Grace and peace from the Mystery in whom we live and move and have our being.
… we hear, each of us, in our own native language.”
Acts 2: 1-21
The Pentecost story from the book of Acts is such a story in contrasts.
The disciples, hiding in fear, wanting to be isolated, are thrust out into the world with a big spotlight on them. The peoples of the world, separated by language and culture, are now united in a common story. A common experience. The bubbles they have been living in are shattered, popped, exploded.
And why? Because…
“… we hear, each of us, in our own native language.”
What a remarkable statement. “… we hear, each of us, in our own native language.”
So often in my life I have wanted people to express things in the way I would express them. So often in my life I have wanted people to explain things in the way I would explain them. So often in my life, I have been unwilling to understand another unless they put things through my language, my culture, my history filter.
I have made the description of my faith experience a prescription for others.
I think that is the down side to the phrase, “Help me understand.” It forces the other person to explain things in the way I think, I feel, I live. “Help me understand” demands that the other person enters into my world first, puts things in my perspective, before I can trust them or deal with them. Why can’t we trust others without having to understand them first?
“… we hear, each of us, in our own native language” … Is that something we can trust?
This phrase challenges us on how we understand unity. Does it mean uniformity? Does it mean sameness? Does it mean conformity?
“… we hear, each of us, in our own native language” … Is that something we can trust?
So often in my life, I have wanted to correct people when they wouldn’t say things the way I would say them. This was especially true when it came to faith statements, people describing their experience of the divine.
I had made the description of my faith experience a prescription for others. They had to say it in Christian terms, and not just Christian terms, but in my denominational terms. It seemed I was more interested in how they described their experience of God than whether or not they had an experience of God.
“… we hear, each of us, in our own native language”
What a remarkable statement. God comes to people where they are at. God meets them in their own language, their own culture, their own experience.
Each hears, each encounters, each experiences the love, grace and forgiveness of God without having to change first.
Let me repeat that:
Each hears, each encounters, each experiences the love, grace and forgiveness of God without having to change first.
When you contrast this Pentecost moment, with the Jesus story, the difference in the nouns is breathtaking.
In Jesus you have a singular person. At a singular point in time. In a singular place and culture.
In Pentecost, you have multitudes of people, from multiple cultures and languages, being impacted for multiple generations.
The nouns are all different. But the verbs, the relationships, the story is the same.
God’s grace is being poured out. God’s cup is overflowing. What Jesus lived out on a singular level, is now happening at a communal level, national level, world level.
The radicalness of Joel’s prophecy of the pouring out of God’s spirit is coming true. It isn’t just on men, but sons and young men, as well as old cantankerous, ‘get off my lawn’ men (and for that I am forever grateful). And on top of that, it is daughters as well. And if that isn’t enough, it is being poured out on slaves, both men and women. In a world where the caste system was seen as ordained by God, this is as radical as it gets.
“… we hear, each of us, in our own native language” … Is that something we can trust?
The older I get, the more I appreciate this statement. I find myself less concerned with whether people describe their God experience through my language, my terms, my constructs. More and more these days I find listening to others describe their faith journey invigorating and energizing. I find listening to them expands my experience of God and how God works in the world. I hear remarkable stories of how God has
expressed grace, mercy and forgiveness in ways that I never could have imagined.
Just as I have tried not to make the description of my faith journey a prescription for others, so have I learned to not make others’ description of their faith journey a prescription for me.
“… we hear, each of us, in our own native language”
And the more I hear them describe their faith journey in their language, the more I have begun to ask myself how have I experienced God in my language.
You see, when you begin your school years at a private Lutheran school. And then go to a Lutheran college, and then a Lutheran seminary, with a couple of years as a Lutheran missionary thrown into the middle of that… Well, at times, one can limit one’s experience of God to a certain expression, culture, or experience.
Perhaps this is one reason the Lutheran church is dying; it can’t see beyond its own expression or those similar to it. It doesn’t seem to trust those who have heard the gospel in their own language. It doesn’t see that there are Martin Luthers springing up throughout Christianity. Rob Bell from the evangelical community is one example. Rachel Held Evans was another. My friend Henry Rojas in the recovery community is a third. These three have put grace as primary and foundational in one’s relationship with God. Which is the core of Lutheranism, not, a liturgy or name on a church sign. Or a culture.
Do they always use northern European theological language? No, they actually use 21st Century American language. And why do they do this? So each can hear in their own language.
“… we hear, each of us, in our own native language”
This statement is a necessary attack on our denominationalism and tribalism. For it forces us outside of our pathetically tiny tents of tradition and into a world where the Spirit has been unleashed.
It exposes the absolute absurdity of the idea that a denomination can be in “Full Communion” with some churches and people, and not others. Look people, like it or not, we are in full communion with the entire world and all creation. We all came from the same God and we will all return to the same God. It is one Spirit that gives life to all.
We share the same DNA with all of creation. We are all in full communion with all of creation because we are all a part of creation. What an affront to the creator and the Spirit to think we can decide who we are in “full communion” with and who we are not. The institutional church will die, and rightfully so, if it can’t expand beyond its myopic view of the Spirit and Kingdom of God.
“… we hear, each of us, in our own native language”
I think this statement can not only open us up to the stories of others, and trusting their life experience of God, I think it can open us up to our own history, our own life experiences of God.
What is your life language? What is your native, spiritual tongue? How has God spoken to you? Don’t worry about putting it in the language of others. Don’t worry about making it acceptable to others. How has God spoken to you through your language, your history? What are those moments of grace, of mercy, of forgiveness? What are those moments of connection with others? When have you felt the love FROM God and neighbor as themself?
There is a profound statement here that affirms our unique life experiences, life history, life language.
What unites us is not our agreement on everything, a common belief, or expression. Heck, if that were the case, I wouldn’t even be united with myself. Because half the time I disagree with myself from one day to the next… No wait, that’s not right. It’s one minute to the next… Or is it…Oh, never mind.
What unites us is not our agreement on everything, a common belief, or expression. No, what unites us is a common experience. What unites us is a common forgiveness, a common mercy, a common grace.
What unites us is what has been poured out on ALL people, ‘the Spirit of God’ to quote again from the prophet Joel.
What unites us is what God has done and is doing in our world.
What unites us is not what we do, think, or feel. What unites us is what God has done for us.
If you need a clearer example of that, look no further than this meal. I think it is pretty safe to say that at this meal there was no meeting of the minds. Certainly, no agreement or common belief on who Jesus was and how he should act. I mean, Judas obviously wasn’t in agreement. Peter was in denial. And Thomas believed that… Oh who knows what Thomas believed? He doubted everything.
So, what would unite them? What would bring them together? What they couldn’t do for themselves would be done for them.
A little bread and a little wine. The forgiveness of sin pronounced over them. The presence of God placed in them.
There…in the story of Judas’ betrayal. There… in the story of Peter’s denial. There in the fear and doubts of the others. There. There was God’s presence and forgiveness. Uniting them.
And here, here in this bread and this wine. God’s presence and forgiveness. For me, for you. Connecting us, re-membering us, and uniting us who have different histories and use different language to express ourselves. Connecting us…just as we are. Without us having to do anything first.
Here. Here we find our unity. Our home.
Here! Here!
Amen
Wednesday Respite is a 30-min contemplative service of scripture, prayer, music and a Spirited Touchpoint by Spirit in the Desert faith mentor, Rev. “Bro. Jim” Hanson.
Touchpoint is a reflection on where God’s story touches our life story. It is a short homily based on a biblical story of people in the Old and New Testaments and their relationship with God. Our spiritual ancestors’ experience of God’s grace connects with our lives in the present and our relationship with the Divine. Previous Touchpoints are available as PDFs or on SoundCloud.
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