Reflections on the Whirlwind

Acts 2:1-21

The outpouring of the Holy Spirit in Acts 2 signals the birth of the church of Jesus Christ. I love the sound I imagine rushing through the doorway and around the believers gathered there—it must have been a whirlwind of air. Then Luke, the writer of Acts, helps us see the Supernatural—there were tongues, as of fire (v.3) and a tongue rested on each of them. Then in verse 4: All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages…

How astounding a miracle the Holy Spirit makes in this scene Luke describes—they went outside and found that people in the city could all hear their native language being spoken. If you have ever lived in another country and were immersed in another language you know the feeling of being isolated until you speak the language and there is always a kind of home-sickness to hear your native tongue. I often get to speak to fellow students from Africa and I’ve noted they still feel this way though they know their educational opportunities are here, just a few words of their ‘mother tongue’ makes them rejoice. Years ago I read a book by Catherine Marshall—a collection of her work. And in one of the essays she describes being at a city’s local Presbyterian church during Sunday worship. She is familiar with the very proper young woman who belonged to this church for years. In the middle of the service this young woman stands up and starts speaking—everyone looks around in amazement. She appears to be speaking in tongues. At the same time and older immigrant man is walking by outside and is praying to God because he is so lonely. Suddenly in front of this church he hears his native Greek being spoken. He opens the door and goes in. In broken English he translates what the young woman has said. For me Catherine Marshall brought the Acts story into the 20th century.

For me this story of languages starts way back in the Old Testament with the story of tower of Babel—that is Genesis 11:1-9. (read) From there people were spread all over the earth. Each made language families of their own. In this scene from Acts, we see the drama of unifying the people of God— According to Robert Sheffield, “Babel was undone in the speaking of God’s Word to everyone.” Through the Holy Spirit each disciple was given a separate language so that the whole crowd heard their native language spoken at the same time. This shows us what the Gospel does—the Word of God comes to us through the Holy Spirit and unifies us in Christ in a way that makes us all understand…even if we do not speak the same language.

After two thousand years in the constantly changing Church of the Triune God, the Gospel is still coming into the world. Pentecost is the celebration of the Holy Spirit and the beginning of the Mission of the Church of Christ. When the Spirit is poured out on everyone—what fantastic opportunities for discipleship arise. I think of the hymn—Arise Your Light Has Come!

I want to end with a personal example—a couple weeks ago I had a dream so real that I woke up and remembered it.  I got out of my car and walked straight into a tornado.  It was so real that I couldn't believe I was doing it even as I was doing it.  I was at peace even in the midst of the whirlwind.

This last two weeks my life has taken on the appearance of something like a whirlwind—final papers have been due, my children and I have sinus infections, my husband had been cheating on me months before he left, my old dog has a UTI…and my oldest sister called from Albuquerque mid-week to tell me of my step-mom’s death. She took the time to tell me the story of Mom's last day and gave me some peace about that. I told her I was writing a sermon and she said “well, tell those folks that the Holy Spirit is alive and well and working among us.”

I said, ‘what happened?’ She said when she went to the Pharmacy in the middle of the night to get mom some more morphine, the pharmacist, who had never met her before, grabbed her hand. He said ‘we’re praying for you.’ She said, “it’s a big city, how did he even know I am a Christian?” I said “he knew, Beth”

“Yes,” she said, “the Holy Spirit told him somehow.” I think sometimes as Christians we are too hesitant to talk about the Holy Spirit’s work in our lives. It doesn’t need to be that way. If the Holy Spirit is poured out on all people I think we might need to honor that when it happens. We are all Lutherans here who believe we are called to be disciples in Christ by the Holy Spirit. We live our lives of faith by the power of the Holy Spirit.

 John 14:26-27--But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.  Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.  I do not give to you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

Mayfair

Ella stayed home from her daddy's this weekend so that she could take part in her school's Mayfair fundraiser.

First thing was facepainting and a balloon flower.

She had a blast--and each game she played, she got another charm for her necklace.  She loved the darts and angry bird games, and won the penny toss.  She played bean bags three times.  She went through the obstacle course blow up thing and met a friend from back at pre-school.

Best Ever

This has been the best Mother's Day I've ever had.  This morning they woke up and ran to me with their cards and said Happy Mother's Day Mommy!

Last night they kept me out of the living room to make them--and then Ella hid them in the dress up box.  It wasn't too long and Callie came out and handed me the cards--when I realized I turned my head and called Ella.  I said I'd like to keep them a surprise, could she hide them again...and she did.  They loved making me surprise cards.

We got to go to our Sunday school classes and worship together again for the first time since Easter.  They dressed up and each wanted to wear flip-flops, but there was a bit of a chill in the air.  Callie danced during the choir's anthem.  Callie is close to needing the meeting with pastor to take her first communion.  I'll have to find out how they do that now that we've joined St. James up here.

Then we had a play-date in the yard.  It was a great 3 1/2 hours of pitching softball, riding bikes, marching musical instruments around...and duck-duck goose.  Even the dogs came out to lay in the sun for a little while and visit the kids.  

When we came inside, Ella worked on something secret in the living room coloring table while I made dinner--mac n'cheese, butter beans, companari tomatoes and french green beans.  Simple, but kids loved it.  Afterwards Ella surprised me with this book--here are three of the pages--the second one our neighbors and our family outside as she imagines it.  The third page is Callie, me, and Ella.  We read extra books and didn't watch television at all today.  I had a small challenge as I hadn't been able to sleep last night, but I so, so enjoyed their genuine love and their hugs and gifts from their hearts to mine just kept making me realize how happy I can be just being a mom.

Happy mother's day to all the women in my life who have been like mothers to me...and a few men too.  And to my mothers, special blessings.

Catching up on Spring

I made Fridays dress day...

Ella's drawing of Strawberry Shortcake.

Her daddy promised a princess bike when Callie was completely pottie trained.  Yay Callie.

at soccer academy.  warm enough for a blanket.  Callie chopping wooden fruit...

Ella playing goalie

Tenebrae Service

There has always been something in me that doesn't appreciate drama for the sake of drama.  I dread being dragged in and made to give a reaction.  Mine may not be appropriate. I guess I don't need to say I'm no actress.  Something about being forced to cry really ticks me off somehow.  It is as if in a given situation I cry that I am losing.  It only takes a few years of therapy to admit that.  Anyhow.

All that in explanation of this.  Here I am in the second year of seminary and having been Lutheran for at least 6 years, and I have never been to a Good Friday service.  It might have been because when Keith and I first converted the pastor was talking up his Tenebrae  Service and it included each person in attendance nailing a nail into the cross to represent the sin he/she had committed.  Symbolic.  I got it.  And yet I was not ready to feel that.

I also did experience visiting a Church of God on Easter when the whole of Passion was played out before me.  Instead of getting a good cry out of it, I was horrified that anyone would try to 'play' out for me what is an extremely violent, cruel death.  I don't need anyone to act that out for me to understand the shame, the emptiness.  And some part of me
resented that someone tried to 'act like' Jesus.  Because that is not possible.  I'm sure it was well-intentioned though.  Probably for others it was a relief because we all know the whole story and it probably ended with being raised up again.  Curious that I don't remember that part.

So Thursday after the foot washing service, my friend Jane challenged me.  She said, "you've never been to a Good Friday service and when you go on internship you will have to do one." Oh, yeah, how simple and true.  So then I thought about how I would do that never having been to a Lutheran Good Friday service.  So yesterday I went ahead.

And there was a sadness about the service that coated everything.  But no one tried to act Jesus' part.  We just read John's account of the last three days.  In between each passage was a different version of the Eucharistic hymn 'Lamb of God'.  There was a sermon, after which I thought--the less said the better--and then came the cross.  Two of the students carried it to the front of the chancel and set it down.  In silence.  The music was an effective as anything.  Each hymn spoke of our part in the death of Christ and ultimately his choice to stop us.  (Oh, Father We Have Wandered, Although I Speak with Angel's Tongue...)

We left in silence.  And I thought, wow, that was appropriate in every way.  To honor the story without forcing the emoting.  Honorable.  Like a funeral that helps people understand the loss but understand also that God is there.  Now I am willing to go to another service like that.  It's understandable and important and I'll honor that part of the story too.

Girls Ready for Spring

Uncomfortable Change

As difficult as separations can be, we have stayed together this last year in the same house thinking it would be best for the kids.  That has been more and more difficult.  While sometimes it is best to work through problems, there seem to be no solutions at this point and only compounded problems--they are like stones on a wall between us, as we let them sit indefinitely.  

We hoped to grow better at communicating; instead we do less communicating.  Like many couples, only one of us is willing to see a counselor.  We have an unhealthy pattern of communication with each other, though both of us do well in the other areas of our lives.  At this point we are parents first and then our careers and everything else that used to be warm and compassionate has grown cold.

So Keith has found a job at his hometown hospital in Virginia and will be moving in with his parents in the next month.  We hope that sharing our girls will be a healthier compromise for us.   As we are working through this challenging time, please keep us and the girls in your prayers.  We love them very much.