Today's Sermon

 

“Who Can Withhold? Spirit 4"

 

Psalm 98:1a, 4-9
O sing to the Lord a new song, for God has done marvelous things. Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth; break forth into joyous song and sing praises. Sing praises to the Lord with the lyre, with the lyre and the sound of melody. With trumpets and the sound of the horn make a joyful noise before the King, the Lord. Let the sea roar and all that fills it, the world and those who live in it. Let the floods clap their hands; let the hills sing together for joy at the presence of the Lord, for God is coming to judge the earth. God will judge the world with righteousness and the peoples with equity.

 

I love this imagery of the earth being so overcome with the joy of God that praise just springs forth. The sea roars, the hills sing together. When the Spirit moves, the earth cannot help but respond. As we continue our worship series on Spirit today, I want to consider the many ways that the Spirit moves in and through all of creation.

Today is Mother’s Day, and though we tend to not celebrate secular holidays during worship, I found a beautiful Mother’s Day prayer that I want to share with you today. It is written by the Rev. Hannah Burge Sachs. Let us pray …

Divine Nurturer, You are the source of all tenderness, the one who knit us together. Today, we lift up the multifaceted reality of what it means to mother and be mothered.

We celebrate the abundance of this day. We give thanks for those who mothered us into being: biological, adoptive, and spiritual parents who carried us until we could walk on our own. We celebrate the excitement of the first-time parent and the grit of those showing up day after day to the exhausting, holy work of raising children.

We hold space today for the waiting and the wanting. We pray for those who cry out from the depths of their hearts as their own dreams feel dormant. We see those in the wilderness and those learning to inhabit the hollow presence of an absence. We pray for those now carrying the ones who once carried them, navigating seasons of decline.

We bless the mothering found in the margins. We see the neighbors, the mentors, and the chosen kin who practice a protective, wide reaching care. We see those who have claimed a belonging that biology did not dictate. We pray for those who have had to let go of a child so they might flourish elsewhere; and for those who must watch their children navigate difficult paths from a distance.

We pray for the healing of our own hearts. We hold space for those for whom the word “mother” brings a sting; for those whose childhoods were marked by survival rather than sanctuary. We bless the sacred, gutsy work of those who are learning for the first time to give themselves the mothering they have always deserved.

Holy Parent, remind us that your love is the first home we ever knew. You are the mother hen who gathers her chicks under the safety of her wings; you are the midwife who breathes with us in the dark and brings us forth into the light.

Whether we are celebrating, mourning, or simply breathing through this day, remind us that we are, and have always been, your beloved children. Amen.[i]

 

May the mothering Spirit be with us all.

Certainly, we experience the Spirit in our human relationships. Psalm 98 reminds us that we experience the Spirit in creation as well. God’s Spirit is all around us all the time. Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth, says the Psalmist. May we do just that. And, may we also know that the Spirit is about much more than just joy and praise, though that is very important. Let’s move to our next scripture reading, from the book of Acts. I am going to read the very end of a much longer story, so let me set the scene. After Jesus’ death and resurrection, two very separate and distinct groups began to follow the way of Jesus. Those who were Jewish, and those who were Gentiles (not Jewish). I am not overstating when I say they were very separate and very distinct. They did not co-mingle. But then, a leader of each group had a vision. Cornelius, one of the Gentile leaders, is told in his vision to invite Simon Peter – one of Jesus’ original disciples - to his house. This is definitely out of the ordinary. Jews and Gentiles just did not associate with one another. But, when an angel speaks to you, that is hard to ignore! So Cornelius sends some messengers to Peter with the invitation.

As the men are on their way to Peter, he has a vision about clean and unclean animals, and what is OK to eat. In this vision, God is giving him a more expansive idea about what had previously been very rigid boundaries for the Jewish followers of Jesus. The Spirit also tells him to go with the men who are about to knock on his door.

Cornelius’ people find Peter, and he and some of his friends return with them to visit Cornelius. When he arrives, Peter notes just how odd this gathering is. He tells Cornelius, “You know that it is unlawful for a Jew to associate with or to visit a Gentile; but God has shown me that I should not call anyone profane or unclean. So when I was sent for, I came without objection.” Peter and Cornelius then begin to share with one another and with those gathered about their visions and about their faith, and then – finally – we get to our second scripture reading for today from Acts, chapter 10.

“While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit fell upon all who heard the word. The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles, for they heard them speaking in tongues and extolling God. Then Peter said, ‘Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?’ So he ordered them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. Then they invited him to stay for several days.”

The gifts of the Holy Spirit were poured out on everyone! Jews, Gentiles, it didn’t matter. Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing, Peter asks. I love this question. The Spirit is moving and dancing and making itself known among us. Who are we to withhold this gift from anyone? There is no “in” group and “out” group. No perceived boundaries will prevent the Spirit from sharing the love of God with all people. Who can withhold? No one! The Spirit is for all, crossing all dividing lines. Jew/Gentile, Democrat/Republican, male/female … whether it be race, education level, income level, sexual orientation, the list goes on … it does not matter. No one withholds the Spirit from anyone. And if the Spirit can break through those barriers, those very human divisions, so can we. So must we.

Did you notice the end of this story? The Gentiles are baptized, and then Peter and his friends stay “for several days.” They don’t just say their piece and leave. This isn’t a drive-by baptism. No, the two groups remain together, getting to know each other, likely realizing that much more unites them than separates. May they be an example for us all.

Who can withhold? I hear something else in that question as well. I hear a wondering about how we allow the Spirit to work in and through us. The Spirit is powerful, enlivening us with each breath we take. What is the Spirit wanting to do in your life? How is it calling you out of your comfort zone? And will you withhold your energy or participation or love, or will you jump into the work of the Spirit, whatever that looks like in your life? The Psalmist reminds us that the floods are clapping their hands and the hills are singing together for joy. Let us not withhold the work of the Spirit; let us join in with the Spirit.

John Bell is a Scottish pastor, a member of the Iona community, as well as a prolific hymn writer. I took a look at our hymnal this week and discovered that it contains 18 John Bell hymns, many of which you would likely recognize. One of my favorites of his is actually not in our hymnal. I think it may be one of the best titled songs ever. It is a song about the Holy Spirit, and it is titled, “Enemy of Apathy.” Isn’t that great? What a perfect way to describe the Spirit. For the Spirit is anything but apathetic. And it encourages us to lose our apathy as well. To respond in praise and in joy. To overcome what divides us. To build bridges rather than walls. To dance and sing and wonder. Who can withhold when the Spirit is in our midst? The Spirit truly is the enemy of apathy.

I want to share the song with you this morning. In between each verse, I will read a reflection from Ruth Harvey, who also a part of the Iona community in Scotland. I hope that both the sung and spoken reflections will encourage you to consider the movement of the Spirit in your own life.

She sits like a bird, brooding on the waters,
hovering on the chaos of the world’s first day;
she sighs and she sings, mothering creation,
waiting to give birth to all the Word will say.

Sitting. Waiting. Here we are, sitting, waiting. Silently we take in the noises and the movements around us. We listen to the beat of our own hearts, to the breeze of our breath moving – in – out – in – out, feeding, nourishing our bodies. We sense others around us. We are aware of the shape of the room, of the feel of the pew holding us. We can sense the light from the windows. And we are aware of our own bodies, full and beautiful, living and relating, created by God for our pleasure.

We sit and we wait. And in our sitting, we hover, we brood – never quite settled, never quite still – always perched, ready to move – to move by the power of breath in our bodies. To move with the power of the Holy Spirit dwelling in us.

She wings over earth, resting where she wishes,
lighting close at hand or soaring through the skies;
she nests in the womb, welcoming each wonder,
nourishing potential hidden to our eyes.

Nourishment. Food. Sustenance – reaching deep down and reviving us. Where are you most deeply nourished? Where do you feel most energy flooding into your body and soul? In the quiet moments of the early morning? In the weary rest of the late evening? On the top of a high mountain? In the company of good friends? Perhaps it is when you are listening to good music, or when you go for a long walk and are aware of the sounds and the smells and the sights that you would normally take for granted. Or maybe it is when you are browsing in a bookshop. Wherever you feel nourished, drawn out unexpectedly and refreshed, there the Spirit is moving.

She dances in fire, startling her spectators,
waking tongues of ecstasy where dumbness reigned;
she weans and inspires all whose hearts are open,
nor can she be captured, silenced or restrained.

She was certainly not to be restrained this particular evening. She staggered in from her home on the streets into our worship in the church center with her mate, both of them weaving and dodging each other in their drunken haze. She had red, fiery hair; a long tweed coat; a plastic handbag draped over her crooked arm and a plaster cast on her left leg. As she stumbled in, startling the worshippers, we were singing, ‘Lord of the Dance.’ When we got to the line, ‘they cut me down and I leapt up high’ – she came alive. Her arms shot into the air and SHE DANCED, while we sang. And for those few minutes her whole body smiled. She was a wild woman. A wild dancer filled with the Spirit. We didn’t exchange words. We didn’t muddle ourselves with borrowed language. We spoke in smiles, and twirls and whoops and yelps – in tongues of ecstasy.

For she is the Spirit, one with God in essence,
gifted by the Saviour in eternal love;
she is the key opening the scriptures,
enemy of apathy and heavenly dove.

She is the Spirit, Ruach, Sophia, Wisdom, the creator of the Word. She is with us always, opening our eyes, dancing in our hearts, wooing us to the words of God. She is eternal love. She is the key, the channel, the wind and the fire, the way ahead and the comfort all around. She is the graceful, peaceful dove enfolding us in her love. And she is the disturbing, enraging wild goose never allowing us to become lazy, always cajoling us on to new love and life. She is the enemy of apathy.[ii] Amen.

[i] https://sanctifiedart.org/blog/mothering-sunday-prayers?fbclid=IwY2xjawRd89lleHRuA2FlbQIxMABicmlkETF6R0ZwRFZRYkNIRm91eklIc3J0YwZhcHBfaWQQMjIyMDM5MTc4ODIwMDg5MgABHlqoDuem92hnziXMWY-tqrpNOherUrKsrtV6vVZIjxirkmGB98gNnc-O-RuE_aem_wC6jkNl3_4kXn-YkCC44WQ 

[ii] From Fire and Bread, ed. Ruth Burgess, pg. 162.