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Sunday, June 9, 2019 | 9:30 and 11:00 a.m.

What’s the Deal with the Holy Spirit?

"Big Questions" Sermon Series

Rocky Supinger
Associate Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Matt Helms
Associate Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Psalm 104:24–34, 35b
Acts 1–2 (selected verses)

All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?”

Acts 2:12


Before he was taken up, working in the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus instructed the apostles he had chosen.  After his suffering, he showed them that he was alive with many convincing proofs. He appeared to them over a period of forty days, speaking to them about God’s kingdom. While they were eating together, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem but to wait for what the Father had promised. He said, “This is what you heard from me: John baptized with water, but in only a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.”

As a result, those who had gathered together asked Jesus, “Lord, are you going to restore the kingdom to Israel now?”

Jesus replied, “It isn’t for you to know the times or seasons that the Father has set by his own authority. Rather, you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”

After Jesus said these things, as they were watching, he was lifted up and a cloud took him out of their sight. While he was going away and as they were staring toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood next to them. They said, “Galileans, why are you standing here, looking toward heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way that you saw him go into heaven.”

Then they returned to Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives, which is near Jerusalem—a sabbath day’s journey away.  When they entered the city, they went to the upstairs room where they were staying. Peter, John, James, and Andrew; Philip and Thomas; Bartholomew and Matthew; James, Alphaeus’s son; Simon the zealot; and Judas, James’ son—all were united in their devotion to prayer, along with some women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers. (Acts 1:2–14, Common English Bible)

●      ●     ●

I never considered myself to be a gifted person. When Jesus first called me out on that boat to be one of his disciples, I thought, “Why me?” I don’t come from an overly religious family. I’m not well-off, well-connected, or well-known. And, to be honest, I’m not even particularly comfortable speaking in front of a group of people. But from the first time that I heard Jesus preach, I knew that I wanted to follow him. It wasn’t about the miracles—as amazing as those were. My devotion came from something deeper. It was a sincere belief and a hope in the world that he had come to usher in.

When I looked at the world, all I could see was brokenness: thousands without basic necessities, like food and water or a roof over their heads, and hundreds of thousands more just scraping by day-to-day. Anger and violence claiming young lives before they ever had a chance to flourish. A political system in Rome that only benefited the rich and powerful. I wanted it to be different. To be better.

When I heard Jesus say that “the last shall be first, and the first shall be last,” I heard a promise of a different type of world. When he reduced the 613 commandments in the Torah to 2: to love God and to love our neighbor, I was cut to my core by its simple challenge. And who was our neighbor? Young and old, male and female, rich and poor, Jews and Greeks, even Samaritans. I’ll admit that it felt idealized, but it was the type of world that I believed in, and Jesus was the leader I wanted to follow.

After he was crucified, it felt like that dream of a new world died too, that even the one I thought would be our Messiah couldn’t stand against the powers that be. But after the Easter miracle, when he appeared to a small handful of us, that hope was reborn. Jesus, our leader and Messiah was back—here to bring the transformation that we had been waiting and hoping for throughout his ministry. Both I and the others—Peter, Mary, James, and Joanna among them—fully expected Jesus to lead us into this next chapter, to bring God’s kingdom into being on earth just as he had done in heaven. And then he told us he was leaving.

It wasn’t for us to know the times or seasons that God had set, Jesus said, but we would be given the power of the Holy Spirit, would be appointed as witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. And just like that, he was lifted up.

I remember us looking in shock, first up and then at one another. Did he really just ascend to heaven?! Is that possible? But that shock soon turned into a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Was Jesus being serious about us being witnesses? Why us? We were not scholars or expert orators. We were fishermen. Tax collectors. Tradesmen. There was no world in which we could deliver Jesus’ message of good news better than he could.

I don’t want to speak for any of the other disciples, but I had signed up to follow and listen to Jesus, not to be a leader. I barely knew anything about the Torah. I had never been outside of Judea. My primary qualification, as with many of us, was being called from my boat a few years ago. So, left dumbfounded and uncertain about what would be next, we went back to Jerusalem and gathered together, holding one another in prayer as we waited for whatever might be coming next.

●      ●     ●

When Pentecost Day arrived, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound from heaven like the howling of a fierce wind filled the entire house where they were sitting.  They saw what seemed to be individual flames of fire alighting on each one of them. They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages as the Spirit enabled them to speak.

There were pious Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem.  When they heard this sound, a crowd gathered. They were mystified because everyone heard them speaking in their native languages.They were surprised and amazed, saying, “Look, aren’t all the people who are speaking Galileans, every one of them? How then can each of us hear them speaking in our native language? Parthians, Medes, and Elamites; as well as residents of Mesopotamia, Judea, and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the regions of Libya bordering Cyrene; and visitors from Rome (both Jews and converts to Judaism), Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the mighty works of God in our own languages!”  They were all surprised and bewildered. Some asked each other, “What does this mean?” Others jeered at them, saying, “They’re full of new wine!” (Acts 2:1–13 CEB)

●      ●     ●

As long as I live, I will never forget that day. The sight and sound of it all almost defies description—from the outpouring of languages to the sight of what looked like fire resting above us. Even looking back, I struggle to make sense of it all, but what was clear is that after that Pentecost Day, things would never be the same. Jesus had long promised that we would have an Advocate, the Spirit of truth to guide and empower us. His words didn’t register with us at the time, but in the wake of his departure and our expanded mission, they seemed vital. What exactly was this arrival of all about?

Those smarter than I saw connections to the scriptures as we discussed the events of Pentecost in the days that followed. Someone questioned whether those tongues of fire had anything to do with the burning bush, when God appeared to Moses and ushered in a new relationship and era between God and the Hebrew people: perhaps we too were living into a new relationship with God? Others noted similarities to the act of creation, as God’s spirit once swept over the face of the waters as God brought everything into being: perhaps we were witnesses to a sort of new creation? But for me, one of the most fascinating parallels was to the Tower of Babel in the book of Genesis. I can’t claim to have given that passage much thought before, but the cacophony of sound and tongues on Pentecost was a reminder of how often when we gather, we gather as a people divided: divided by location and language, circumstance and culture.

Perhaps Pentecost was the promise of something that transcended the small divisions that we set amongst ourselves: an appeal to our common humanity using this new language of the Spirit. When those who were present began to hear Peter and others speaking in their own language, I once again became hopeful in the promise of a different type of world. Of one humanity known and loved and claimed as God’s children. Of a world that didn’t demonize the other but instead embraced them as brothers and sisters in Christ.

For all the chaos and confusion of Pentecost, it also came rushing in as an inspiration and a holy challenge. This was a reordering of who we were meant to be and what we were to be about as followers of Jesus. This was the start of a new era—an empowering of each of us to undertake the vital work of ministry in this world. For far too long I had been content to sit on the sidelines as I watched and listened to Jesus’ preaching and teaching and miracles. But when he left, I began to wonder if I was being called to more.

Much of this reflection came to me well after the fact, of course. We rarely understand these sort of earth-shaking, transformative experiences in the moment. On the day of Pentecost I, like everyone else, was initially dumbfounded by everything going on around me, so I was thankful for Peter’s willingness—or, more accurately I suppose, inspiration—as he got up to speak.

●      ●     ●

Peter stood with the other eleven apostles. He raised his voice and declared, “Judeans and everyone living in Jerusalem! Know this! Listen carefully to my words! These people aren’t drunk, as you suspect; after all, it’s only nine o’clock in the morning! Rather, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

In the last days, God says,
I will pour out my Spirit on all people.
   Your sons and daughters will prophesy.
   Your young will see visions.
   Your elders will dream dreams.
Even upon my servants, men and women,
   I will pour out my Spirit in those days,
   and they will prophesy.

I will cause wonders to occur in the heavens above
   and signs on the earth below,
   blood and fire and a cloud of smoke.
The sun will be changed into darkness,
   and the moon will be changed into blood,
   before the great and spectacular day of the Lord comes.
And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

. . . When the crowd heard this, they were deeply troubled. They said to Peter and the other apostles, “Brothers, what should we do?”

Peter replied, “Change your hearts and lives. Each of you must be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. Then you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. This promise is for you, your children, and for all who are far away—as many as the Lord our God invites.”

Those who accepted Peter’s message were baptized. God brought about three thousand people into the community on that day.

The believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the community, to their shared meals, and to their prayers. (Acts 2:14–21, 37–42, CEB)

●      ●     ●

After Peter had finished speaking, I felt convicted to my core. I had been content to follow, to observe Jesus’ ministry from a safe distance. But now that God’s Spirit had been poured out on all people, we were not only inspired but called to be a part of building the world that Jesus came to bring into being. I never considered myself to be a gifted person, but the promise of the Spirit’s arrival at Pentecost was a promise that what little I had would be more than enough to serve God with the Spirit’s help. So all I was left with was a lingering question: what was God calling me to do in this moment?

Peter had quoted the prophet Joel in his sermon, saying “the young would see visions and the elders would dream dreams”; I had long been dreaming of a different world, of a world not ravaged by poverty, violence, and a lack of opportunity, but for far too long I had been asking and hoping for someone else to bring my dream into reality. But changing the world doesn’t rest solely on our leaders; it rests on us. That is the promise and challenge of Pentecost.

Changing lives and towns and cities is going to take you and me and disciples not just here but around the world, most of whom we will never even meet. And together, we are the church—Christ’s hands and heart and feet in this world. Together we are being called out of our normal routines and places to witness to Christ’s love and make it known. Together we are called to reframe our vision, to bear the fruits of God’s Spirit in our lives, and to be a part of the shared future that God is building, not only around but through us as we claim our role as Christ’s disciples.

So what is God calling you to do in this moment? How will you be a witness to Christ’s love in this world? If those questions scare you a bit—good! They scare me, too. It’s easy to be overwhelmed by the brokenness we see all around us. It’s easy to fall into cynicism and believe that nothing we do matters. It’s easy to turn a blind eye to the needs of those around us and focus only on our family and friends. I get it. I still do all those things far more often than I’d like to admit. But being Christ’s disciple was never meant to be easy, and following Christ will sometimes ask of us more than we feel that we have to give. The promise of Pentecost, though, is that through the help of God’s Spirit, we are enough.        

Friends, I’m standing here before you today telling you not to wait for someone else to bring your dreams of a better world into reality. Know that through God’s Holy Spirit you have been called to make a difference in this world—to spread and share God’s love through not only your words but your actions. The world needs you. This city needs you. Our neighbors need you.

You may not feel gifted, but I promise you that you are. Your age, ability, income, or any of those other things that we’re often judged by, don’t matter. God’s Spirit has come for all people. As Peter said, “That promise is for you, your children, and for all who are far away—as many as the Lord our God invites.” In Christ, we are known, claimed, and loved deeply by God, and because of the Spirit, we are strengthened, inspired, and empowered to be Christ’s body in this world.

So how will you serve? How will you give? How will you love? Our world needs those things now more than ever; so through the Spirit’s help, may it indeed be so. Amen.

Sermon © Fourth Presbyterian Church

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