Like A Breath Of Fresh Air
Sermon
LIKE A BREATH OF FRESH AIR
Sermons For Pentecost (First Third)
One of the several things we all have in common is the sheer enjoyment of receiving gifts. While we may not always say so, our feelings are at least slightly wounded if our birthday is forgotten. Christmas is not memorable if, because of economic conditions, or because we were extravagant with gifts for others, our gifts are fewer in number. I've also observed that as many of us add years to our lives, the gifts we do receive are more predictable and much more practical.
We like receiving gifts! Now gifts are especially fun if they come at unexpected times, on days not generally associated with gift-giving. When gifts come from out of nowhere, from persons we least expect to honor us in such a way, we are overwhelmed with gratitude. Ordinary days are transformed by a simple gesture of someone presenting a gift.
Gifts have a way of making us feel important. When we receive gifts we feel loved and accepted and affirmed and appreciated. All of those are feelings without which none of us could live for very long. To be the recipient of a gift, to be a "gifted" person, is to acknowledge that we are special; it is to acknowledge our uniqueness and worth as members of the human family, in relationship with other members of the same family. Such gifts have a way of adding quality to our lives.
If we happen to be having "one of those days," when everything we are working for seems to turn out wrong, a gift can change our entire mood and perspective. On those particularly difficult days a gift will renew our confidence, lighten our hearts, brighten our path, perk up our spirits. "Somebody cares!"
One of those religious proverbs which we have grown up with, and by which we have been instructed through our years in and around the church, and one we know well: it's better to give than to receive. But, honestly, there are also times and occasions when we all like being on the receiving end.
Our text for the day is set on the evening of the day of resurrection. The disciples are still, some 12 hours later, bewildered, confused and uncertain about the news which has been whispered to them by the women. They have gathered on this evening behind locked doors. And it is in that room, filled with fear, with doors and windows pulled tight, that the risen Jesus appears. In the beginning, his appearing simply adds to their fear and increases their confusion. But as we listen to that text, I hear Jesus saying to them, "I want to give you something. Just a little something to remember me by: a parting gift, if you will!"
Notice what Jesus does not say about this parting gift for his friends, for the church. He does not say: "Well now, since the resurrection is in the books, and my ascension is not far away, I would like to give you something. So, what would you like? You name it and we'll see what we can do!" Neither does Jesus spin a glittering stage with flashing lights, filled with glamorous prizes with inflated prices and say, "take your pick." Neither does he take his leave with these parting words, "if you do not like it, you may return it; if it does not fit, you may exchange it. And it will not hurt my feelings in the least if you want to take it back and find something that is more you."
Rather, John's recording of what transpired in that room is brief and straight to the point: "He breathed on them" and then he said, "receive the Holy Spirit." It is the gift of the Holy Spirit that we have come to associate with the experience of "Pentecost." It's a Pentecost present! But this picture in John's gospel is different from that depicted for us in Luke's more familiar and traditional account in the second chapter of Acts. John's version is more like a series of quick snapshots, taken at random around the room. The lens of John's camera quickly moves from one shot to another, focusing first on a locked door, then a mysterious stirring, now a scarred hand, and frightened faces. Luke's version is more like a video with special effects. Look at John's pictures and you catch a glimpse of that which is "gift" -- the Holy Spirit. It is presented to the world as a special present to a unique group of people, who are now more blessed to have received. And who, by that same gift, are enabled and empowered to share the gift with others.
"He breathed on them!" What a marvelous word-picture that captures the nature of the "giftedness" of the Holy Spirit. "He breathed on them." The very breath of Christ, that which was and is the life of Christ, is the life of the Holy Spirit. The breath of Christ becomes the wind of the Spirit. The energy and warmth of the very being of Christ is the fire of the Spirit. God, the Redeemer Christ, "gifts" the church with a saving breath of life.
It is the same breath that moved over the storms of chaos, and brought order to creation. It is the same breath that moved over a valley filled with dried, scorched bones in order to restore life to a people before the eyes of Ezekiel. Now, on this night, it is the same breath which moves over a group of fear-filled disciples, huddling in a room of uncertainty, and transforms them into the dynamic, energy-filled servants we call the church.
For them, and for us, that gift is like a breath of fresh air. The room that night, located on some forgotten alley of Jerusalem was heavy with stale air. The doors were shut and locked. The openings that passed for windows were covered and tacked down. The candles flickered shadows against those dark mud/brick walls. If you have ever walked into an old house that has been shut up for any length of time, with sheets draped over ancient, worn-out furniture, you know the smell. Moldy. Musty. It was where they had gathered.
The room was heavy with the mood of staleness, stifling the ability to breathe normally. That handful of would-be disciples had difficulty catching their breath, for fear: fearing for their own lives; fearing the worst (the body probably was stolen!); fearing the best (what if he is alive!); fearing the future, without the presence of their Rabbi-Master-Messiah; fearing their own relationships, already suspicious of one another. Can they really trust one another any longer?
How often I have been in a church committee meeting filled with the same kind of fear. Here we come, gathering like shaky disciples locked into our "poor-us" syndrome; filled with fear that the budget may not be reached, or that the latest squabble among persons will result in division. How often I have been in seminars and continuing education events, with walls closing in for lack of anything new or stimulating. All I wanted was to get away to grab a breath of fresh air. If I could somehow get outside for a moment and breathe again, then I know I will be refreshed and renewed and can then go back to face the next round.
"He breathed on them," and it was like a breath of fresh air. When that breath was felt, things changed and lives changed. It became for them like a gentle breeze stirred by a fan on a hot summer day; or, like sitting on a porch, or under a tree in the cool of the evening. You could feel the wind/Spirit as if throwing open the windows for a spring-time airing of a house closed for months against the cold and dark of winter.
The act of breathing on them was followed in the same motion with the word that was the gift. "Receive the Holy Spirit!" There are no flashing signs, no loud sirens and no gimmicks to hook the suspicious long enough to get their names on the roster. "Here is the gift of life, which will be like a breath of fresh air to a stale world. For in receiving this gift, you receive my spirit," Jesus seems to be saying. In that giftedness, the disciples discover that their fear is replaced with joy, their shyness is replaced with boldness, their hesitation is replaced with courage, and their sense of lostness is replaced with a sense of purpose.
Now, with that joy, boldness, courage and purpose, the disciples move out from behind their locked doors. From all the accounts of the gift-Spirit, it is quite apparent that this gift means action. This is not a gift to place on the mantel, or in a trophy case, or to hang on a wall with the other symbols of our specialness. This is not a gift to preserve and protect, grateful for having been thus blessed to receive, but it's mine and no one else's! Rather, this gift sends us out as Christ's representatives to the world.
As the recipients of this gift, those disciples walked out of that room, and into the world as a church: formed and reformed out of chaos and uncertainty by the breath of Christ; endowed with power and mission from the word of Christ. That breath-gift invigorated them for the task that awaited. Jesus had prefaced his gift-giving with the assignment: "I send you." And he follows it with the responsibility of authority. They, and now we, are commissioned to be about the work of forgiveness, the "ministry of reconciliation" and the word of grace. They, and now we, are to bring that fresh life-giving Spirit to a world which continues to shut its doors in fear. We are empowered to breathe new life into a stale world that yearns to breathe free.
Everywhere we look in our recent past there seems to be a breath of fresh air in our world. Walls and curtains are being removed, and new life is being breathed into situations that less than a decade ago seemed futile and doomed. Corporations are trying to breathe new life into their organizations by increasing the number of decision-making centers, spreading them through the work force, and moving toward a more participatory style. The chief executive officer of a local manufacturing plant recently told a group of citizens in the community where I now live, that his number one priority was to turn his managers into leaders so that they could breathe new life into that organization. At every level, on every continent, there is a new wind blowing. People are being set free, and it is like having a breath of fresh air piped into their systems.
For all those new movements and experimental efforts at breathing new life into the world, there remains the staleness of fear and uncertainty and a foreboding sense of chaos even amid the winds that are blowing. What the world longs to breathe was given to the church in the breath of Christ. Pentecost may be the report of an action in the first century; but it is the hope of new action and new life for the 21st century. And it is through the church, whose very life is dependent on that breath of Christ, and whose very life is itself a gift, that God's breath of fresh air will stir and renew the world.
Prayer: May God's Spirit renew us, and empower us, and move us to action in the name of the One who breathes on us and presents us with a gift that is life for us and for this world. And it will be like a breath of fresh air.
We like receiving gifts! Now gifts are especially fun if they come at unexpected times, on days not generally associated with gift-giving. When gifts come from out of nowhere, from persons we least expect to honor us in such a way, we are overwhelmed with gratitude. Ordinary days are transformed by a simple gesture of someone presenting a gift.
Gifts have a way of making us feel important. When we receive gifts we feel loved and accepted and affirmed and appreciated. All of those are feelings without which none of us could live for very long. To be the recipient of a gift, to be a "gifted" person, is to acknowledge that we are special; it is to acknowledge our uniqueness and worth as members of the human family, in relationship with other members of the same family. Such gifts have a way of adding quality to our lives.
If we happen to be having "one of those days," when everything we are working for seems to turn out wrong, a gift can change our entire mood and perspective. On those particularly difficult days a gift will renew our confidence, lighten our hearts, brighten our path, perk up our spirits. "Somebody cares!"
One of those religious proverbs which we have grown up with, and by which we have been instructed through our years in and around the church, and one we know well: it's better to give than to receive. But, honestly, there are also times and occasions when we all like being on the receiving end.
Our text for the day is set on the evening of the day of resurrection. The disciples are still, some 12 hours later, bewildered, confused and uncertain about the news which has been whispered to them by the women. They have gathered on this evening behind locked doors. And it is in that room, filled with fear, with doors and windows pulled tight, that the risen Jesus appears. In the beginning, his appearing simply adds to their fear and increases their confusion. But as we listen to that text, I hear Jesus saying to them, "I want to give you something. Just a little something to remember me by: a parting gift, if you will!"
Notice what Jesus does not say about this parting gift for his friends, for the church. He does not say: "Well now, since the resurrection is in the books, and my ascension is not far away, I would like to give you something. So, what would you like? You name it and we'll see what we can do!" Neither does Jesus spin a glittering stage with flashing lights, filled with glamorous prizes with inflated prices and say, "take your pick." Neither does he take his leave with these parting words, "if you do not like it, you may return it; if it does not fit, you may exchange it. And it will not hurt my feelings in the least if you want to take it back and find something that is more you."
Rather, John's recording of what transpired in that room is brief and straight to the point: "He breathed on them" and then he said, "receive the Holy Spirit." It is the gift of the Holy Spirit that we have come to associate with the experience of "Pentecost." It's a Pentecost present! But this picture in John's gospel is different from that depicted for us in Luke's more familiar and traditional account in the second chapter of Acts. John's version is more like a series of quick snapshots, taken at random around the room. The lens of John's camera quickly moves from one shot to another, focusing first on a locked door, then a mysterious stirring, now a scarred hand, and frightened faces. Luke's version is more like a video with special effects. Look at John's pictures and you catch a glimpse of that which is "gift" -- the Holy Spirit. It is presented to the world as a special present to a unique group of people, who are now more blessed to have received. And who, by that same gift, are enabled and empowered to share the gift with others.
"He breathed on them!" What a marvelous word-picture that captures the nature of the "giftedness" of the Holy Spirit. "He breathed on them." The very breath of Christ, that which was and is the life of Christ, is the life of the Holy Spirit. The breath of Christ becomes the wind of the Spirit. The energy and warmth of the very being of Christ is the fire of the Spirit. God, the Redeemer Christ, "gifts" the church with a saving breath of life.
It is the same breath that moved over the storms of chaos, and brought order to creation. It is the same breath that moved over a valley filled with dried, scorched bones in order to restore life to a people before the eyes of Ezekiel. Now, on this night, it is the same breath which moves over a group of fear-filled disciples, huddling in a room of uncertainty, and transforms them into the dynamic, energy-filled servants we call the church.
For them, and for us, that gift is like a breath of fresh air. The room that night, located on some forgotten alley of Jerusalem was heavy with stale air. The doors were shut and locked. The openings that passed for windows were covered and tacked down. The candles flickered shadows against those dark mud/brick walls. If you have ever walked into an old house that has been shut up for any length of time, with sheets draped over ancient, worn-out furniture, you know the smell. Moldy. Musty. It was where they had gathered.
The room was heavy with the mood of staleness, stifling the ability to breathe normally. That handful of would-be disciples had difficulty catching their breath, for fear: fearing for their own lives; fearing the worst (the body probably was stolen!); fearing the best (what if he is alive!); fearing the future, without the presence of their Rabbi-Master-Messiah; fearing their own relationships, already suspicious of one another. Can they really trust one another any longer?
How often I have been in a church committee meeting filled with the same kind of fear. Here we come, gathering like shaky disciples locked into our "poor-us" syndrome; filled with fear that the budget may not be reached, or that the latest squabble among persons will result in division. How often I have been in seminars and continuing education events, with walls closing in for lack of anything new or stimulating. All I wanted was to get away to grab a breath of fresh air. If I could somehow get outside for a moment and breathe again, then I know I will be refreshed and renewed and can then go back to face the next round.
"He breathed on them," and it was like a breath of fresh air. When that breath was felt, things changed and lives changed. It became for them like a gentle breeze stirred by a fan on a hot summer day; or, like sitting on a porch, or under a tree in the cool of the evening. You could feel the wind/Spirit as if throwing open the windows for a spring-time airing of a house closed for months against the cold and dark of winter.
The act of breathing on them was followed in the same motion with the word that was the gift. "Receive the Holy Spirit!" There are no flashing signs, no loud sirens and no gimmicks to hook the suspicious long enough to get their names on the roster. "Here is the gift of life, which will be like a breath of fresh air to a stale world. For in receiving this gift, you receive my spirit," Jesus seems to be saying. In that giftedness, the disciples discover that their fear is replaced with joy, their shyness is replaced with boldness, their hesitation is replaced with courage, and their sense of lostness is replaced with a sense of purpose.
Now, with that joy, boldness, courage and purpose, the disciples move out from behind their locked doors. From all the accounts of the gift-Spirit, it is quite apparent that this gift means action. This is not a gift to place on the mantel, or in a trophy case, or to hang on a wall with the other symbols of our specialness. This is not a gift to preserve and protect, grateful for having been thus blessed to receive, but it's mine and no one else's! Rather, this gift sends us out as Christ's representatives to the world.
As the recipients of this gift, those disciples walked out of that room, and into the world as a church: formed and reformed out of chaos and uncertainty by the breath of Christ; endowed with power and mission from the word of Christ. That breath-gift invigorated them for the task that awaited. Jesus had prefaced his gift-giving with the assignment: "I send you." And he follows it with the responsibility of authority. They, and now we, are commissioned to be about the work of forgiveness, the "ministry of reconciliation" and the word of grace. They, and now we, are to bring that fresh life-giving Spirit to a world which continues to shut its doors in fear. We are empowered to breathe new life into a stale world that yearns to breathe free.
Everywhere we look in our recent past there seems to be a breath of fresh air in our world. Walls and curtains are being removed, and new life is being breathed into situations that less than a decade ago seemed futile and doomed. Corporations are trying to breathe new life into their organizations by increasing the number of decision-making centers, spreading them through the work force, and moving toward a more participatory style. The chief executive officer of a local manufacturing plant recently told a group of citizens in the community where I now live, that his number one priority was to turn his managers into leaders so that they could breathe new life into that organization. At every level, on every continent, there is a new wind blowing. People are being set free, and it is like having a breath of fresh air piped into their systems.
For all those new movements and experimental efforts at breathing new life into the world, there remains the staleness of fear and uncertainty and a foreboding sense of chaos even amid the winds that are blowing. What the world longs to breathe was given to the church in the breath of Christ. Pentecost may be the report of an action in the first century; but it is the hope of new action and new life for the 21st century. And it is through the church, whose very life is dependent on that breath of Christ, and whose very life is itself a gift, that God's breath of fresh air will stir and renew the world.
Prayer: May God's Spirit renew us, and empower us, and move us to action in the name of the One who breathes on us and presents us with a gift that is life for us and for this world. And it will be like a breath of fresh air.
