May
24th, 2015 “Pentecost Reflection” Rev. Heather Jepsen
Acts
2:1-21 and Ezekiel 37:1-14
A long time ago something really
wonderful happened. Some days I feel
like that is the only story we tell. A
long time ago our pews were full. A long
time ago we didn’t have to worry about money.
A long time ago we had a huge Session and people were lining up for
their chance at leadership in the church.
A long time ago our youth group was really crowded with wonderful
kids. A long time ago this church was
great.
We tell that story in our own lives
too. A long time ago I was happy. A long time ago I was young and care
free. A long time ago I didn’t have to
worry about money. A long time ago life
was easy. A long time ago people didn’t
treat each other the way they do today. A
long time ago life was great.
Most of the stories I stand up here
and tell on Sunday mornings also happened a long time ago. A long time ago God created the Earth and
called it good. A long time ago God
redeemed the people of Israel and brought them out of bondage. A long time ago a baby was born who was
filled with promise and hope. A long
time ago God walked among us and taught us how to be better people. A long time ago Jesus died because he loved
us so much, and then he rose again to give us healing and hope. A long time ago God did amazing things in our
world.
Today is Pentecost, and the story we
tell today is another one of those “a long time ago” stories. A long time ago some people were gathered
together in a crowded room. They were
scared and sad. Jesus had died, but then
he came back to be with them, but then he left again. And they didn’t know what to do. And they didn’t know how to be the movement
without their leader. And so the people
sat around waiting.
A long
time ago, a fire came upon them and the wind blew through them and they were
filled with confidence and courage, with hope and strength. They were anointed with power and Peter stood
up and preached about how this would happen for everyone; for women and men,
for children and old people, for friends and strangers. A long time ago the church was born, and it
is a beautiful story.
And so today, we celebrate that
story. We sing songs about the Spirit
and we wave our streamers in joy, and we hope that we can capture a small bit
of what happened a long time ago. We
hope that we can grab a sliver of those days when the church was full, when
life was easy, and when God was an undeniable force in our world. We might not make it to what we seek, but we
can certainly give it our best shot today.
We can try to reach the joy of a long time ago.
In an odd twist of fate, the
lectionary pairs this reading with the dry bones of Ezekiel. I was really drawn to Ezekiel’s story this
week, because it spoke to me about what the church needs, and perhaps what we
need in our own lives. Especially when
we seem to be surrounded by “a long time ago”s.
Ezekiel
is dropped in the midst of a valley of dry bones. God asks him, “Can these bones live?” and I
love Ezekiel’s answer of “God, you tell me!”
Sometimes as a pastor I feel like I have been dropped in a valley of dry
bones. I am surrounded by stories of
what once was. This church is not as
prosperous as it used to be, and the story is echoed up the ranks from the
Presbytery to the denomination as a whole.
Dry bones.
And I am
surrounded by the pain in people’s lives.
From the ravages of cancer, to the heartache of raising children, to the
realities of financial calamity, to the struggles of sustaining a
marriage. Dry bones. And God says to me, “Heather, can these dry
bones live?” And I say “O Lord, you tell
me.”
Ezekiel
calls on the wind, he calls on the Spirit of the Lord. “Ruah” the word that has been used from the
beginning; the Spirit that moves over the waters of creation, and the breath
that brings life to the first man. Ezekiel
calls and the winds of the Spirit blow, the dry bones are revived, and they
regain sinew and flesh, they regain the breath of life. A long time ago these dry bones were the
epitome of death itself, and now . . . now they live.
God
makes the metaphor clear by telling Ezekiel the message he is supposed to
preach. These dry bones are the house of
Israel. These dry bones are the church
and the people of God. God will bring
the people back from death, fill them with the Spirit, and give them new
life. Dry bones are nothing when
compared to the power and promise of our Lord.
As I
stand in this valley of dry bones today and I think of the story of Ezekiel and
of the story of Pentecost, I can feel that glimmer of hope. I can feel that desire, that call, for the
spirit to blow among us again. I can
feel my hair stir in the breeze, as the breath of life flows through me, and
through this place. I can feel the
fire. I can feel the promise.
It is
not easy to tell the truth. And the
truth is that there are some pretty dry bones here. But there is also new life. While we may not be in a time of our lives
where we are filled with fire and where we are being born anew, this is a time
when God is present. There is a flicker
of hope in this church, for doing new things, for being a force in the world
for good. From traveling to Malawi, to
raising money for Nepal, to raucous discussions in adult Sunday school class,
there is an ember burning here. There is
a fire waiting to get started, and soon breath will return to these dry bones.
And
while some of us are in a place of nothing but death. Others of us are coming back out of that
valley of shadows. The sun is beginning
to shine again in our lives and even the simplist thing, like the song of the
cardinal, reminds us that God is with us.
That God loves us. A flicker of
hope, a flame of life, and soon breath will return to these dry bones.
While
some days are harder than others, we tell these stories of “a long time ago” to
remind us of who we are. To remind us of
the work of God. “A long time ago” isn’t
just about lamenting over the loss of the good old days, it is also about
remembering the power of God in our lives.
I am sure this church was dry bones, before it was full pews. The life of the church is cyclical. So too, our own lives move in and out of dry
bones and living flame.
Today as
we remember the Pentecost, as we remember what happened a long time ago, we
also tell the story of dry bones. The
house of Israel was nothing but death, and God brought it back to life. The early Jesus movement, was nothing but
failure, and God brought it to success.
In our own lives of dust and dry bones, today we grasp that tiny ember
of hope. Today we remember the promise
and power of God. These dry bones can
live. And someday, people will tell “a
long time ago” stories about us. And
about how God changed the world through our lives, and the through the fire and
spirit of this church. May it be
so. Amen.