The Spirit of God can’t be controlled, and that’s a huge gift and blessing.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Day of Pentecost, year A
Texts: Numbers 11:24-30; Acts 2:1-21

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

It was supposed to be a gift. A blessing.

Moses is exhausted from leading an ungrateful, complaining, angry people through the wilderness. Surrounding today’s reading from Numbers, Moses unburdens his heart to God, saying he’s about done. It’s too much of a weight to be the only one filled with God’s Spirit, proclaiming God’s voice.

The God who is called I AM agrees, and tells Moses to choose 70 elders who will also receive the Spirit of God, and they will carry some of the burden of leadership. It will be a blessing. Except, well, rules were broken. Or something. All 70 who were chosen from all the tribes were to be gathered around the tent of meeting. And all at the tent received the Holy Spirit and prophesied.

But back in the camp were two others, Eldad and Medad, who also received the Spirit and also prophesied, but in the camp. So either Eldad and Medad were in the 70 and didn’t follow the instructions to gather at the tent, or the God called I AM decided there were a couple others needed for leadership.

For Joshua, second in command, this was intolerable. He tells Moses to shut them down.

But Joshua’s problem isn’t Moses. It’s God.

Either God chose to ignore the rule that everyone of the 70 had to be at the tent, or God chose to ignore the list of 70 and added a couple extra. Either way, it wasn’t Moses’ decision.

Joshua wanted everything to be organized, controlled. That’s not possible with God’s Spirit. Moses has the wisdom to see this, and the exhaustion to rejoice in this. He wishes everyone would get the Spirit poured on them. But it isn’t hard to imagine Joshua’s horror at that thought: all these common folks, filled with the Spirit of God. How would you control them?

But that’s the point. God is out of your control.

That first day of Pentecost was out of control, too.

One hundred and twenty women and men woke up that morning, with no idea what would happen. By nine that morning they were all speaking in languages they’d never spoken before. 120 voices in dozens and dozens of languages, all at the same time, all proclaiming Christ’s resurrection. It was chaos. It was so disruptive, so out of control, that their opponents derided them and said they were drunk.

But God had a vision. Thousands of pilgrims were in Jerusalem for the Jewish festival of Pentecost, from all the countries of the known world. God wanted them to hear of Christ in their own language and take it back home. It would quickly spread the Good News across the world.

Since it was God’s vision, even the leaders, Mary Magdalene, Peter, and the others, weren’t in charge. They didn’t know what was next even that day, let alone the years to come. They weren’t in control.

Today we celebrate the coming of the Spirit to all who follow Christ.

What happened for Moses happened again. Once it was just Jesus, Spirit-filled Son of God, doing God’s wonders, bearing God’s love. Now all who trust in Christ for life are filled with the Spirit. To spread the burden of ministry, to share the joy of God’s presence, to carry God in our bodies as moving temples wherever we go.

But if you trust what we proclaim about the Holy Spirit, that the Spirit calls God’s children, fills them, gives them gifts, empowers them for service and love, and moves throughout the world like the wind wherever she wants to go, know this: None of the work of the Spirit is in your control.

Your life in the Spirit is God’s to reveal, not yours to plan. Your gifts are God’s to give, not yours to create. Your path of service and love is God’s path to guide you on, not yours to design. And like the Spirit-filled followers on that first Pentecost, you have no idea what’s next.

Stephanie and Rose, when they affirm their baptism before you all, their family in Christ, will claim the promises others made at their baptism as their own promises: to live among God’s people, proclaim Christ in their words and actions, strive for justice and peace. We’ll ask the Spirit to stir up in them.

But what that will look like, they don’t know yet. They’re remarkable young women, convinced of God’s love for them, and God’s call to them to love others. But they don’t know what’s next. And neither do you. Because God is out of our control.

And that’s the best news about Pentecost, about the promise that you are the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit: you don’t have to be in charge.

There’s a prayer beloved to us and to many. We pray it often, and a beautiful carving of it hangs in our north entrance. The prayer begins, “O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown.” That’s the frightening thing about the promise of the Spirit, the gift of Pentecost, the same thing that frightened Joshua. If you’re not in control, you have so many unknown paths, unknown threats, unknown challenges.

If you’re on a journey and you can’t see the ending of it, how do you know where you are? If the Spirit takes you on roads you’ve never walked, calls you to new experiences, challenges your heart to be changed, that’s frightening. And if on the Spirit’s journey there are threats, risks you can’t imagine, that’s daunting. This path God calls you to might painfully challenge your certainty, your point of view, your way of being.

But this prayer says there’s no need to fear. No worry about being confused. No problem with potential difficulties. Because if you’re not in control, God is.

This was supposed to be a gift, a blessing, this coming of the Spirit.

A gift to Moses and the people, so leadership was shared and reached more. A gift to the newborn Church so that what Jesus, God-with-us, was able to do now could be done and would be done by hundreds and then thousands and then millions more.

And it’s a gift to you, to me. Because if you are on the path the Spirit of God has called you to walk, and you’re walking with all these other Spirit-filled people, then you know all will be well. And if you know that the Spirit of God who is calling, empowering, gifting, enlightening, and leading you is the Spirit of God in Christ that is love for you and the whole creation, then you know that this whole life – unknowns and all – is a life of grace and hope and joy, no matter what happens.

And so the prayer concludes: give us faith.

“Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us, through Christ our Lord.” That’s all you need. Whatever lies ahead, God is holding you by the hand and carrying you in love. God’s got this, so you don’t need to.

This is a gift. A blessing, not to be in control. Beloved of God, remember that you are the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

We don’t look up to the skies for God to save all things; we look around at each other, filled with God’s Spirit, and see God bringing healing and hope to all through us.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Ascension of Our Lord
Texts: Acts 1:1-11; Luke 24:44-53, plus John 16:7

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

“Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away.” (John 16:7)

Much of what Jesus says in John’s Gospel on the night of his betrayal is words of encouragement to these women and men who follow him. He tells them he’s leaving them, but they’ll be alright. The Spirit will be with them, they will be one with the Father and the Son, they will not be orphaned.

But in the midst of that encouragement are these strange words, that Jesus leaving them is to their advantage. Not just “you’ll be OK when I’m gone,” but, “you need me to go.”

And that’s hard for us to understand, much less to trust. It was hard for this group of followers, too. In fact, angels feel compelled to appear and ask them just why they’re standing there, gazing up to heaven. They’re looking where Jesus disappeared because they don’t understand it yet.

We’re not that different from the disciples, or anyone expecting help from God.

Don’t we look up to the heavens – if not literally then spiritually – when things go wrong, wondering where God is, why God allowed this or that, what God intends to do to make things right? Like most humans throughout history, we tend to hope for magic more than relationship from God. Prayer is a way to get God to do what we want.

Some of the Jewish people expected a Messiah who’d restore Israel, end oppression, kick out Rome, and Jesus didn’t do any of that. But we who follow the risen Christ didn’t really learn from that.

Even after they faced the reality of Jesus’ death, once he is raised, Luke says, the disciples ask, “Now will you restore the kingdom to Israel?” It’s as if they’re saying, “OK, we missed that part where you were going to die. That’s our bad. But now that you’re alive again, we’re back to you fixing all our problems, right?

Little wonder they gaped at the sky when he left.

But we should answer the angels’ question, too.

Why would we stand idly in the world wondering why God isn’t fixing all the oppression and suffering, ending the rise of authoritarianism and fascism, bringing all peoples together as one? Wondering when God’s Son will return to fix things? Jesus says leaving us to deal with this ourselves is to our advantage.

This is the heart of Luke’s theology of today. He ends his Gospel with this story, and begins the sequel, Acts, with this story again.

Because in the Gospel, he tells of God’s Son, who, filled with the Holy Spirit, did amazing wonders, taught of God’s love and unlimited grace, sacrificed himself in love and rose to new life. The world began to be changed in this Spirit-filled Son of God.

And in Acts, Luke says we’re the same as Jesus. We’re promised the gift of the Holy Spirit and become, like Jesus, like the first believers, Spirit-filled children of God who change the world. Who do wonders in Christ’s name. Who love the world with vulnerability and so transform death into life, make God’s reign happen here. All with the power of God’s Spirit.

Jesus had to return into the life of the Trinity, or we’d just keep looking in his direction every time something needed doing.

After all, he’s the Son of God. He’s got all the power and ability.

But tonight it becomes clear: God’s transformation of the world will happen in the same way Jesus began, continued in us, through self-giving love, through re-creating relationships between the people of the world and God. As more and more of God’s children are transformed in that love, all the broken things, the oppressive things, the evil things, all that work against God, will crumble and fall. Unless we all just keep looking up at the sky.

It’s not terribly efficient, but the means are as important as the end to God. Forcing the world to love each other and God wouldn’t be worth anything. Jesus showed the power of God in his sacrificial love. And now for us in the world, the only way to show God’s power is by our sacrificial love. By the Spirit making us new from within so that we can love others, because in that love everything can be changed.

Tonight Jesus says, “tag – you’re it.” Or, “keep up the good work I started.”

Jesus promises that if we trust in him, if we abide in him and so in the life of the Triune God he’s opened up for us, we’ll do even more amazing things than he did. Because spread throughout all God’s children, the Holy Spirit can be working in every corner, every crack, every broken place in this world, bearing God’s redeeming, vulnerable love for the healing of all.

Because Christ has ascended, we don’t look up for God to fix everything. We look at each other, filled with God’s Spirit, the power of God, and say, “What can the Triune God do through us, now that we are Christ, now that we are called, now that we are sent?”

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

God’s people share one heart, have one home now and always in God – and that includes you, includes all.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Fifth Sunday of Easter, year A
Text: John 14:1-14 (plus 13:36-38)

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Peter must have nearly collapsed in despair.

Jesus struck at the heart of his bold loyalty. “Why can’t I follow you now?” Peter asked. “I would give my life for you.” “No,” Jesus said, “the truth is, tonight, before morning breaks, you will betray me by denying you even know me. And not just once. Three times.” It’s heartbreaking.

And it’s not the first time. Some weeks before, Peter also boldly declared his faith that Jesus was the Messiah, only to be called Satan for trying to stop Jesus from heading to his suffering and death. And just that evening, they had that little argument over the footwashing. So this last weight came on top of Peter’s already fragile sense of his own faithfulness.

The others had to be shaken, too. Maybe the footwashing conversation felt a bit amusing, typical blustery Peter getting it wrong. But Jesus had said at supper that one of them would betray him, and no one knew who. Now they must have thought: Peter? Our leader, the brave and foolish one, is the betrayer? How could their hearts stand it?

That’s why Jesus’ next words have to be heard in this proper context.

His very next words are, “Don’t let your heart be troubled. Trust in God. Trust in me.”

He says, “Yes, you will betray me tonight, deny me, run away. Don’t let your heart be troubled. Trust God. Trust me.” He says, “Yes, you have failed me, misunderstood my mission, tried to stop me from my path. Don’t let your heart be troubled. Trust in me. Trust in God.”

I imagine Jesus touching Peter’s face, maybe embracing him to comfort him as he says these words: Yes, my dear, you will do badly tonight, and on more days and nights to come. Do not let your heart be troubled. Trust me. Trust God. Into the heartbreaking reality of Peter’s coming failure, Jesus speaks words that still give us hope.

But here’s what you didn’t hear, couldn’t see.

Jesus isn’t just talking to Peter.

Jesus actually says, “All of you, do not let your heart be troubled.” Our English pronouns are impoverished, as we’re learning in so many human and divine contexts these days. But John’s Greek readers would have understood this from the first: everyone is included in Jesus’ comfort and encouragement. The various Marys, and Thomas. Joanna, Matthew, and Mary Magdalene. Andrew and Salome. Susanna and Philip. And yes, Peter. Jesus knew all their hearts were breaking at this coming betrayal, and would break even more in the next days. So he spoke courage into them all.

And every “you” in today’s Gospel reading is plural, except that brief interchange with Philip. This promise of a place prepared, of the way, the truth, and the life, none of this is a promise to an individual.

Jesus is preparing a place in his Father’s house for the whole community, everyone, all brought in together by Christ. The healing grace of God in Christ isn’t something you can have or lose as an individual, even if you betray Christ, deny Christ with your life. You are in God’s community in Christ in baptism and Christ will bring the whole community into the life of God now and in a life to come. Do not let your heart be troubled. Trust Jesus. Trust your God.

And in this community, failures, faithfulness, all are held and carried in Christ.

Because there’s something else to notice: Jesus says, “all of you, do not let your heart be troubled.” Plural you. Singular heart.

This community of Christ shares a heart. One community, one home, one heart in Christ. So if, like Peter, you have a bad night, or week, or year, or if your heart is troubled, you are not alone. This community heart, fed and nourished in Christ, will hold you. Your anxiety and failure are shared across our heart and you will not be let go of.

In this community of Christ – which we know in the flesh here at Mount Olive but which extends throughout the world and throughout time – in this community, sharing one heart, your failure or mine can’t stop God’s love or break the community. God is making a place for all, and all includes you.

If you can grasp this promise, if all who bear Christ’s name can, wonders will happen.

This community in Christ will learn that Jesus is the Way we all live together, the path we learn together. No one walks it alone. It’s a path shaped by the Truth that is Jesus – a living Truth that reveals the vulnerable love of the Creator of the universe for us and for all. Living in this Truth, walking the Way together, never alone, we find the abundant Life that Jesus is, that Jesus told us last week he so desires for all. And together in this Way, Truth, and Life, we will do greater things even than Jesus, he promises. That’s how God will heal this world.

If salvation isn’t an individual thing – and that’s what Jesus promises today – and if we’re all in this together – Jesus promises that today, too – then don’t let your heart be troubled, beloved of God. We have a Way to walk, together, lived in the Truth of God’s love, animated by the abundant risen Life of Christ. And you belong.

That’s a lot to grasp. But actually, it’s only scratching the surface of God’s true desire.

All these promises today are made to the community of those who trust in Christ, but God plans so much more.

Jesus says in John 3 that because God so loved the whole cosmos God sent the Son to save and heal. Jesus says in Matthew 18 that his Father’s will is that not a single little one be lost. And in John 12, Jesus declared: “when I am lifted up (on the cross), I will draw all things to myself” (all things, not just all people).

So when Jesus says today that no one comes to the Father except through him, it’s the ultimate inclusion. Christ is drawing all things, every little one (human or not), the whole cosmos, into the heart of God. Today Jesus proclaims the promise to the end of the universe: everyone and everything gets to come to God through me. No one and nothing is lost.

We leave how all this works to the Triune God who won’t rest until every atom knows it is in God’s love always and forever. But even as we rejoice in the gifts and blessing of this community in Christ with our shared heart, we would do well to also rejoice that the God who loves us, loves all. No exceptions.

And surely that is good news for this broken, fearful, struggling world God loves so much.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen