“Open Wide the Doors – And go Outside”
Have you ever been so wound up – so excited about something – that you just couldn’t hold yourself back? As children, we had a lot of these times I think – just cast your mind back to when you were little and Christmas or summer vacation was just around the corner. Remember how excited you were? Yet as adults, we don’t have a lot of these kinds of experiences. There is something about the maturing process that kind of keeps our passions in check. God knows that being a grown up is not always easy. Maybe we got this way because living life as an adult is filled with a lot of “have to” and “must do’s”. Perhaps we have learned the bitter lessons that come when our dreams and our passions meet opposition, or even worse, those somewhat subtle eye rolls that people are quick to give when one of us gets too excited about one thing or another. (If you’ve ever shared life with an 11 year old, then you know what I’m talking about.). So even if we’re not too tired to dream, we sometimes are a little leery about sharing our dreams with others. And, quite honestly, when we look around the world and see the struggles, and the wars, and the violence, and the environmental degradation – it’s hard to muster any kind of positive energy at all – let along passion.
Yet our story from Acts is a story filled with passion and exuberance. It is filled with people heading out into the streets, and speaking to anyone that would listen, about all these wonderful things they were experiencing. Those first disciples had an experience of the Spirit, and it pushed them out from behind their locked doors – out into the streets – and they, and the world, hasn’t been the same since.
There is something quite beautiful and scary and powerful in the story of that first Pentecost. We don’t always see those things of course. Part of the problem is that we hear this story every year. The story has become too familiar – and like anything we are over familiar with – we tend to tame, or smooth out the jagged and shocking bits. Plus, we are modern folk with modern sensibilities – and so our minds immediately go to things like “I wonder if the spirit was like real fire? I wonder about that wind? Did everybody feel it? And what about that language thing? In our wonderings, and in our over familiarity with this story, we can miss the point of the story itself. The reason it was told. The reason we put it on our annual church calendar. The reason we keep coming back around to it year after year, letting it speak to us in new ways.
Our story begins, not with wind and fire, but with a locked door, and dispirited followers. It begins with the disciples gathered in a house in Jerusalem. Jesus had told them to remain in the city, and so they did. They weren’t sure why they were still there – I mean Jesus’ story had ended, hadn’t it? Surely there was nothing left to do now but pack up their stuff, and head back to their lives back in Galilee. But, still… Jesus told them to stay put for a bit, and so they are staying put. At least for awhile. I feel for them. It could not have been easy staying in the room day after day. Staring out the peephole from inside that locked room, the whole world must have looked fearsome and dark to Peter and the rest of them. The last few days had been tough, and those disciples had seen some things. Horrible things. The cross was still perched outside of the city with its’ message that Rome is running things and has ultimate power; they had seen stones rolled in front of tombs; experienced violence and intense fear and grief, and so it feels like the smart thing to do is to stay behind locked doors. It makes sense to be frightened. While the sign on the cross read. “King of the Jews”, it might as well have said, “this is how things are, and this is how things are always going to be.” Beneath that cross, any who had been holding on to their idealistic and passionate notions that anything will change, that people might wake up, and the world might get better, are best advised to hunker down and get used to reality. Some things just are – best get used to them.
The older I get, the more I am convinced that we are so very much like those first disciples. We look out the peepholes from our homes or our congregations, and we too see some frightening things. We are afraid a lot of the time. We are afraid that the money won’t last, or our health might falter. We are afraid that the world we are leaving for our children and grandchildren is not going to make their lives easy. We are afraid or pandemics that seem without end; afraid of wars that threaten to become more widespread; we are afraid the church communities that we love, are dwindling, and might even eventually fade away. So it’s no wonder we tend to stay behind the walls of our houses and churches. It’s understandable that we gather with those closest to us, because that’s what we do when we are frightened. We find safe places. We limit the risk. We stay safe. There is wisdom in doing just that.
Yet there isn’t much life there. When we hide out, or close ourselves off from others or our world, we often end up closing ourselves off from the very things that can renew us and redeem us, and make life better, because they flow from the very spirit of God. Those first disciples were sorely tempted to stay behind their closed doors. I mean, after all, what were they supposed to do? While Jesus taught them a lot of powerful things, he didn’t really say what they were supposed to do with all that they had learned. How does one actually love their neighbour when the world is so complex and scary? How does one stand against the principalities and powers, when it can so quickly turn into a death sentence?
Those first disciples, Peter and the rest, they had no clue on what the next step was. Which is why I love them, and this story so much. I can relate. I think we all can. In our hearts, we know what following Jesus entails. Yet our world is so messy and complicated. The world has changed so much. How do we do it? How do live faithfully in a world that doesn’t always make sense? How did they?
Here’s the thing, they went outside. Feeling the prompting of the Spirit, they opened that door, and went outside. They didn’t know anything about how to build a church – or a way of faith. They had no clue how they would counter the opposition of Rome or the religious elites. They didn’t spend a lot of time strategically planning their big faith debut. Yet they knew a lot about love. They knew a lot about the things Jesus taught them. They knew the importance of serving one another, and welcoming into their midst the lost and the little ones that society has long since cast away. They knew that hungry people needed food. That homeless people needed a home. That oppressed people needed justice. So that’s what they did. They went out and did those things. And they were well received. Not by all, but by many. In the midst of the world’s turmoil they left their private “safe space” to become champions of “safe space” not just for those who come on a Sunday, but for anyone and everyone. Welcoming space. Generous space. Hospitable space. Which is the church at its best. The church, not as a hide out from the world, but a place that is in the midst of the world with all of its’ messiness and complications – providing the stability that only love and intentional community can provide.
Over the past week I have really struggled with keeping this sermon short! I must have re-written it a dozen times. I struggled because there is so much I want to share with all of you. I want to tell you that, yes, the world is messy and church life isn’t what it was even a decade ago, but you’ve got this! You know how to love and how to welcome – all that is left is to figure out how to share your love and welcome in ever widening circles of relationships. I want to tell you how awesome I think it is that as a community you took the time to think deeply about your community of faith, and through lots of hard work, have come up with a dream for what Comox United might become!
But most of all, I want to tell you to be brave. Be brave and trust that the Holy Spirit is with you now, and will be with you however it is you decide to go outside and meet your neighbours. As some of you may remember, we in Salmon Arm had our own little Pentecost about 5 years ago. Tired of waiting for people to show up on a Sunday and discover how loving and kind and fun we were (in all honesty Salmon Arm United had only been waiting for about a decade, and I finally had to tell them that people weren’t going to come) we decided to go out and meet them. And here is what I found. People are hungry for the things we take for granted. We don’t think our church community is special? Trust me, most people have no experience of being a part of a community that seeks to love and nurture and support one another. The good news, is still good news. We share the good news every time we welcome like Jesus did. Or speak our truth like Peter did. Or serve our neighbours and our world, in small, yet powerful, acts of kindness and compassion, like followers of Jesus have always sought to do.
One last thing: the Spirit is already at work “out there” in the big wide, messy, world. We simply need to join in. Trust me. There is life out there. We just need to go outside, join in, and let the spirit move us to where it is we need to be. May it be so in your life and in mine. Amen.