Pentecost C
In the name of the Spirit of Truth, Wisdom, and Freedom. Amen.
There’s a website called “Story People”, and once a day they create
what they call the “Story of the Day”.
It’s usually just a sentence or two, but it’s designed to open the mind
in some way, and it becomes one of those things that says more than it
says. You can sign up for a daily email
of these brief “stories” that come along with an image that helps to bring them
to life.
Earlier this week, I saw a similar story to the kind that the Story
People create – but this was written to accompany a piece of art that was
created to commemorate the retirement of one of my favorite seminary
professors. Drew is often lovingly
referred to as “The Forest” because of the undeveloped woodlands on the
university campus, and my professor loved to share what she called “Life in the
forest” updates – places where she had recognized holiness living amongst the
ordinary. This artist, inspired by our
professor, used the wood of a fallen oak tree to find holy stories in the
ordinariness of a tree.
The story that I saw was simply this: “You are destined to fly, said
the giant oak, but that cocoon has to go.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful representation of the
experience of Pentecost than this. “You
are destined to fly… but that cocoon has to go.”
Christ formed us, and made us ready to assume the mantle of the
ministry that he started. But now it’s
time for us to fly – to ride the wind of the Spirit and to keep the ministry
going to places we’d never imagined.
It strikes me, in the Gospel this morning, to hear Jesus call us to
continue this ministry. He says, “Very
truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do
and, in fact, will do greater works that
these.”
There’s no denying the greatness of the works that Jesus is said to
have done. Giving sight to people who
were blind. Giving speech to people who
were mute. Giving the freedom of
independent movement to people whose bodies limited them. …Giving breath to people through him the
breath of life had already passed…
Giving wisdom and understanding to all who would listen… And finally, giving an example of humility
and sacrifice to all who would follow him.
If the Gospel writers and the tradition of Christians who have followed
through these millennia are any kind of right, then these were great
things. Among the greatest of things
that we could ever imagine.
And now we, the ones who struggle to believe, are told that we can do
“greater works than these.” It’s hard to
consider.
But, as is so often the case, there’s a bit of unplanned grace in our
hearing these words today – a day that’s so full in the life of our
congregation. It’s recognition
Sunday. A day when we celebrate the
ministries of this year’s David Hegg Award winners – two leaders in the church
who provide invaluable, ongoing service to the congregation, but often so
deeply in the background that many people here might not even know about
it. And we celebrate the choir – these
dedicated worship leaders who work week after week, showing up early on
Sundays, showing up in the middle of the week to prepare, and who deepen our
experience of work throughout the year.
It's also the ingathering of one of our outreach projects – a huge, physical
representation of the creativity, talent, money, and hours of work that people
in this congregation have given so that other people – people they’ll never
know – will feel love and support during a trying time in their lives. Because of this generosity there will be
smiles we’ll never see, warmth we’ll never feel, and comfort we’ll never
understand.
And all of us have the opportunity to share our Time & Talent
commitments as we move toward another year of worship, fellowship, and service
at St. David’s. These simple pages we
bless will represent hundreds of hours of service, hundreds of prayers, nights
away from families and spouses, mornings when we can’t sleep in – and most of
all, they’ll represent blessings too numerous to count. Blessings we may never even fully know or
understand.
Yes, it’s a bit of unplanned grace that all of this should be happening
today – the Day of Pentecost, the day when we give thanks to God for endowing
us with the gift of the Holy Spirit. The
day when we give thanks to God for giving us the truth, and the wisdom, and the
freedom to do more than we thought we could.
More than we could alone.
None of us are capable of being Christ, alone. We have no hope of doing “greater works than
these” when we’re alone. But just
consider all that we can do together.
Consider all that has been done and all that will be done, and give
thanks that this Holy Spirit has brought us together.
And we add that with the ministries of our sisters and brothers of
faith all around the world. Together we
heal. Together we help people to really
see for the first time. We help people
to hear what they’ve been missing. We
inspire people to move in ways that they didn’t know they could. And we bring life to places that have only
known death.
We do all this by following Christ.
And as Christians we are
destined to fly. We fly higher than we
could alone, because we are upheld by each other, and by the wind of the Holy
Spirit – that greatest gift – that blows through us. Thanks be to God. Amen.
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