An Incredible Gift of Hearing (MPLS)

Acts 2:1-21

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 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. 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? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.’ All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, ‘What does this mean?’ But others sneered and said, ‘They are filled with new wine.’

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. And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist. The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day. Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

How good is your hearing? Four years ago, mine was getting steadily worse. Earlier in life I’d spent far too much time operating power tools with no ear protection whatsoever. Now, as people were coming out of church, I couldn’t tell if they were saying Bill, Phil or Will. So, I got hearing aids.  

How good is your hearing? Beyond basic auditory capacities, I wonder how many problems show up in our world — employer-employee, parents-children, Democrats-Republicans, black-white — because we have trouble hearing each other?

I remember back to when my son Erik was 13 years old. We went for a bike ride one evening. We were having a good time pedaling around the neighborhood in South Minneapolis. And then we started a conversation that didn’t go well at all. Erik was in early adolescence, forming some definite opinions. As the bike ride continued, the conversation got more difficult. As a parent, I felt like Erik was challenging me, and I didn’t like it! At one point I said rather strongly, “Erik, remember, I am the parent. You are the child. Do you know what that means?” Erik stopped pedaling for a moment, shrugged nonchalantly, and responded with a bit of an attitude: “Dad, you bore me.”  

Let’s just say, if Erik was trying to push my buttons, it worked. I turned my bike around faster than ice cream melts in the hot summer sun. We were going home and we were going to talk about this… now!

We found a spot, of all places, in the family room. “Erik, why did you say that to me? It was disrespectful!”  Silence. “Do you have anything else to say?”  More silence. Finally, with a mixture of hurt and bewilderment in his voice, Erik responded, “Dad, you asked me what it means that you are the parent. So I answered, “You… bore me. You… gave birth to me.” All due respect to Erik’s mother, but right then I felt about two feet tall. I’d completely misheard what my son was saying. And I’d ruined a perfectly good bike ride in the process. All because of my poor hearing.

Anything like that ever happen to you? Probably so. Good hearing can be hard to come by. Turn on a TV talk show and you’ll probably find people angrily shouting at each other. Watch a debate in Congress and you’re likely to see plenty of legislators posturing for the camera but very few actually listening to each other. Sit down to a rare family dinner and sometimes, instead of catching up on the day’s events, you end up in a conversation that quickly gets complicated. 

So, what do you do? Is there a remedy for people with hearing problems? I think so, and it goes way beyond hearing aids and therapy sessions. It’s called Pentecost. Pentecost is God’s incredible gift to help us hear.  

The first-century setting is 50 days after Passover. Jews from all over the world are in Jerusalem for the festival of Pentecost. It’s one of the big three — Passover, Tabernacles and Pentecost. At Pentecost, they’re celebrating the giving of the law on Mt. Sinai. Picture it: the whole Jewish world gathered in one place; they’re speaking Hebrew but using every accent and dialect under the sun; it’s babbling confusion; people are barely able to hear and understand each other.  

With all this going on, Jesus’ closest followers — uneducated, barely-ready-for-prime-time Galileans — are huddled in the upper room. Their lives are on hold. When Jesus ascended into heaven, he told them to wait for “power from on high.” What exactly that means, they’re not sure. So they go to the upper room, lock the doors, and wait.

But listen! A gentle breeze begins to stir. Then it’s blowing harder. Pretty soon it’s a gust. Suddenly there’s the rush of a violent wind, a swelling of voices, a shaking of the foundations. The Spirit of God descends and turns their world upside down. In the blink of an eye, the doors of the upper room burst open. And the frightened followers of Jesus are pushed out onto the street. It’s a little like Open Streets, I imagine, only now the disciples are displaying a courage they clearly did not have before. 

What’s going on? The disciples are raising a holy ruckus! They’re speaking in all sorts of languages. That’s incredible enough for a bunch of uneducated Galileans, but even more incredible is that the people of God from all over the world are able to hear and understand… in their own native tongue. They hear Peter, in his Pentecost sermon, say, “I will pour out my Spirit upon all people.” They hear him say: “Your sons and your daughters shall see visions and dream dreams.” They hear: “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” And somehow, miraculously, they’re able to take to heart what Peter is telling them — that the one they call “Lord” is none other than Jesus of Nazareth, the one who was crucified and raised from the dead.  

Nadia Bolz-Weber writes: “I need a God who is bigger and more nimble and mysterious than what I can understand or control. Otherwise, it can feel like I’m worshiping nothing more than my own ability to understand the divine.” I don’t know if Nadia was picturing Pentecost when she wrote this, but she could have been.  

On the day of Pentecost, God’s sends the Holy Spirit — nimble, mysterious, beyond our control — to make our God bigger and help God’s people hear. And in that hearing, a church is born. Hearts are changed. Doors get opened. And the church is given a brand new mission: to share the good news of Jesus’ love with a world that’s often hanging on by a thread and is desperately needing it.

Now, be sure to notice what doesn’t happen on Pentecost.  The Spirit doesn’t come to solve all our problems.  The Spirit doesn’t tell us who were supposed to welcome inside our doors; what kind of worship we’re supposed to use; whether we should be Lutherans or Catholics or Presbyterians. Instead, the Spirit creates a far larger set of problems and suddenly there’s no turning back. 

You see, the Spirit has a way of pushing shy, huddled believers out into the world. And eventually, they’re not sharing Jesus’ love not just with the Jewish world but with the Gentile world too. That’s where the real action is! The Spirit prompts people like us to look around at our neighborhoods and ask: As an Easter people, what makes us come alive? Why not find out what that is and do it?  The answer to this question gives us a mission that can turn the world upside down.  

I met with the Leadership Development Team on Thursday night. It was my first time with these well-experienced leaders. We were talking about Bethlehem’s Transition Team which officially begins its work today. Much of that work will involve gathering in groups of 10-15 members of the congregation, to ask questions about our hopes and dreams, and then to pay careful attention to the responses. Someone on the Leadership Development Team raised a challenge: make sure you also gather with the neighbors around us who are not part of Bethlehem. Ask what they think of us! Ask how we might better connect with them!

Again, our mission starts with hearing… and responding to the “problems” the Spirit creates for us. This can be incredibly hard work! In a world of Covid, with endless Zoom meetings, it hasn’t been easy to hear each other. And beyond that, in a world of information silos in which we often close ourselves off from those who don’t think and vote and look like us, our hearing has gotten increasingly worse.  

Still, the problems around us haven’t gone away. There are plenty of folks hanging on by a thread. Lonely people need connecting. Hurting people need someone to care. Hungry people need something to eat. Families need ties that bind. Neighbors need to act like neighbors. And dare I say, any of these connections will go better if we work to build a bridge instead of a wall; and if we ask the Spirit to help us hear better.

Once we stop to listen, I think, God has any number of people to send our way. Ministries like Mental Health Connect and Starfish and Community Emergency Services help us do that. Efforts like Confirmation Mentoring and Grief Ministry and Home Communion Ministry help us do that. And often the efforts called for are less formal: driving a neighbor to the doctor, helping a friend with homework, venturing out of our narrow little worlds and getting to know someone who doesn’t think and vote and look like we do. When we do these things and more, we end up serving a God who is bigger and more nimble and mysterious than we can ever understand or control. And as an Easter people, that makes us come alive!

Isn’t that the way the Spirit often works? I think so. But keep in mind: the missional opportunities in front of us are almost always an interruption. They’re often not convenient. We’re never quite sure what we’re getting into. Still, if we’re listening, the nudge of the Spirit will go something like this: “I could use somebody like you. Want to help? Remember, I didn’t come to solve all your problems, but instead to create some new ones.”  

As we follow the lead of the Spirit, we do the work of the church. There’s no one right way to share the love of Jesus. Being the church is often messy. Sometimes we’ll have disagreements and hurt feelings and more questions than answers. Sometimes, when our plate is full, we’ll have to say no.  Sometimes we might even feel like we’ve failed. Still, if the cross teaches us anything, it teaches us that success does not always look like success. In the end, the question really isn’t whether we’ve been successful, but whether we’ve at least tried to be faithful.

Friends, how good is your hearing? We live in a world in which good hearing is in short supply. Sometimes we’re the ones whose hearing is challenged. So, the Spirit comes at Pentecost to help us hear better. The Spirit comes to unlock our doors, give us hearts full of courage, and send us out into the world, because that’s where the real action is. The Spirit comes to help us see visions and dream dreams. “I could use somebody like you,” invites the Spirit, “Want to help?”  

Friends, how you answer that question can make all the difference in the world. Thanks be to God.