Day of Pentecost
Sermon
Lyrics for the Centuries
Sermons For The Sundays after Pentecost (First Third)
Then he said to me, "Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord to the breath, prophesy mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.
-- Ezekiel 37:4-10
And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting ... All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
-- Acts 2:2-4
Here is a statement by Elie Wiesel that I came across. "Words can sometimes in moments of grace, attain to the quality of deeds." I do believe that is so. I also believe it true to say that in moments of gracelessness words also attain the quality of deeds. In fact, I believe that words are deeds that can hurt or heal, divide or unite, tear down or build up.
To assign such significance to words flies in the face of much in our upbringing, culture, and experience that predisposes us to devalue the power of words. Maybe it is those old sayings we learned early on: "silence is golden"; "one picture is worth a thousand words"; "actions speak louder than words." Maybe it is the times when we were admonished as children to hush up, button our lips, or to mind our tongues. Or maybe we recall the nicknames given to some of our companions: loud mouth, big mouth, motor mouth.
There is something in our culture that leads us to devalue words. Readers of Marshall McCluhan in the '60s got the message that words are dead. Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady sang out, "Words, words, words, I'm so sick of words." A few years ago, Madonna had a hit song, "Papa Don't Preach." There is also much in our national experience that makes words suspect. Words from high places have been used to deceive, cover up, and stonewall.
Yet here is the strange thing. Despite the influences that would devalue words, the closing years of this century have become quite noisy. Talk radio has birthed a host of strident and angry voices. Rap music has become a significant part of the verbal cacophony. Questions about the influence of words are resurfacing in our midst. Are words dead? Or do words just begin to live once they leave our lips?
In this twentieth century we have certainly had examples of the way words carry an influence that can stir the winds. Think of Adolf Hitler whose words mesmerized his listeners and seduced them with a vision of power and superiority. Think of Winston Churchill whose words sustained not only the English but also the people of Nazi-occupied Europe who covertly tuned their radios to the British Broadcasting Company. It was said of Churchill, "He mobilized the English language and sent it into battle." Think of Martin Luther King whose words renewed the vision of a fairer and more just society.
Draw a smaller circle and think of the words we speak every day and the influence of those words upon others. Think of words that can hurt and wound others. In Greek the word for flesh is sarx. The Roman charioteer wielded a sharp whip that cut into the flesh, the sarx, of his horse. There is the origin of our English word sarcasm. There are cutting words that can wound our sensibilities. The psalmist speaks of "those who whet their tongues like swords, who aim bitter words like arrows" (Psalm 64:3).
The late Gordon W. Alport of Harvard in his monumental book, The Nature of Prejudice, described the context of genocide in terms of a pyramid. The word for genocide current today is ethnic cleansing. Think of a pyramid with different layers. At the apex of the pyramid is genocide. The supporting layer is persecution. Persecution emerges out of discrimination, which is the next layer down. The bottom layer, which provides the base for the whole pyramid, Alport called circumlocution. By that he meant all the words of prejudice, stereotype, and dehumanization that circulate throughout the whole society, in each little circle that makes up that whole. Out of memory come these words. "Boys flying kites haul in their winged birds. You can't do that when you are flying words." Words travel far and have a cumulative social impact. The writer of the letter to the Ephesians makes an intriguing reference to the Evil One as "the ruler of the atmosphere."
Words can also heal and bind up. Think of some time when you were down in the dumps and someone's word to you at just the right time became an enabling word. Think of the time when a kind word of yours to another person evoked the response, "You have just made my day."
Words, words, words! Words that hurt and words that heal. Words that set person against person, group against group. Words that disrupt community and words that create community. You and I have a central concern with words, for in the kingdom enterprise we traffic in words. The imperatives of our Lord involve us in the use of words. The Word, capital W, is central to our experience. "The Word, the Word, I say, is the bearer of grace." Luther said that. We are called to be messengers of the grace-laden Word.
Here is an observation worth noting. Ezekiel's vision of the valley of dry bones and Luke's of the day of Pentecost have some intriguing similarities. Both Ezekiel and Luke are witnessing to the mystery of God's creative action in history. In both accounts we meet a configuration of the words wind, breath, and spirit. How do you describe the creative action of God in our human experience? Can it all be wrapped up in a neat verbal package? Can our human vocabulary bear the weight of a reality that transcends our powers of precise definition? Do we not have to rely on metaphors, especially when dealing with the mystery of God?
Wind, breath, spirit: these words are interchangeable in biblical metaphor for the creative action of God. Listen to the writer of Genesis. "In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was formless and void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God spread over the face of the deep" (Genesis 1:1). Then God speaks and his Word brings into being things that are not. The Word is central.
Listen to Ezekiel bringing the word from beyond to the living dead. "Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." What a beautiful way to speak of the Divine Spirit that animates the whole creation! Mark the configuration of wind, breath, and word also in Luke's account. Wind, spirit, and speech are woven into the artistry of Luke. How else do you express a reality that grabs us in a way we cannot define but can affirm? And what is the bottom line in both accounts? Just this -- the recreation of community. Relationship is what it is all about, life in relationship to the Living God and to one another, to the Living God as made known to us in the Living Word, our crucified and risen Lord.
I can never read chapter 37 of Ezekiel without thinking of the words of the old spiritual. "The toe bone connected to the foot bone, the foot bone connected to the shin bone, the shin bone connected to the knee bone, the knee bone connected to the thigh bone, the thigh bone connected to the hip bone, the hip bone con-nected to the back bone, the back bone connected to the head bone, ain't it a wonder how them bones connected up!" Well, the human body with its manifold connections is a wonder. But bones, sinews, flesh, blood, organs, and brain do not a whole person make. That's what the prophet says in his unique way, "But there was no breath in them" -- no life, no spirit -- connections without either communion or community. The word zombies comes to mind, the living dead.
There is more to being human than just being a collection of bones, tissue, organs, and blood encased in flesh. "Prophesy to the breath, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain that they may live." The prophet invokes the mysterious, animating spirit of the whole of creation. And hear what happens. "I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude." Mark carefully the yoking of speech and spirit. Here is the affirmation being voiced. The biblical phrase, to stand before God, means to assume our fully human posture. This is the language of relationship. This is what Pentecost is all about, living in relationship with God and with one another, and our crucified and risen Lord defines for us the nature of those relationships. Individual and collective arrogance is out; redemptive concern for one another is in. This theme of inclusive community is especially prominent in Luke`s account of Pentecost.
Think about it this way. In the time of Jesus, holiness meant ritual purity. To be holy was to be superior to others. That way of saying "holy" is still around. The movements of racial superiority and ethnic purity still much in evidence in our world are other ways of saying, "We are holier than you." Class snobbery is a way of saying "holier than you." Elitism of any sort is a way of saying "holier than you." Religious posturing and fanatacism of any ilk is a way of saying, "holier than you."
But this is not what Jesus meant by holiness. This is not what Luke meant when proclaiming the Holy Spirit. Here are some words from an English scholar that will be helpful to us. "But because of its newly established close association with Jesus, the idea of holiness suffered a revolution in meaning. Instead of denoting ritual separation from defilement, it came to denote that intense dedication to the mercy and compassion of God which had led Jesus to touch lepers and fraternize with the more unsavory members of the community. Holiness was turned inside out: instead of meaning 'holier than thou,' it meant 'dedicated for thee.' And it was the Holy Spirit that gave to Christians that 'sanctification' or dedication that enabled them to follow in the steps of a holiness of this worldly and world-affirming sort."1
So, we are back where we began with the configuration of wind, word, spirit, and community. There are mean-spirited words that can stir the ill winds that fragment community. There are redemptive words of hope and promise that can heal, build up, and include. We are called to be messengers, to traffic in words, to speak words that attain to the level of grace. I do not mean the self-consciously pious kind of words. I do not mean the "Hey, friend, are you saved?" sort of words. I mean words that build mutual respect, words that engender a vision of community, words that appeal to conscience, words that call us to be all that we can be -- words that will be bearers of the Word that is the very breath of life.
____________
1. Moule, C.F.D., The Holy Spirit, William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 1978, p. 23.
-- Ezekiel 37:4-10
And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting ... All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
-- Acts 2:2-4
Here is a statement by Elie Wiesel that I came across. "Words can sometimes in moments of grace, attain to the quality of deeds." I do believe that is so. I also believe it true to say that in moments of gracelessness words also attain the quality of deeds. In fact, I believe that words are deeds that can hurt or heal, divide or unite, tear down or build up.
To assign such significance to words flies in the face of much in our upbringing, culture, and experience that predisposes us to devalue the power of words. Maybe it is those old sayings we learned early on: "silence is golden"; "one picture is worth a thousand words"; "actions speak louder than words." Maybe it is the times when we were admonished as children to hush up, button our lips, or to mind our tongues. Or maybe we recall the nicknames given to some of our companions: loud mouth, big mouth, motor mouth.
There is something in our culture that leads us to devalue words. Readers of Marshall McCluhan in the '60s got the message that words are dead. Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady sang out, "Words, words, words, I'm so sick of words." A few years ago, Madonna had a hit song, "Papa Don't Preach." There is also much in our national experience that makes words suspect. Words from high places have been used to deceive, cover up, and stonewall.
Yet here is the strange thing. Despite the influences that would devalue words, the closing years of this century have become quite noisy. Talk radio has birthed a host of strident and angry voices. Rap music has become a significant part of the verbal cacophony. Questions about the influence of words are resurfacing in our midst. Are words dead? Or do words just begin to live once they leave our lips?
In this twentieth century we have certainly had examples of the way words carry an influence that can stir the winds. Think of Adolf Hitler whose words mesmerized his listeners and seduced them with a vision of power and superiority. Think of Winston Churchill whose words sustained not only the English but also the people of Nazi-occupied Europe who covertly tuned their radios to the British Broadcasting Company. It was said of Churchill, "He mobilized the English language and sent it into battle." Think of Martin Luther King whose words renewed the vision of a fairer and more just society.
Draw a smaller circle and think of the words we speak every day and the influence of those words upon others. Think of words that can hurt and wound others. In Greek the word for flesh is sarx. The Roman charioteer wielded a sharp whip that cut into the flesh, the sarx, of his horse. There is the origin of our English word sarcasm. There are cutting words that can wound our sensibilities. The psalmist speaks of "those who whet their tongues like swords, who aim bitter words like arrows" (Psalm 64:3).
The late Gordon W. Alport of Harvard in his monumental book, The Nature of Prejudice, described the context of genocide in terms of a pyramid. The word for genocide current today is ethnic cleansing. Think of a pyramid with different layers. At the apex of the pyramid is genocide. The supporting layer is persecution. Persecution emerges out of discrimination, which is the next layer down. The bottom layer, which provides the base for the whole pyramid, Alport called circumlocution. By that he meant all the words of prejudice, stereotype, and dehumanization that circulate throughout the whole society, in each little circle that makes up that whole. Out of memory come these words. "Boys flying kites haul in their winged birds. You can't do that when you are flying words." Words travel far and have a cumulative social impact. The writer of the letter to the Ephesians makes an intriguing reference to the Evil One as "the ruler of the atmosphere."
Words can also heal and bind up. Think of some time when you were down in the dumps and someone's word to you at just the right time became an enabling word. Think of the time when a kind word of yours to another person evoked the response, "You have just made my day."
Words, words, words! Words that hurt and words that heal. Words that set person against person, group against group. Words that disrupt community and words that create community. You and I have a central concern with words, for in the kingdom enterprise we traffic in words. The imperatives of our Lord involve us in the use of words. The Word, capital W, is central to our experience. "The Word, the Word, I say, is the bearer of grace." Luther said that. We are called to be messengers of the grace-laden Word.
Here is an observation worth noting. Ezekiel's vision of the valley of dry bones and Luke's of the day of Pentecost have some intriguing similarities. Both Ezekiel and Luke are witnessing to the mystery of God's creative action in history. In both accounts we meet a configuration of the words wind, breath, and spirit. How do you describe the creative action of God in our human experience? Can it all be wrapped up in a neat verbal package? Can our human vocabulary bear the weight of a reality that transcends our powers of precise definition? Do we not have to rely on metaphors, especially when dealing with the mystery of God?
Wind, breath, spirit: these words are interchangeable in biblical metaphor for the creative action of God. Listen to the writer of Genesis. "In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was formless and void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God spread over the face of the deep" (Genesis 1:1). Then God speaks and his Word brings into being things that are not. The Word is central.
Listen to Ezekiel bringing the word from beyond to the living dead. "Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." What a beautiful way to speak of the Divine Spirit that animates the whole creation! Mark the configuration of wind, breath, and word also in Luke's account. Wind, spirit, and speech are woven into the artistry of Luke. How else do you express a reality that grabs us in a way we cannot define but can affirm? And what is the bottom line in both accounts? Just this -- the recreation of community. Relationship is what it is all about, life in relationship to the Living God and to one another, to the Living God as made known to us in the Living Word, our crucified and risen Lord.
I can never read chapter 37 of Ezekiel without thinking of the words of the old spiritual. "The toe bone connected to the foot bone, the foot bone connected to the shin bone, the shin bone connected to the knee bone, the knee bone connected to the thigh bone, the thigh bone connected to the hip bone, the hip bone con-nected to the back bone, the back bone connected to the head bone, ain't it a wonder how them bones connected up!" Well, the human body with its manifold connections is a wonder. But bones, sinews, flesh, blood, organs, and brain do not a whole person make. That's what the prophet says in his unique way, "But there was no breath in them" -- no life, no spirit -- connections without either communion or community. The word zombies comes to mind, the living dead.
There is more to being human than just being a collection of bones, tissue, organs, and blood encased in flesh. "Prophesy to the breath, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain that they may live." The prophet invokes the mysterious, animating spirit of the whole of creation. And hear what happens. "I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude." Mark carefully the yoking of speech and spirit. Here is the affirmation being voiced. The biblical phrase, to stand before God, means to assume our fully human posture. This is the language of relationship. This is what Pentecost is all about, living in relationship with God and with one another, and our crucified and risen Lord defines for us the nature of those relationships. Individual and collective arrogance is out; redemptive concern for one another is in. This theme of inclusive community is especially prominent in Luke`s account of Pentecost.
Think about it this way. In the time of Jesus, holiness meant ritual purity. To be holy was to be superior to others. That way of saying "holy" is still around. The movements of racial superiority and ethnic purity still much in evidence in our world are other ways of saying, "We are holier than you." Class snobbery is a way of saying "holier than you." Elitism of any sort is a way of saying "holier than you." Religious posturing and fanatacism of any ilk is a way of saying, "holier than you."
But this is not what Jesus meant by holiness. This is not what Luke meant when proclaiming the Holy Spirit. Here are some words from an English scholar that will be helpful to us. "But because of its newly established close association with Jesus, the idea of holiness suffered a revolution in meaning. Instead of denoting ritual separation from defilement, it came to denote that intense dedication to the mercy and compassion of God which had led Jesus to touch lepers and fraternize with the more unsavory members of the community. Holiness was turned inside out: instead of meaning 'holier than thou,' it meant 'dedicated for thee.' And it was the Holy Spirit that gave to Christians that 'sanctification' or dedication that enabled them to follow in the steps of a holiness of this worldly and world-affirming sort."1
So, we are back where we began with the configuration of wind, word, spirit, and community. There are mean-spirited words that can stir the ill winds that fragment community. There are redemptive words of hope and promise that can heal, build up, and include. We are called to be messengers, to traffic in words, to speak words that attain to the level of grace. I do not mean the self-consciously pious kind of words. I do not mean the "Hey, friend, are you saved?" sort of words. I mean words that build mutual respect, words that engender a vision of community, words that appeal to conscience, words that call us to be all that we can be -- words that will be bearers of the Word that is the very breath of life.
____________
1. Moule, C.F.D., The Holy Spirit, William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 1978, p. 23.
