Episode Transcript
[00:00:01] Speaker A: Lets pray.
Holy Spirit, come again. As long ago you inspired, astonished and confused. The people come to us now to fill our ears with the sound of your breath. Fill our eyes with the brilliance of your presence in each other. Fill our hearts with your good word.
Amen.
The scripture reading today comes to us from the Book of Acts, chapter 2, verses 1 through 8 and verses 12 to 13.
Listen for God's words to us.
When the day of Pentecost had come, they 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 living under heaven, living in Jerusalem. At this sound, the crowd gathered and was bewildered because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each.
Amazed and astonished, they asked, are not all these who are speaking Galileans?
And how is it that we hear each of us in our own native language? All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, what does this mean? But others sneered and said, they are filled with new wine.
This is the word of the Lord.
[00:01:31] Speaker B: Thanks be to God.
Don't you love the visuals of Pentecost?
Divided tongues as of fire.
Lola's the one who plans the visuals that you'll see on the backdrops of our slides. And I love the fire imagery today. It's why I pull out the fancy clergy garb and wear red, why we've got it hanging over the cross. Divided tongues as of fire. You can see why. That visual has long inspired artists and they've tried to depict it in various ways. That scene, the scene we read about in Acts Chapter two, when disciples filled with the Holy Spirit have those divided tongues resting on their heads and then they speak in other languages. And Jews from all over the world gather at Jerusalem for Pentecost. Here are these Galileans speaking about God's deeds of power in their native languages.
Here's how the Chinese artist, He Qui imagined that moment. And you can see how the tongues of fire over the heads of the disciples look a lot like a dove, reminding us of how the Holy Spirit descended like a dove at Jesus baptism, according to Luke.
Here's how the Thai artist saw Chino Wong imagined the scene. Not only is there a single flame over the head of each disciple, but you'll notice there's also this grand fire in the middle, as if it's lighting up the whole room, the whole space where all the disciples were gathered.
Here's how Benjamin, an Indonesian artist, imagined that moment, with flames like hands reaching up to heaven and a dove at the top descending from heaven.
The visuals of Pentecost have long grabbed my imagination, and I bet they have yours as well. But did you notice, did you notice in today's passage that before that sight, before the tongues of fire, there was a sound as the disciples are gathered together in one place, the first alert of the Holy Spirit's coming, the first mark that the heavens had indeed opened and. And the Holy Spirit had come was a sound, not a sight, not a smell. Nor was it even something that we can tell from the passage. You could touch or feel.
It was a sound like the rush of a violent wind.
Now, I don't know about you, but I so often look for signs of God's work in the world with my eyes, and I can just gloss right over sounds. I can jump to the description of the visual sign spectacle of tongues of fire resting on each of these gathered disciples and people from all over the known world, hearing them speak in their own native tongue. And I can miss that phrase from heaven, there came a sound.
Last month, I got to attend the Outlaw Festival at the Hollywood Bowl. And for the first two acts that performed that night, I saw a spectacle. The bluegrass singer and mandolinist, who I'd long wanted to see perform live, Sierra Hull, was the opening act. I was seated in just about the middle of the audience, right smack dab in the middle. And even from that far back, I could still see all of the performers on stage as they played. But if you've been to the Hollywood bowl, you know, there's also those huge screens, and those allow you to see the fingers as this mandolinus Sierra hall, was playing, and close in on her face so you could see her expression as she sang.
And what I'll remember most from that performance were those visuals of her fingers just flying over the mandolin.
The next act was Billy Strings, who I wasn't aware of before and I am now.
He and his bluegrass band took the stage while it was still light, but it was like we were witnessing a fire eruption on stage. They were amazing. And when they got to the part of each song where they trade soloists, first the violinist, then the mandolinist, then the banjo player, the camera would hone in on each instrumentalist in terms, until it finally landed on Billy Strings himself. And with his tattooed arms and amazing hands and fingers, he Would make that instrument sing.
It was like he and that band was on fire. And when he left the stage, the visuals I most remember were his arms playing and making such great music. Well, then we awaited the third act, the legendary headliner. Along with Willie Nelson, we waited for Bob Dylan.
The lights began to grow dark and I got excited. I'd only see Dylan perform once before, and it was back in the 1980s. And he was touring behind probably his worst album, which was down in the Groove. But even with that really weak album behind him, still he was a galvanizing presence on stage with a harmonica and guitar. Especially when he did a solo acoustic set. I'll never forget, the spotlight honed in on him. And seeing this legendary performer right before my eyes.
Well, as I awaited Bob Dylan to take the stage, I began to hear music coming through the speakers.
And it sounded a lot like, well, Bob Dylan. And I thought, that's strange. It sounds sort of like a live track of Bob Dylan is playing. And yet Bob Dylan's about to take the stage. That's unusual.
And then as I listened more, I thought, maybe that is Bob Dylan. But I looked out on the stage and it was completely dark. Other than a few lights that looked like they were there for the crew. I looked up at the screens. They too were completely dark. I wondered what was going on.
It was not until the third song that I realized, wait, Bob Dylan is actually playing right now?
What I learned later is that Dylan in his later years has made a few decisions when he takes the stage. One is no cameras focused in on him, especially no close ups. He doesn't allow those screens to show him. And he doesn't want any spotlights or bright lights and near him.
So I'm there watching this show, but there's really nothing to see.
So by the third song, as I'm realizing, okay, I'm here at a Bob Dylan concert. I want to try to relate to this in some fashion. And others around me were equally confused. I wasn't the only one trying to figure out what was happening. I decided to close my eyes and just listen.
And as I did that and began to take in this legendary performer as they were singing and playing. What I learned later was the piano. He was the piano player. I wouldn't have known it from where I stood. But as I began to just listen, I realized how rare it is that I do that.
That I close my eyes and just pay attention to what's happening around me through my ears.
It was one of those occasions where I was reminded of the power of sound and how rarely I hone in on that sense in particular.
And as a result of that, it seems like I can often miss God speaking to me. God working in the world as it comes through sound.
I realized how often I look for God's call, God's presence, God's claim in sight and not in sound. I look for it in the beauty of creation, don't you?
I look for it in other people. Each person out there, I see, wow, someone created in the image of God. It's a great sight.
I look for it in visual symbols like the cross or the baptismal font or the Bible or this table. All symbols of what our faith is about.
I look for it in those symbols that remind me of Christ's death and resurrection and how we united with him by faith, die to sin, and rise to all in that is good. But looking at all these visuals focused on these visuals, I can sometimes forget to attend to God's call with my ears.
Well, according to today's passage from Acts chapter two, when the Holy Spirit descends on the followers of Christ, God comes to us not just in sight, but in sound, from heaven. There came a sound, a sound of a violent, rushing wind.
Well, that sound, of course, recalls for us other times, God's coming was heralded by sounds. After the ancient Hebrew people had been wandering in the wilderness and finally drew near to Mount Sinai, we read in Exodus that the coming of God at the mountain was heralded by sound. Thunder rang out. And then there was the sound of a trumpet so loud it shook people throughout the camp. It was like God was saying, pay attention, pay attention. I'm about to speak. So don't just open your eyes, open your ears.
Attend to what I'm going to say. Open your ears. And then we get in that story from Exodus, the commandments of God, the statutes and ordinances that would be for the ancient Hebrew, Hebrew people, like a lamp to their feet and a light to their path.
Centuries later, you'll recall from the book of First Kings of how another time there was a gathering at Mount Horeb. This was Elijah who went to that Mount Horeb or Mount Sinai to attend to God. Elijah was told to stand on the mountain and await the arrival of of the Lord. And there was a great wind, you might remember, so strong it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces.
But we read, God was not in the wind.
Instead, it was like that wind was meant to get Elijah's attention and alert him. Listen.
Then we read of how another sound came Sometimes that sound is translated a still, small voice. In other translations, it. It is the sound of sheer silence.
And when Elijah hears that sound, you'll remember how he covered his head. A sign that somehow the presence of God had drawn near that mark for him. That God had arrived, came in sound. And that big sound of wind helped him attend to the sound that was coming. The sound of sheer silence or a still, small voice. And then God had a particular call to him to. To go and anoint some new kings of Aram and of Israel. I wonder if Elijah might have missed that instruction had he not had that sound to alert him. Listen for God's coming in sound.
In the beginning of John's Gospel, we read of how the heavens were opened. And from heaven came the Logos, or the Word of God. And that Word became flesh and dwelt on among us as people then heard our Savior's teaching. As they heard the stories of the miraculous signs and how Christ spoke of the invisible spirit of God. And as they heard and saw him challenging evil, as they heard of his death on a cross and then of his resurrection, they heard the very word of God to them.
They heard of a love so great that the very God of the heavens sent God's beloved son down from heaven to proclaim our beloved in God's eyes.
They heard in the living word that is Christ, a call to love God, to love one another, to love their neighbor, to love even their enemies in the life and teaching the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We read that from heaven, from heaven there came a sound.
And that sound was the word of God, who we received by faith and call our Lord and Savior.
In the passage that Finn read today in Acts chapter two, once again the heavens opened. From heaven there came a sound.
Only this time it was not the Logos, the Word of God, who descends in sound. It's the Holy Spirit. And it proclaims the great love of God to people of every tribe and. And tongue, every language and culture, every place and people group, every gender identity or sexual orientation to people spread throughout the world.
God's presence and call and love comes down at Pentecost as we read from heaven. From heaven there came a sound.
A sound like the rush of a violent wind.
Well, in response to that sound, Christian disciples then go out in the world to proclaim with their mouths that sound. The wondrous deeds of God. God's work in their lives and in the world. That, friends, is church. Listening to God, speaking of God.
That's church. Once the Spirit descends from heaven, There came a sound.
It was the sound of God drawing near like a violent rushing wind. It was the sound of God speaking to a people. And then it was the sound of that people speaking of God to the world from heaven. There came a sound. It's a sound we hear, and then it's a sound we get to speak.
Well, today we celebrate that four of our high school students have completed our confirmation process. They're now full fledged members of the Church of Jesus Christ.
That process involved work that I pray not only they, but all of us engage in throughout our lives. The work of listening to God and daring, daring to speak, to write what we believe.
As each one of them did, the process culminated in the students writing a statement of faith. And words from those statements have been woven into this worship service. Writing a statement of faith is a hard thing to do. Some of you are pastors out there and, you know, as Presbyterian pastors, a part of the ordination process involves not only writing a statement, but reading it before a gathered group of ruling and teaching elders and then defending it so people can challenge or ask questions about some of what you say. It requires a kind of focused listening to what God has said in Scripture, to what God has said through the church and the historic creeds. And it calls for that scary move of actually putting down or giving utterance with our mouths to what we believe.
But in that process, listening and speaking, it's like we're attending to a reality, to a force, to a spirit at work in our time and in all time, but a spirit or force that we can miss if we don't attend to it. I applaud these students for taking the time and energy to attend, not just with their eyes, but with their ears.
And I celebrate what they heard.
Jonathan writes in his statement about reading the Gospel of Luke and finding in the story of Jesus temptation in the wilderness, inspiration. As he deals with his problems and struggles, he writes of God's work in the Reformation and how that historic movement in the church led to the development of specific Presbyterian congregations that he's been a part of, including this one.
Gideon writes of the many questions he has about God and about prayer. So many that I resonate with. And he writes of being able to bring those questions to God in church and listening with others for what God might have to say through scripture and the reflections of one another.
He writes of connecting to God through Jesus and how in listening to the parables of Jesus, he learns how to live as a Jesus follower. And he writes that one thing he loves about the Presbyterian denial denomination is its commitment to justice.
Finn notes in their statement how the Bible is how God speaks to a people, as well as being a historic document written by humans. Among the four students, Finn wrote the most about the Holy Spirit. Finn wrote that spirit is known in opportunities and miracles and implausible coincidences. We notice by faith the Holy Spirit is how God exists in the day to day. I love that. And when Finn articulates what that spirit calls the church to then do, as our mission, they write, it is to care for the widow and the orphan and work to take apart systemic oppression.
Eliza writes of the Holy Spirit as a constant presence that guides us to do what's right in the eyes of the Lord, like lifting up the most marginalized people in our society and as she puts it, caring for the widow, the orphan and the immigrant in a time and place when many today will not dare or bother to listen to God or speak of God. I applaud our confirmands for doing so.
And in a day when ice raids are taking place in our city, outside Home Depots and restaurants, at cities schools, I'm grateful our students dare to articulate a God who champions in scripture the cause of the immigrant, the orphan and the widow.
And I was grateful to get to join them, along with Josiah and Eric and Christy, and taking a weekend down in San Diego to listen to God and to dare speak about God.
For me, at least, the weekend was a feast of sound. There was the sound of gatherings where we read scripture, prayed and considered what God might be saying to us and listened to one another. There was the sound of conversations during outings like this one to San Diego's Balboa Park.
There was the sound of snoring at night. I didn't snore. At least I didn't hear it.
But others did.
And it was a reminder that it had been a long time since I had been on a camping experience with others. You know, we stayed and classrooms, guys in one, classroom gals in the other. And the snoring was like, yes, we're back having these camping experiences.
It sounded like community as we walked along the La Jolla coast on Saturday night. It was so good to hear the crash of waves and the sound of the ocean.
I hadn't heard that sound in far too long.
A blessed reminder that with so much loss in 2025, the God who made all things, even the crashing waves, is still there, still at work, still alive, present. I remembered by the power of the Holy Spirit and whose goodness and glory you can still not only see, but hear in creation.
As we walk along the La Jolla coast on Saturday night, it was good to hear those waves. And we also got to hear the sea lions bark as they were gathered in mass, stacked on one another for comfort and warmth. They surely knew how not only to snore, but to yell at each other.
Now, sure, we could see them and we could smell them, but I remember most the sound of them, those barks, when one of them would crawl on top of another or when they'd cry out for a parent or a friend or something like that. And I thought, man, that's like the very sound of creation groaning and crying out to God for comfort and care.
And it called to my mind a God who answers that cry with a sound like that of Jesus voice when he said, lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age, and sent the Holy Spirit to prove it.
Sunday morning, before we attended worship at La Jolla Presbyterian Church, we went up to Mount Soledad. And each of us found a spot to spend some time listening for God's call, alone with a Bible, a journal and our ears.
The sound I remember hearing there was the wind, a reminder for me of a God whose presence in the Holy Spirit might be invisible to my eyes, but is with me all the same. And if I listen hard, maybe even close my eyes like I did at the Outlaw Festival, I can hear it from heaven. There came a sound.
That afternoon we went to join in the ministry of First Presbyterian Church of San Diego as it was distributes food and clothing to those in need. We got to hear scripture read and a short message shared just before the meal was served. And then I got to hear the sounds of our students and other volunteers like us greeting the guests as they arrived.
I thought of how much I had been touched personally in recent months by precisely these kinds of ministries. Distributing clothing, distributing food, helping provide medical care and other things that people need. I thought of that circle and how I had been a recipient in recent months, and now I got to participate in the giving. And with that fresh in my memory, the sounds of food and clothing distributed, of guests being welcomed who were vulnerable. I thought, you know, this sounds like something special. It sounds like the heavens had opened and from heaven there came a sound.
Let's listen, friends, for that sound and dare to speak of a God who speaks to us.
In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, Amen.
