Learning to Act Like Children (Pentecost)

Acts 2:1-21

Romans 8:14-17

To call someone a “child” is fine.  To call someone “childish” is not.  “Childish” is a negative term we use to name behavior that’s unfitting.  Like when a grown up throws a tantrum or eats brownies for dinner.  And yet, our reading today suggests a positive image of children and childhood.  If you want to open yourself to the Spirit God pours out, you will have to become child-like. 

Whether we are eight or eighty-eight, the gift of God’s Spirit makes us God’s children.  Now what does that mean?  Well, we’re not employees.  We don’t work for God’s company.  We’re not temps hired for a project, trying to keep on God’s good side by performing up to standard.  

No, we’re kids in God’s new family.  Actually, we’re kids adopted into this new family with lots of other adopted children.  And it’s a big, noisy, close and affectionate family.  The Spirit is that mysterious something that reminds you day and night that God loves you like a parent, only better.  You might not like all your new brothers and sisters, but don’t worry, the Spirit will help you with that too.

My friend Tom Dobbins was born much later than his older brother and sister.  So they were already off on their own when we were growing up.  So, when his parents planned a getaway to Branson one summer, they took me with them.  I remember how exciting it was to go on a family vacation with someone else’s family! 

We drove to Branson in a grey Ford LTD.  We did Branson things like go-carts and ice cream.  His dad loved the TV show Hee Haw.  I mention that because he was very excited about taking us to a show called the “Baldknobbers”.  I don’t remember the show, but I remember that his dad was mad that someone put Baldknobbers bumper stickers on everyone’s car during the show.  We had to wait while he removed it.

On our last night in Branson, we at at one of those cafeterias where you move your plastic tray along and gather up what you want.  Pears, cottage cheese, jello – you move through that part quickly.  The final section was dessert: mostly pieces of pie, saran wrapped and on ice.  I chose chocolate cream pie.

That night, back in the motel, I got sick.  And my friend’s mother was right beside me through the worst of it, with a cold washrag on the back of my neck, saying the soothing things a mother says to a child who’s sick.  I wasn’t her child.  And she wasn’t my mother.  And yet for that trip, I’d been adopted into that family.  And I experienced the very best care while I was sick, as if I’d always been part of that family.

Another friend of mine needed corrective surgery on his feet when we were young.  It was pretty serious ankle surgery.  And my friend was worried.  He had two sisters.  And I guess he liked me better than his sisters and so I got to go on a special trip.  His parents invited me to come with them to Kansas City for the surgery.  But they made it feel like a special vacation built just for us.  We went the day before and got to do all the things we wanted to do.  We got to pick where we ate.  And that night we stayed at this brand new, luxurious place called “The Embassy Suites.”  They had a pool, and we swam late at night. 

Now of course I was being used as a pawn to distract my friend from his surgery the next day.   But I sort of knew that.  And my friend knew that.  And it felt good to be included in their family, to be part of an experience with them, not a brother but kind of like a brother.  Not their child but treated like their child for those few days.

These were short-term, unofficial adoptions into another family.  But some of you have adopted children.  Some of you were adopted into a new family, officially or unofficially.  And that experience of being included and wanted, of being welcomed and cared for – that is what it’s like to be part of God’s new family.  And the work of the Holy Spirit, in large part, is to persuade us - over the course of a life-time - that this is the truest thing about us.

Now imagine if I had been adopted by the Bill and Melinda Gates family.  Or the Warren Buffett family.  And imagine that it wasn’t for a day or two at the Balknobbers or a night in the Embassy Suites, but that it was a full, forever kind of adoption.  And imagine that these Forbes’ richest families in the world included me, right along with their own children, in the family inheritance!  That kind of adoption would change my life.  If I were set to inherit a few billion, I’d live differently.  I’d increase our AT&T data plan.  I’d get new curbing poured at our house.  I’d trade my 2003 car in for a 2006.  It would be crazy!

According to Romans 8, this sense of “having it all” or “inheriting everything” isn’t a dream.  It’s exactly what has happened to us.  Because of Jesus’ life and death, we have been gathered into this new family, loved, blessed and healed.  And now everything is ours.  We are “heirs.”  We’re inside now, full members of the family, and we can expect to share in all the responsibilities and privileges of the family.

Today is Pentecost.  It marks the time fifty days following Jesus’ resurrection when God poured out the Spirit like tongues of fire on those early followers of Jesus.  It’s a reminder that we live in the grip of a new kind of power.  We’ve been gathered here by God’s Spirit into a new kind of life. 

Pentecost Sunday is the time to remember that we didn't get ourselves into the community of God's people.  God's Spirit gathered us here, pulled us towards it while we were doing other things.  But it's also time to remember that as a congregation we'll lose our way if we don't take risks and chase the mysteriously blowing Spirit forward into newness.  Our reading names us as those “led” by the Spirit.

Did you know that luxury sports car maker Porsche is now considered an SUV company?  That is, their bottom line revenue is positive only because several years ago they realized they weren’t trapped into making only little two-seater sports cars.  They were free to build SUV’s.  Had they not adapted to the changing car market, they wouldn’t be around.

Now we’re a congregation, part of the larger church.  We’re not a business adapting to market trends.  We aren’t free to become anything we want.  We are and always will be a community of friends gathered around Jesus Christ.  We are and always will be the ongoing embodiment of Jesus in our own time and place.  We carry, in our own hands and feet, our own faces and voices, the healing and blessing work of Jesus Christ into our families, neighborhoods, schools, and workplaces.

But what that kind of life looks like has always been changing.  For example, the sign out front says, “Join us for worship at 10:30am on Sunday Mornings”.  There’s a lot wrong with that sign.  You have to come here (not everyone is comfortable).  It’s got a label - “worship” - that doesn’t do much for most people.  And it’s an experience only offered at one time.  That seems to most people like pulling up to a drive through menu that has one item, one price, that’s it.  No choices, no options. 

But lots of people want to connect with something meaningful.  Lots of people want to learn to live with courage and playfulness.  Lots of people are tired of feeling ignored or taken for granted and want to feel like they’re loved and valued.  And we have leaders who get this.  Some of you argued for more times for eating and friendship like our First Wednesday potlucks.  And more events like Theology on Tap, where we can invite others to join us in homes and restaurants for good conversation about stuff that matters to all of us.

The statistics are clear.  Fewer and fewer people are joining churches.  And yet we just had 11 young people confirmed into the life of the church, saying this is what they want for themselves.  Our deacons just led a food drive that resulted in over 1,300 food items supplied to the Beacon. We have leaders who’ve rearranged their lives to participate in the Circles program, helping those who struggle with poverty.  We’ll gather next week to pitch in and work together, to visit folks who can’t get out, to eat and laugh together.  We have people sharing generously and sacrificially so that we can have new sidewalks and more parking, so we can renovate our gymnasium for our kids, and so we can hire the staff we need to keep moving forward. 

This is a great time to be the church.  Statistics be damned.  There are no statistics that can catch the dancing movement of God’s Spirit.  There are no statistics that can capture the joy of being adopted into a new family.  Let the church be childish.  Amen.