Sunday Musings

All means ALL

Today Christians celebrate Pentecost, fifty days (seven Sundays) after Easter. The story of the first Pentecost is found in Acts 2 with the coming of the Spirit upon the world in a new, powerful way.

It is one of my favorite liturgical holidays — for reasons you’ll discover below. The texts are the traditional readings for the day.

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Please freely share this musing with your friends!

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Acts 2:1-6, 17-18

When the day of Pentecost had come, the disciples were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. . .

But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, "Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o'clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

In the last days it will be, God declares,

that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,

and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.

Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
and they shall prophesy. . .

Romans 8:14-16

All who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, "Abba! Father!" it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God.

This week, I got in a bit of trouble for a tweet:

ALL PEOPLE ARE GOD’S PEOPLE

The tweet was occasioned by a resolution facing the Episcopal Church at its upcoming national meeting. At issue is the question of open communion (or open table), whether the meal of sharing bread and wine is for only baptized Christians or for anyone wishing to participate. A group of theologians wrote a letter on the question that included this line: “Holy Eucharist is therefore not intended for ‘all people’ without exception, but is rather for ‘God’s people.’”

And that’s when I hastily — and passionately — posted the tweet:

All people ARE God’s people. Start your theology there. Start every theology there for God’s sake. For the sake of humanity. For the sake of the planet.

Churches make rules about rituals and practices — what actions are exclusive within communities of initiation and participation. I get it. That’s just what religious institutions do. While I object to the particular boundaries this letter puts around communion, that wasn’t what most deeply worried me.

What upset me was the distinction between “all people” and “God’s people.” How easily it was made, how assumed it was. Them and us. The great unwashed of humanity versus the special people of our inner circle. The people who aren’t invited and those of us who are. Outsiders and insiders. The unsaved, the saved.

The kind of distinction that has been the source of Christianity’s worst moments, most violent episodes — drawing a line between “all people” and “God’s people.”

Pentecost is sometimes called the “birthday of the church.” A great wind howls from the skies, flames blaze above the heads of Jesus’s followers, and a huge crowd hears the Word of God in their own languages.

But it is the birth of something much bigger — the birth of a new humanity, a new creation. “In the last days,” God declares, “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh.”

All flesh. Not just some people. Literally, in Greek, “the whole of human nature” or “every physical body.” Pentecost is a story of the world’s baptism in holy fire. In it, you hear echoes of a more ancient tale — God appearing to Moses in a burning bush on holy ground:

Now an angel of the Lord appeared to Moses in a blazing fire –
 a fire that devours fire;
a fire that burns in things dry and moist;
a fire that glows amid snow and ice;
a fire that is like a crouching lion;
a fire that reveals itself in many forms;
a fire that is, and never expires;
a fire that shines and roars; a fire that blazes and sparkles;
a fire that flies in a storm wind;
a fire that burns without wood;
a fire that renews itself every day;
a fire that is not fanned by fire;
a fire that billows like palm branches;
a fire whose sparks are flashes of lightning;
a fire black as a raven;
a fire, curled, like the colours of the rainbows!
("Celestial fire" by Eleazar Ben Kaller)

At Pentecost, the wind drives fire on the crowd, across the world, and through the cosmos. God’s breath remakes the universe, restores the oneness of all creation, and births a new humanity. All ground is scorched with holiness, all bodies soaked with the Spirit. All. All. All.

All people are God’s people. All people. The Spirit didn’t discriminate. The Spirit didn’t draw distinctions. Pentecost doesn’t birth a church. It isn’t the birth of the Church. Pentecost is the extension of the holiest of all moments — the naming of the One who sets the cosmos ablaze — in conversation with us, on this ground.

With flames still licking their brows, someone in that cacophonous gathering might have cried out words that became their baptismal creed: “For you are all children of God in the Spirit! There is no Jew or Greek; there is no slave or free; there is no male and female. For you are all one in the Spirit!” Some formed a new community devoted to solidarity and sharing where they held all things in common, gave to all who had need, spent hours in the temple, and broke bread with gladness and generosity. A new humanity. They wouldn’t be called “Christians” for many years to come. They were simply followers. People of the Way. Imitating a crucified Jewish rabbi named Jesus whom they experienced as fully alive.

For many years, I lived in California. I understand fire. I’ve been evacuated because of fire. It is frightening, overwhelming, and it destroys. On that day so long ago, the wind blew, a fire came — and it consumed division, bigotry, selfishness, injustice, and ingratitude.

But it also created. And that’s Pentecost: the fire of creation. New creation.

In Romans, Paul affirms that all who are led by this vision — by the Spirit of God — are children of God. All.

All people ARE God’s people. Start your theology there. Start every theology there for God’s sake. For the sake of humanity. For the sake of the planet.

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INSPIRATION

I believe . . . in the possibility of meaningful life for all humankind.
— Dorothee Soelle

I want to embody and enact — with you, if you’re willing — the cosmic love that breathes in our breath, that animates our own consciousness, that fires the stars. I imagine a new kind of Christianity — a new kind of humanity — that instills and strengthens this nested integration of holy, transcendent desires for the beloved world and all it contains.
— Brian McLaren

May the Gifts of the Holy Spirit
bring fire to the earth
so that the presence of God
may be seen
in a new light,
in new places,
in new ways.

May our own hearts
burst into flame
so that no obstacle,
no matter how great,
ever obstructs the message
of the God within each of us.

May we come to trust
the Word of God in our heart,
to speak it with courage,
to follow it faithfully
and to fan it to flame in others.

May the Jesus
who filled women
with his Holy Spirit
fill the world and the church
with new respect
for women’s power and presence.

Give me, Great God,
a sense of the Breath of Spirit
within me as I . . .

(State the intention
in your own life at this time
for which you are praying.)

Amen.
— Sister Joan Chittister

Effortlessly,
Love flows from God into humanity,
Like a bird
Who rivers the air
Without moving her wings.
Thus we move in God’s world,
One in body and soul,
Though outwardly separate in form.
As the Source strikes the note,
Humanity sings–
The Holy Spirit is our harpist,
And all strings
Which are touched in Love
Must sound.
— Mechtild of Magdeburg 1207-1297
trans. Jane Hirshfield

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COTTAGE NEWS

SAVE THE DATE — Thursday, June 23 at 4PM eastern/1PM pacific
Bill McKibben joins the Cottage monthly Zoom gathering to talk about his wonderful new book, The Flag, the Cross, and the Station Wagon — and we can probably get him to share about his new venture, Third Act.

This live event is for paid subscribers only. Links will be sent out “day of” about three hours in advance of the event (I’ll remind you between now and then!).

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ALSO UPCOMING for paid subscribers: The next Ruining Dinner with me and Tripp Fuller talking about Southern Baptists, guns, and the January 6 hearings will be announced SOON! Stay tuned!

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