle and courageous. Her spirit is a tough one. One that could survive pain and loss. But her gratitude for her life, her thanksgiving for the many blessings amazes me. It amazes me that she hasn’t spent much of her life clenching her fists at God in anger.

“How did you do it? How did you live through it all without becoming a bitter, tired, angry person, Ann?” “The church.” she said without any hesitation. You see her human spirit could get her through but it was the Holy Spirit that turned it all around for her. Her human spirit didn’t battle the divine. Instead, it waited on it, believed in it, and relied on it to make life different—to make life beautiful in the midst of hardship; to make life harmonious in the midst of challenge; to make life rich in the midst of the unknown.

“But what about your boys, Ann?” Again the answer was simple, “The church.” I remember one summer when I took the youth group to deliver meals on wheels. My boys were then part of that group. The woman who normally took the route rode with us. When we arrived at Mr. Flores’ house, she told us that only one of us would need to get out. “He doesn’t speak English.” She said. “only Spanish. And in the three years I’ve been delivering meals to him, he’s never spoken.” She gave these instructions, “Just pass the meal to him through the bars of the wrought iron door. “Well, that wouldn’t do for Ann. “Oh no, It says here that it’s his birthday. And we have this little cupcake we can give him.” So, she herded the whole group to his front door and they sang happy birthday when he opened the door. Then Stuart, Ann’s son, passed the cupcake to Mr. Flores. The eyes of this 90 year old man filled with tears. He began to speak to them. . . in English. But it wouldn’t have mattered what language for the message of gratitude was clear. “No one has remembered my birthday in years.” he exclaimed. “Not even my family.” It was a Pentecost moment. The power of the Spirit transforming the gift of a song and a cupcake into the love of a community. A Pentecost moment.

“That’s how I raised my boys including them in the wonder of the church.” She believes it my friends. She believes in that power of the Holy Spirit—that power to change life—to revive life—to shape it and renew it. She believes it and she lives it and Pentecost happens in her life. She’s blessed she tells. The blessing isn’t in the material things that we are often tempted to count. The blessing is in faith—in faith that believes in Pentecost. That believes that that same Spirit that moved a little band of bedraggled disciples years ago still lives and moves and calls. It is in that belief that we find blessings.

It didn’t just happen one Pentecost long ago. It happens again and again. Fifteen hundred years after Pentecost, the church began to languish. There was widespread corruption, abuse of power by the church. The church had become wealthy, complacent. A man named Francis, St. Francis of Assissi, turned his back on wealth and privilege. Later, an Augustian monk in Germany, Martin Luther attacked, called a church back to its Biblical roots. You know the rest of the story of the reformation of the church—the Holy Spirit prevailed. A Pentecost moment.

Eighteenth-century England was going through the trauma of urbanization and the first industrial revolution. Alcoholism was a plague upon the land. Poverty degraded the lives of millions. The church seemed far removed from these tragedies—remote, privileged, cold. A priest in the Church of England named John Wesley felt his heart strangely warmed. He began a dramatic revival that swept through England and prompted the first great awakening in the churches of America. The Holy Spirit prevailed.

It was the Spirit that moved a handful of believers in Chicago to found the North Church in 1848 and the Westminster Church in 1853 and that then brought those congregations together in the 1870s to become Fourth Presbyterian Church. Our church is one that brings great evidence of the power of the Holy Spirit working and moving. A grand structure was built to house this congregation. After one worship service, it was destroyed in the Chicago fire. The congregation at the time consisted of 130 families. 125 of them lost their homes in the fire. Certainly it was only by the power of the Holy Spirit that they were able to rebuild their church. A Pentecost moment. The list of individuals that were moved by the sprit and served God in this congregation is long. Fourth has supported the establishment and health of such entities as Presbyterian Hospital which latter came to be part of the Rush—Presbyterian—St. Luke’s Medical Center; Erie Neighborhood House; the Christian Industrial League; Presbyterian Homes; and a string of Presbyterian Churches around the city. And then our own outreach ministries—tutoring which began in the 60s; the Counseling Center; the Social Service Center; the Center for Older Adults; the Center for Whole Life in Cabrini-Green; the Guatemala Connection. The list goes on and on.

We have a rich history—a story of the Holy Spirit equipping believers for the work of Christ. And, it goes on. Two weeks ago at a meeting of the Session, two of our members shared that they have responded to a call by the Presbyterian Church (USA) to be a part of the efforts to assist Kosovo refugees. Bob and Dahlia Baker have made a commitment to spend three years in the Balkans supporting the many who have lost their homes and much of their lives. Dahlia lived in a refugee camp in Germany as a child. She told the Session of her journey here to the USA. A family in East Lansing, Michigan made it possible for her family—two sisters, mother, father, and grandfather—to come to America after WWII. “It’s time to return the generosity,” she explained to the Session. The work of the spirit to move two people comfortable in their Chicago surrounding—their home and their careers and their family—to leave all including grandchildren to serve God. A Pentecost moment.

Preparing for this sermon, I spent some time reading A Light in the City, a beautiful book which highlights the history of Fourth Church. I stopped reading when I read this paragraph. When Elam Davies, pastor of this church from 1961–1984 first arrived in Chicago, he was met at the airport by reporters, “Dr. Davies,” he was asked, “you must know that Fourth Church has a reputation as a congregation of rich and influential people, but those people are all gone. What makes you think that there will be a church on that corner ten years from now?” “It is not the prominence of the people that creates a church,” Dr. Davies replied, “It is the activity of the Holy Spirit.”

And, that is our challenge—to be friends with that spirit—to be open to the power of the Holy Spirit—to allow that spirit to challenge our human spirit—to live believing that that Spirit can change our lives—transform our lives—as individuals and as a congregation. Our charge is this. . . to live as if anything is possible by the power of the Holy Spirit—to believe it and to live it—to live in full anticipation and confidence that Pentecost is a moment of the past and of the present and of the future. All to God’s glory and honor and praise. Amen.