Richard Davenport

May 19, 2024 – The Day of Pentecost

Ezekiel 37:1-14

 

                This story from Ezekiel is one of the most well known from the prophet’s life.  A valley of bones, bones getting up and coming together.  At first it sounds like a danse macabre, with skeletons cavorting about, but no, we don’t end with bones, but with whole living bodies.  It’s one that deserves a little attention.

                When reading this story I remember back in one of my classes on preaching at the seminary.  The professor assigned each of us a memorable story from the Bible.  I was given this one.  We had to read it for the class, as much from memory as possible. There are many people, even pastors, who unfortunately read the Bible like, (dull monotone) “Prophesy to the breath; prophesy, son of man, and say to the breath, Thus says the Lord GOD: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe on these slain, that they may live.”  It's not…wrong, but it says something about what this story is doing.  Not everyone is an expert public speaker, but that isn’t the point here. If all this is is a fanciful story, then our words and deeds will naturally reflect it.

                A couple of weeks ago I finished reading a book by a man named G. K. Chesterton.  You may have heard his name even if you don’t know anything about him. He wrote something like 100 books, along with plays, essays, and numerous other things.  He died in Britain in 1936 and so was an early contemporary of C. S. Lewis.  Lewis actually followed in Chesterton’s footsteps.  Both were extremely intelligent British scholars.  Both started out and lived much of their lives as staunch atheists.  Both came upon things in the world that the world simply could not explain.  The only thing that provided an answer that fit all of the data was the Christian faith.

                Coming from the outside, both have something of a different perspective than many of us who have been Christians more or less all of our lives.  Chesterton’s book, Orthodoxy, is much like C. S. Lewis’ book, Mere Christianity.  He describes his own path to faith and how he wrestled with everything the world presented him.  From an outsider’s perspective, he says, all religions are essentially alike, and he’s not wrong.  Pretty much every religion in the world has some kind of place of worship.  Pretty much every religion has a sacred text of some sort, there are priests, there are religious holidays and festivals, and so forth.    Even things that we might think are very different, like baptism, are done by other religions.  Muslims, for instance, are required to ritually wash too.  From that point of view, it’s very reasonable to make the claim that all religions are the same.

                To understand the differences, you have to dig deeper.  It isn’t just what they do, but why they do it.  What does the religion teach?  Sure, there are things we do that are a little different than what other religions do, but the outsider doesn’t see the big difference.  To understand, they must be taught.

                The whole story of Pentecost is a bit crazy and convoluted.  Jesus is alive again.  The disciples have already seen him a couple of times.  They know he rose from the dead.  Yet, Jesus still tells them to sit around and wait for a few days? Why?  Because just like Good Friday and Easter were all part of the plan, so is Pentecost.  God knew that Jews would be flocking to Jerusalem to celebrate the holiday.  He had instituted the holiday, so of course he knew they would be there.  He created the perfect opportunity to jump start the work of spreading the Gospel. 

                Still, what reason do any of the people there have to really listen to the apostles and their preaching?  Sure, there’s the whole deal where everyone understands them speaking their own language, but that isn’t truly what Pentecost is all about. Pentecost isn’t about the miracles, neat as they may be, it’s about the message.  Itinerant preachers have been around almost forever.  Islam, Buddhism, and Mormonism all came about because one guy came up with something and ran off to tell others about it.  Outwardly it all looks the same.  That’s why it isn’t about what they do, it’s about what they say. The words are different, the teachings are different.  There is something unique and special about the message the apostles proclaim to the crowds on this day, something they’ve never heard before.  “Jesus, the Son of God, died to save you.  He rose to give you life.  All of this is your as a free gift from a loving God to his children. Don’t throw the gift away but receive it with joy.”

                When we talk about Ezekiel, we could do it in similar way to what many other religions do.  We could pick it apart for its symbolism.  We could look at Ezekiel and the dead people, we could look at the wind and the spirit.  We could draw conclusions about how our spiritual journey is one that is enriched by spiritual reflection, about how spiritual experiences can lead to enlightenment, and so forth.  We could talk about it like other religions do, that it isn’t real.  That it’s an interesting story with some points for spiritual reflection that will help you in your own journey toward perfection or enlightenment or to just becoming a better person.  That’s how most other religions treat the stories in their books. They’re for reflection and meditation. You think about them as you ponder yourself and the world around you. 

 If you see Buddhist or Hindu religious art, many times the people depicted have their eyes closed in meditation.  They’re focused inward.  They’re focused on themselves.  Christians are different.  Christians are focused outward.  If you see a Christian with his eyes closed, it isn’t because he’s sitting around pondering the universe and his own spiritual journey.  It’s because he’s actively engaged in prayer with a God that isn’t within him, waiting to be discovered, but who is distinct, who is separate.  He prays to a God who has been showering him with love since before he was born. Aside from that, his eyes are open. They are looking outward at the troubles of the world.  They are looking at all of those crushed down by guilt, those paralyzed by doubt, shame, and despair, those lost in the suffering that afflicts us all in various ways, those under attack by evil.  They are looking at these people and they know there is only one answer to all of it.  There is only the Gospel.  There is only the good news that God has sent his Son so that death will not triumph, so that there is a way to escape the darkness of this world.  Christ opened the door, not by setting an example of good living or spiritual perfection, but by literally dying and rising again.

The apostles at Pentecost, Ezekiel and valley of dry bones, Christ’s death and resurrection, all of it true, just as written.  All of the testimony and history of God working in the world to save his people.  All of it explains not just what we do, but why we do it.  But, all too often, we don’t act as if the words and the deeds connect.  If someone asks you why you helped them out, why you supported them, why you cared for them in their time of need, how do you answer?  “I’m a nice guy.  I just wanted to help.  I care about everyone and don’t like seeing people suffering.  It’s just the right thing to do.” 

All of those are good things.  All of them noble.  All of them loving and caring, and all of them are things you could pick up from just about any religion out there.  But none of them have the truth.  None of them tell you that, no matter how noble, caring, or compassionate you may be, you’ll never avoid death, because you’ll never be as noble, caring, or compassionate as you should be.  You’ll never have anything to look forward to beyond death if you don’t have the life of Christ within you, making you into the person you were created to be. 

God calls his people to account for lack of action many times.  We are called to love our neighbors and so we need to be active in doing so.  But that only gets them so far.  If they never hear why it is we do what we do, then at best we’ve given them a momentary reprieve from the evils of the world.

The apostles are sent out on Pentecost.  They are sent to heal, to cast out demons, and care for people, but above and beyond all of that, they are called to proclaim the good news.  The Spirit doesn’t empower them to go around and just shower people with love.  He empowers them to spread the good news. Even the miracles they do are there to reinforce the message.  God has power over disease and suffering.  He has power over life and death.  He has power over sin.  The miracles are proof of that.  Without the message of Christ crucified and raised, the rest of it become meaningless. Many people go out into terrible places to help people, aid workers and humanitarian efforts regularly operate in war torn countries our where disaster has struck.  They do good work and are greatly appreciated by those who are helped. 

This is not why the apostles went out into the world.  This is not why they suffered, bled, and were martyred for their faith.  They went because they knew Christ had been raised from the dead, and because he lived, they would live too.  The apostles had a great gift to share, the greatest gift that could be given, and they wanted nothing more than to see that as many people got that gift as possible.

Why are you here today?  Are you here because your parents went here and you’ve stuck around?  Are you here because someone invited you to be here? Are you here because you appreciate some of the things the church has done for others?  If any of those are true, that’s well and good, but none of them will keep you here.  Eventually you’ll drift away when you realize you can probably find all of that in other places too. 

The only real reason to be here, is because here is where you come into the presence of the one who triumphed over death, the one who died to redeem you from your debt of sin, the one who establishes his perfect kingdom and will make you perfect so that you can be a part of it.  Here is where we preach Christ crucified and raised.  Here is where you find the Gospel.  Here is where Christ has come to you, where you have heard the good news and sought his presence.  Here is where you have received his life and been assured of your place in his kingdom.  Here is where you learned that, because he lives, you will live also. 

Everything we do goes back to this.  Every act of love, every noble deed, every compassionate action, all of it is done to connect people with the work of Christ who died and rose again to save us.  This is what makes us different.  It is the good news of forgiveness and salvation that sets us apart.  It is Christ’s presence, in the proclamation of his Word and the celebration of the sacraments that makes us who we are, the church, God’s people, the people who love because he first loved us.