“Wild Geese, Holy Fire”

Pentecost Sunday

May 19, 2024

Acts 2:1-21

John 15:26-27; 16:4b-15

Children’s Message:

Does anyone know what today is? Take a look around you. What new decorations do you see? Red banners, symbols of fire, doves. Today is Pentecost! It’s the day we celebrate how the Holy Spirit came to the disciples and changed everything!

Before that day, the disciples were confused and a bit scared. Jesus had died, and then they saw him alive and walking and talking and teaching and eating. And then, just as they were getting used to having Jesus back, he went away again—he went into heaven. What do you think the disciples felt when Jesus left them?

Yes…sad. Disappointed. Frustrated. They didn’t know what to do next. Their leader left, and they were a little bit lost. Kind of like this balloon. Can we do much with a balloon when it’s like this? Not really.

But as the disciples were gathered, they heard the sound of a rushing, violent wind. This wasn’t any old breeze—it was like a tornado came through the room! And heat rushed through them, giving them the ability to speak in all different languages so that they could tell people from all over the world about Jesus! And suddenly, filled with the Spirit’s power, the disciples began spreading the good news to the world.

Let’s pray. Dear God, fill us with your Spirit so that we know how to share the story of Jesus to everyone we meet. Amen.

Message:

I ready a story this week about a flock of geese that settled in the parking lot of a mall. One mama goose even built her nest on a parking berm in the midst of traffic and city noise. The whole situation has caused a bit of a kerfuffle, as the geese tend to chase those parked to close to the nests, causing people to flee back to the cars or into the stores. And anyone who has been around geese knows who will win this little war. And it isn’t the humans.

Instead, these wild geese have changed the human behaviors of those at the mall. Stubborn, unpredictable, and chaotic, the geese will have their way. So, it’s completely understandable that Christians of the Celtic tradition don’t imagine the Spirit as a peaceful dove but as a wild goose—noisy, courageous, and sometimes altogether frightening.

In some ways, it’s unfortunate that we don’t hold baptisms in rushing rivers. Instead, we calmly pour the water into the font. We invite the families to bring newborns up front where we say beautiful prayers, sprinkle a little water over their heads, and light a special candle. It’s all so sanitary and predictable and safe.

Even our reading of the Pentecost story is controlled and measured. A wind came through the room, and a tongue of fire alighted on each person, giving them the ability to speak in many tongues, languages, and dialects.

We gather each Sunday, sit in the same pews as always, expect an ordered worship service that begins with the Gathering, then the Word, moves on to the Meal, and ends with the Sending. Everything in its proper place. And then we go out, shaking hands, making plans, and going about our business almost as if nothing extraordinary has happened.

Annie Dillard is often quoted from her book “Teaching the Stones to Talk:”

“Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it?... we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews.”

Perhaps we need to be passing out hard hats instead of bulletins, because while we might like a Holy Spirit in the form of a peaceful dove or a lovely tongue of fire, what we’re really invoking is a Holy Spirit of deluge and transformation—a wild goose, a mighty wind, a flame that changes everything.

Martin Luther describes the Spirit as the power that calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies the Church and God’s people. No wonder we Lutherans are considered a heady bunch of people, living our faith in the confines of the mind rather than the heart. Instead, Luke describes the effect of the Spirit on that Pentecost Day: the people were amazed, bewildered, astonished, and perplexed. These aren’t descriptions of well-rehearsed responses. They are responses born in the gut. Reflexes. Instinctual. Primal.

They are the responses of a people being chased by a wild goose.

So, what is it that we hope for, expect, anticipate happening when we gather here every week? We do our best to control the various circumstances—plan the hymns, rehearse the sermon, edit the powerpoint. And as we return to everyday life, we will look to our calendars, make our lists, and set our goals.

What we can’t plan for, rehearse for, make arrangements for, or schedule is how the Holy Spirit shows up in us, for us. How she disrupts everything, transforms everything, gets in our way and creates unexpected and determined chaos that absolutely cannot be controlled.

These days, we often comment on how our devices—phones, tablets, computers—have become some sort of diversion tactic in our lives. We live with our faces down, hands busy typing and texting, eyes scanning posts and memes and videos. But it’s not the devices. We’ve learned long before cell phones how to tune out what is around us—how to put blinders on and move from one task to another, one event to another, one moment to another. To convince ourselves we are in control—of life, of death, of each other, of creation.

Today is a reminder of the holy chaos of possibility always resting just below the surface of our delusions. The possibility of new life that hovered over the darkness, bringing forth all of creation. The possibility of a way forward when the Israelites were trapped at the Red Sea. The possibility of birth for Sarah and Hannah and Elizabeth. The possibility of God in the flesh. The possibility of life emerging from a tomb. The possibility of a church that transcends all boundaries of politics, nations, languages, colors, backgrounds, identities, ages, and even religion.

The holy disruption of wild geese, and flames, and deluge, and violent wind stirring up any sense of control and moving us out into a wild, beautiful, chaotic world filled with possibility.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE