Pentecost Sunday

Smokin'!
by Frank Fisher, Obl OSB

That exclamation
of excitement and awe
emanates from the mouth
of a teenage visitor
to the very tiny congregation.
For an instant
the worshipers turn
and gape at the speaker
with open mouths.
Excitement,
you see,
isn’t a normal part
of this Presbyterian congregation’s
order of worship.
But the worshipers attention
quickly returns
 to the morning’s main distraction.
After all
 things are going on around them
that don’t seem to meet
 their proper criteria
of decency and order.

Propriety
has always been an important part
of the tiny congregation.
But they weren’t always tiny.
Once their Sanctuary,
in the church’s upper room,
had thronged with people.
All sorts of influential people
gathered there
every Sunday,
and frequently during the week,
for worship,
work and fellowship.
Lately though,
their membership had shrunk rapidly.
And as they gathered together for worship
on this Day of Pentecost,
they couldn’t help but wonder
how long it would be
before their doors
shut forever.

Then,
in the middle of the service,
in the midst of Pastor Johnson’s
somewhat boring sermon,
it happened.
All of sudden,
the pastor’s calm and peaceful phrases
were drowned out
by a roaring sound.
Lady’s hats,
and one or two
of the men’s hair pieces,
 went sailing into the air
as a hurricane force wind
burst through the doors and windows
and swirled
around and around the Sanctuary.
And in the midst of the wind
appeared tongues like fire
reaching down from the ceiling
towards the heads
of every person in the room.

“What can be happening,”
someone cried out with alarm!
“Don’t be afraid,”
answered Pastor Johnson
with a voice filled with awe.
“It’s Pentecost,
and the Spirit’s fire
 is falling again!”

Indeed it was
the Holy Spirit
coming among them,
and reminding them
of the day
Christ’s church was born.
For as the fiery tongues
reached each person,
they knew
the congregation
could have a future.
They knew
the Spirit could empower them
to reach out  to others
within their community.
They knew the Spirit
could give them the power
to speak in ways
their community both could hear
and needed to hear.
Exciting visions
of a vital ministry
 stretched before their eyes
as they saw the way
the Spirit could work through them
and empower their work.

But in the midst
 of their excitement,
they drew back.
“I just don’t know
if everyone will want
to do this kind of work,”
one worshiper observed.
“Yes,”
another agreed.
“It’s a nice idea,
but I’m not really sure
 we can fit it
 into our schedules.”
One by one
the worshipers agreed.
The path ahead
was impossible to tread.
Then in decency
 and in order
they filed out of the sanctuary,
shook Pastor Johnson’s hand,
and said,
“nice sermon pastor.”

Five years later
the congregation closed its doors
for the very last time.

“Smokin’!”

That exclamation
of excitement and awe
emanates
from the mouth
 of a teenage visitor
to the very tiny congregation.
For an instant
the worshipers turn
and gape at the speaker
with open mouths.
Excitement,
you see,
isn’t a normal part
of this Presbyterian congregation’s
order of worship.
But the worshipers attention
quickly returns
 to the morning’s main distraction.
After all
 things are going on around them
that don’t seem to meet
their proper criteria
of decency and order.

Propriety
has always been an important part
of the tiny congregation.
But they weren’t always tiny.
Worshipers both young and old
gathered here on the Lord’s day
to lift their hearts
in praise and thanks
to the Lord their God.

They were known
throughout the community
as an important force
in their worshiper’s lives
and a driving force
behind
 the very community’s existence.
The force and drive,
however,
had seemed to fade away
as time went by.
And as the reason
 behind the congregation’s existence
became forgotten,
 worshipers drifted away
to other places.
Today,
as they gathered together for worship
on this Day of Pentecost,
they couldn’t help but wonder
if it was worth their while
to continue their life together.

Then,
in the middle of the service,
in the midst
 of the prayers of the people
it happened.
All of sudden,
Pastor’s Meyer’s words
were drowned out
by a roaring sound.
Hymnals,
bulletins,
and the choir director’s robe
 went sailing into the air
as a hurricane force wind
burst
through the doors and windows
and swirled
around and around the Sanctuary.
And in the midst of the wind
appeared tongues like fire
 reaching down from the ceiling
towards the heads
of every person in the room.

“What can be happening,”
someone cried out with alarm!
“Don’t be afraid,”
answered Pastor Meyer
with a voice filled with awe.
“It’s Pentecost,
and the Spirit’s fire
is falling again!”

Indeed it was
the Holy Spirit
coming among them,
and reminding them
of the day
Christ’s church was born.
For as the fiery tongues
reached each person,
they knew the reason
for the congregation’s existence.
They knew
they existed
to embody Christ’s love
both to their community
and to the world.
They knew
the Spirit could empower them
to show that love.
They knew the Spirit could show them
the direction
 they needed to go
and the work
they needed to do.
Exciting visions
of a vital ministry
stretched before their eyes
as they saw the way
the Spirit
 could work through them
to bring the light and love of Christ
to everyone they met.

But in the midst of their excitement,
they reconsidered.
“This is a really good idea,”
one member observed.
“Yes,”
another agreed.
“Why don’t we make sure
 Pastor Meyer
does this work.
And we can hire some more staff
to work with her.”
One by one
the worshipers agreed
they’d direct the pastor and her staff
to get busy with the work
that needed to be done..
Then in decency and in order
they filed out of the sanctuary,
shook Pastor Meyer’s hand,
and said,
“it was a wonderful service.
We’ll talk some more
about what we need you to do
at our next Session meeting.”

As the years went by
the clarity and vision
they’d briefly observed
became more and more obscured
by the day to day tasks
of keeping their organization
functioning.
More and more worshipers
faded away
to more and more places.
 Eventually the members decided
there was no reason
to continue their common life.
And after a final worship service,
they said goodbye
and went on their separate ways.


“Smokin’!”

That exclamation
of excitement and awe
emanates
from the mouth of a teenage visitor
to the very tiny congregation.
For an instant
the worshipers
 turn and gape at the speaker
with open mouths.
Excitement,
you see,
isn’t a normal part
of this Presbyterian congregation’s
order of worship.
But the worshipers attention
quickly returns
 to the morning’s main distraction.
After all
 things are going on around them
that don’t seem to meet
their proper criteria
of decency and order.

Propriety
 has always been an important part
of the tiny congregation.
But they weren’t always tiny.
Once their church was important
to all those
who gathered there.
They knew  they were the body of Jesus Christ
and both empowered
and commanded to carry on
Christ’s work in the world.
Lately though,
other factors
had captured their attention.
They’d began to focus inwardly
toward themselves
and ceased to think
how they could personally
reach out their hands
 to Christ’s people.
And as they gathered together for worship
on this Day of Pentecost,
they weren’t even really sure
of the reason
why they came together
in this place.

Then,
in the middle of the service,
in the midst of the Lord’s Supper
it happened.
All of sudden,
the words of the pastor’s
great prayer of thanksgiving
were drowned out
by a roaring sound.
Communion bread,
the chalice,
and the pastor’s stole
 went sailing into the air
as a hurricane force wind
burst
 through the doors and windows
and swirled around and around
the Sanctuary.
And in the midst of the wind
appeared tongues like fire
reaching down from the ceiling
towards the heads
of every person in the room.

“What can be happening,”
someone cried out with alarm!
“Don’t be afraid,”
answered Pastor Smith
with a voice filled with awe.
“It’s Pentecost,
and the Spirit’s fire
 is falling again!”

Indeed it was the Holy Spirit
coming among them,
and reminding them
of the day
Christ’s church was born.
For as the fiery tongues
reached each person,
they were reminded
of their baptismal vows
and their call
 to reach out to others
as member’s of Christ’s body.
They knew
the Spirit could empower them
and direct them
as they reached out
 to follow their call.
They knew the Spirit
 could show them
the people they would serve
and the ways
they would serve them.
Exciting visions
of a vital ministry
stretched before their eyes
as they saw the way
the Spirit could transform
a burned out lamp
to a roaring flame;
a flame
shining  Christ’s love out clearly
in the midst
 of the darkest night.

They accepted the Spirit’s call
to be about their Lord’s work.
Those who were able
began to minister
to those who were in need
as the Lord commanded.
And their worshipers who were older,
and could no longer labor,
began the vital task of prayer
for all those
the congregation encountered.
In words and in deeds
the worshipers spoke to those
to whom Christ called them
in the language of love;
a language all could know
and understand.

New life abounded among them
as they gathered to worship,
for fellowship,
and to serve.
Fiery worship
 filled with the Spirit’s power
became their norm
and kept them focused
on their Lord’s call.
Not one of them knew
how long
their congregation would exist;
indeed,
not one of them even cared.
For they were about
their Lord’s work
and living each day
in the burning flame
of the Spirit’s breath.

The teenager worshiper’s
 exclamation of awe
became their byword
and standard,
and the way they were known
to all around them

“Smokin’,”
visitors shouted in wonder
at the joy of their worship!

“Smokin’,”
the community cried in wonder
at they way
they showed forth Christ’s love.

Smokin’?”

“No,
not us,”
the worshipers replied.
“For we work and worship
 in the love of Jesus Christ
and through the power
 of the flame and wind
of the Holy Spirit.

And to God alone be glory.”

(Comments to Frank at PresbyCat@CS.COM.)
Interim Pastor, Central Presbyterian of New Lenox, IL