Pops Got Skills Romans 8:22-27, Acts 2:1-21

Some say that day of Pentecost recorded by Luke in The Acts of the Apostles
was the birthday of the Church.
I don’t buy it.
I think the birthday of the church was the day a human being first captured fire;
the first time some man or woman took a flame from a lightening strike
and used it to kindle a campfire
and invited others to gather around its heat and light.

Think of all that developed from that first campfire circle:
human imagination expressed through story and song,
governing councils that gave structure to civilization,
the first cooking classes!
That first fire circle became a focal point for life together
and life together is the heart of this entity we call “church.”

I admit, this is a pretty loose definition of “church,”
people gathered around a fire circle,
drawn there by a common need for light, for warmth, for community.
Pope Benedict surely wouldn’t accept it.
For him, church is strictly defined by apostolic succession –
the ability to trace ones origins back to the original apostles.

John Calvin, the chief reformer who laid the groundwork for Presbyterians,
also had his working definition of “church.”
He said that the church can be found “anywhere the word of God is faithfully preached
and the sacraments are rightly administered.”
That seems pretty simple until you realize that the words “faithfully” and “rightly”
leave a whole lot of room for interpretation
and a whole lot of room for internal bickering.

Go back to the very earliest churches.
They had at least one standard by which they identified a “church.”
In Paul’s letters a church is identified as any group where those gathered
acknowledge that Jesus is Lord.

Apostolic succession, word and sacraments, Jesus is Lord –
it’s not unreasonable to have some common standard
that serves to identify and set apart a group of believers;
some common trait to which we can point and say, “This is who we are,”
“This is what we mean when we say church.”

The impulse to organize is inborn in each of us.
The trouble is that part of our impulse to organize is our impulse to exclude;
an eagerness we have to draw lines and build walls,
the tendency to want to focus on who we are NOT
instead of who we ARE,
the tendency to forget that all any of us really want
is to satisfy that common hunger for light, for warmth, for community.

In chapter one of Luke’s account of the acts of the apostles
we find a very orderly process going on as the remaining eleven of Jesus’ twelve
choose a successor to replace Judas Iscariot, the betrayer.
but chapter two is anything but orderly.

Chapter two begins on the day of Pentecost, one of three annual festivals in Jerusalem. Pilgrims from all over the Middle East have come to Jerusalem to celebrate
the 50th day after the Passover and the consecration of the harvest.
It’s a tongue-tangling hodgepodge of nationalities in the city;
a regular United Nations summer camp,
and the disciples, stir crazy from waiting
for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit that Jesus had promised
are hanging out in some seedy hotel lounge drinking bad coffee and eating day old danishes.

Suddenly a breeze kicks up, scattering paper cups and napkins.
Matthew has to clamp down on his toupee to keep it from blowing off.
“Who turned the fan on,” Andrew shouts.
He has to shout because the roar of the wind is deafening
and the air is electrified making their hair stand on end.
Witnesses later would describe it
as though tongues of flame rested on each disciples head.
All they knew was that they saw light, and felt warmth, and experienced community.

They experienced community through the gift of sacred speech.
A crowd gathered and in that alphabet soup of nationalities represented
each reported being able to understand what the disciples were telling them –
stories of God’s deeds of power told in their own language
with a Galilean accent.

At some point the wind died down and the story-telling stopped
and, like you always do when something incredible happens,
you grab whoever’s closest and you begin comparing experiences.
Then you grab your cell phone and dial up whoever’s on your “Friends and Family” plan
and say, “You’ll never believe what just happened.”
And, sure enough, someone won’t believe it.
They’ll say something snide or catty like,
“Sounds like somebody’s been hittin’ the sauce a LITTLE early…”
Because, no matter what, some people just have to be skeptics.

That’s Peter’s cue.
Whatever you may have thought of Peter as the lights dimmed on the crucifixion
and he sat shivering in the dark, scared out of his wits
devastated by his triple denial of Jesus –
whatever you may have thought of THAT Peter,
you’ve got to realize that as Luke begins the story of Acts
the post-resurrection Peter is a changed man.
In fact, I would say that the rehabilitation of Peter in the gospel story
is one of the most powerful indicators of resurrection we have.

Peter emerges as the leader of the twelve
and on their behalf he addresses those gathered that day.
He begins his sermon with words from the prophet Joel,
words his audience is well familiar with.
“In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.”

Peter may truly have believed that their experience marked
the beginning of an end that would come quickly,
an end that would come, in Joel’s words, with “blood, and fire, and smoky mist.”
In hindsight we understand that the gift of the Holy Spirit that day
was a sign, not of the end, but of the beginning of a new reality.

Until that point, the disciples couldn’t be sure
that Jesus’ life among them was not just an anomaly,
a holy blip on the radar screen that would last only as long
as they could, by their own efforts, keep his memory alive.
In other words, not very long.
Even their experience of the Resurrected Lord, as powerful as that was for them,
only had power for as long as they could keep it going.

But the gift of the Holy Spirit that day brought with it the assurance
that the toehold Jesus had gained for God’s realm on earth
was only the beginning of an everlasting shift of power.
Until then they could only hope that God was in control.
After that day, however, there was no question.
It’s not that the sun shown any brighter or people got nicer.
But with the Holy Spirit on the loose they could be assured
that no matter how menacing the forces of violence and fear and division loomed,
those forces were, in the end, no match
for the light, warmth, and community that are hallmarks of the Spirit.

I’ve mentioned this already, but please indulge me.
A couple of weeks ago I played a simple little pickup game of basketball
while visiting family in Louisville, KY.
Will and I were in a park shooting baskets when three high school-aged young men
came by and asked if they could shoot, too.
Then they asked if I wanted to play two-on-two.

I was reluctant to play because I had just been through physical therapy
to regain the full range of motion in my shoulders.
Up until then I hadn’t even been ABLE to play basketball for a long time.
I didn’t know if my body would still recognize the mental commands of basketball.
I was reluctant also because I realized I was older than the three of them put together -
them and their springy legs and flexible arms.

Thank goodness it was only a half-court game!
I was paired with the best of the three and I was happy for him to carry the offense.
As we played an African-American man in his late 30’s came up
leading two toddlers by the hands.
The three of them stopped to watch the four of us play.
When I would crouch in a defensive stance the father would yell,
“Uh oh! Pops is puttin’ on the defense!”
When I would jump for a rebound he would yell,
“Pops is goin’ up for that ball!”
And then once – once – when I took a pass, made a head fake,
and somehow, thank you JESUS, managed to lay the ball in the basket
without turning my ankle or breaking a hip,
the father of two yelled out, “Pop’s got skills!” “Pop’s got skills!”

It feels kind of silly talking about it now. But you have no idea how good that felt.
Or maybe you do. The sun shining. Sweat tricking down my back.
having somebody recognize my skills, “Pops” or no “Pops.”
That’s the gift of Pentecost, the gift of the Spirit doing its work.
When you’re happy to be alive in the company of fellow human beings;
feeling connected, with barriers of age and race broken down.
You know what Paul was talking about when he says that the whole creation
waits with eager anticipation,
GROANING in anticipation as we wait for adoption, for redemption,
for that time when it won’t be an occasional thing, a once-in-awhile kind of thing,
but a daily, hourly, moment by moment feeling
of Light. of Warmth. of Community. Church.