Month: May 2024

A Time to Wait

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “A Time to Wait” Acts 1:1-11

for all the Moms out there

Waiting isn’t easy. Just ask any Mom. She waited through nine months of pregnancy. The first trimester brought big changes. Breasts tender. Taste and smell heightened. Early morning nausea. Hormone-induced mood swings, headaches, and even acne. Don’t forget the digestive challenges – bloating, gas, and constipation.

The second trimester was better. But, oh, the appetite! Eating for two or sending the spouse out for late-night ice cream and pickles. The leg cramps, stuffy nose, and heartburn kicked in. An ever-growing abdomen turned an innie bellybutton into an outie. Big ligaments in hips, groin, and abdomen stretched uncomfortably to accommodate the growing womb. The stretch marks appeared, no matter how much cocoa butter was applied.

The third trimester was the homestretch. The baby’s kicks felt like an internal tap dance. Sleep was hard to come by. Every restroom was a welcome pitstop. The wall of exhaustion followed even simple efforts, like walking the dog or shopping for groceries. Braxton Hicks contractions launched a torrent of worry—is this it? We won’t even go into the final week or the actual delivery. Suffice it to say that Moms can affirm the words of the late rocker Tom Petty, “The waiting is the hardest part.”

In today’s reading from the Acts of the Apostles, Jesus told his followers to wait in Jerusalem for the promise of the Father. Jesus didn’t even give his friends a timeline. He just told them to stay put and wait for God to take action.

I’m sure that the disciples didn’t like the prospect of waiting any more than a pregnant woman does. In the forty days since the resurrection, Jesus had been with his friends, interpreting the scriptures, and helping them to see his suffering and death as part of God’s ultimate plan for salvation.  Jesus’ friends had gotten accustomed to having the risen Lord around. Perhaps they even hoped he would stay forever. That’s why they asked, “Is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” They hoped that Jesus would use his holy power to rout the Romans and restore David’s Kingdom. Jesus put a damper on their hopes and ambition.  The only power the apostles would get was the holy power that the Spirit would bring. Until the Spirit’s arrival, they needed to stay put and wait – without him.

According to our reading, as Jesus ascended to the Father, the disciples stood around looking up. The Bible scholars like to say that the exaltation of Jesus’ ascension vindicates the humiliation of the crucifixion. But for the disciples, I suspect that watching their friend disappear felt just as frightening and uncomfortable as it was exhilarating and awe-inspiring. Returning to the upper room and waiting for an unspecified period of time for the next big thing may have made the disciples feel as restless and anxious as a Mom in her thirty-ninth week of pregnancy.

Of course, we don’t like waiting any more than our pregnant Moms or the post-Ascension disciples did. To be human is to wait. There’s the incidental waiting of every day: for the microwave to finish cooking the popcorn, for the cashier to ring us through at the Grand Union, for the last night of frost so that we can plant the garden. And there is tougher waiting: for responses to our college applications, for our savings to reach that perfect point for retirement, for the doctor to call with test results. Then there’s existential waiting: We wait for the nations to beat their swords into plowshares; We wait for the world to wake up to the growing climate crisis; we wait (like the disciples) for the coming Kingdom, when we shall at last live into God’s perfect plan for creation. To live is to wait, even though we don’t like it very much, even though it can make us impatient and frustrated, annoyed and angry.

We don’t like to hear that waiting is part of God’s plan. Scripture is filled with stories of folks forced to wait, not very patiently. Abram and Sarai were a couple of childless Arameans when God told them to head to Israel so that God could make a great nation of them. God didn’t tell them that they would both be old as dirt and good as dead by the time baby Isaac arrived. When God led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, the people had visions of soon settling in a land of milk and honey. No one told them it would take forty years to get there. David, who would become Israel’s greatest king, may have been anointed for leadership as a shepherd boy, but he would be a grizzled veteran of many battles before he would wear the crown. The Hebrew people had to wait through half a century of exile in Babylon. That’s why Isaiah had to remind them, “Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall rise up on wings like eagles; they shall run and not grow weary; they shall walk and not grow faint.”

If waiting is part of God’s plan, then it stands to reason that it must have a purpose. Maybe Abram and Sarai needed to be that old before they trusted God to provide. The Israelites needed forty years in the wilderness to learn those ten commandments and leave the ways of Egypt behind. David needed all those years of struggle and persecution to unite the tribes of Israel into a mighty nation. The exiles needed a long time-out from the Promised Land to understand the generosity of God and the goodness of a life lived in righteousness.

So, when the disciples were told to wait without Jesus for what God would do next, the most discerning among them may have thought, “Aha! There’s a reason for this.” If we were to continue to read in the Acts of the Apostles, we’d learn that the disciples followed Jesus’ instruction to return to Jerusalem. They headed to the upper room where they were staying. There they did a lot of praying, along with the women. They realized that, without Judas, they weren’t complete. They needed a twelfth disciple. After much debate and the casting of lots, they chose Mathias.

We can trust that there were other things that happened in those ten days of waiting. There were shared meals and the goodness of community. There was the telling of memories and the joy that came with remembering all that Jesus had said and done. They realized that without God’s will and work, they would never fill those big sandals, but they trusted that somehow God could be at work to make them more. By day ten, they had stopped being disciples and they had become something new. Something poised on the edge of action. The waiting was hard, but it was important.

On this Mother’s Day, the Moms among us can testify to both the challenges of those nine months of pregnancy and the importance of the waiting time. Yes, their bodies needed to change to prepare for the monumental task of giving birth. Yet those nine months were also filled with dreaming and planning. There was news to share, first with that inner circle of family and confidantes and then with others. There was work to do: a nursery to prepare, clothes to buy, little sweaters to knit, the huge supply of diapers to squirrel away. There were childbirth classes, lessons learned from their own mothers, and all the doctor’s visits. There was the deepening bond of marriage as the two who had been made one would soon become a family. There were prayers, many, many prayers. Somewhere along the way, those women stopped being whom they had always been. They changed; they transformed into something more. They became Moms. The waiting was hard, but it was important.

We don’t like waiting any more than our pregnant Moms or the post-Ascension disciples did, but I think the convergence of Mother’s Day and Ascension Sunday can help us to see our waiting times in a new light. As we do, we just may feel a little less impatient and frustrated, annoyed and angry. Yes, the waiting is the hardest part; yet, maybe we need to wait. Maybe we aren’t ready yet. There may be a lesson we have still to learn, a self-understanding that is yet to develop, a worldview that we cannot see, a God-view that is yet to be disclosed. One day, we’ll get it. We’ll trust more and grumble less, knowing that God is faithful. We’ll be transformed, even as we wait. We’ll grow—slowly, achingly, beautifully—into the people God created us to be. May it be so.

Resources

Nicole Harris. “Your Pregnancy Symptoms Week by Week” in Parents, October 23, 2022. Accessed online at Your Pregnancy Symptoms Week by Week (parents.com)

Kristi Walker. “What Does It Mean to Wait on the Lord?” in Christianity.com, June 24, 2022. Accessed online at What Does it Mean to Wait on the Lord? (christianity.com)

Frank L. Crouch. “Commentary on Acts 1:1-11” in Preaching This Week, May 5, 2016. Accessed online at Commentary on Acts 1:1-11 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

F. Scott Spencer. “Commentary on Acts 1:1-11” in Preaching This Week, May 9, 2024. Accessed online at Commentary on Acts 1:1-11 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

William Barclay. Acts 1:1-11 in The Acts of the Apostles (The New Daily Bible Study). Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

Acts 1:1-11

1In the first book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus did and taught from the beginning 2until the day when he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles whom he had chosen. 3After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God. 4While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father. “This,” he said, “is what you have heard from me; 5for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.”

6So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” 7He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” 9When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. 10While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. 11They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Pexels.com

A Wider Welcome

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “A Wider Welcome” Acts 10:44-48

Judy Woodruff is a seasoned journalist with five decades of experience, reporting for NBC, CNN, and PBS. In the early days of her career during the Carter administration, Judy recalls dinner parties in Washington, with elected officials from both parties in attendance. There would be lively debate over policy and platforms, but there were also deep friendships and mutual concern that bridged divides, with conversations about school-aged kids, family traditions, beloved sports teams, and great books.

Woodruff says that spirit of respectful disagreement and abiding friendship has practically vanished in the nation’s capital. We might agree that the same is true for us. Nowadays, it feels like our nation and our communities are divided on almost every front, with bitter disagreement ready to explode at any moment, whether we are speaking of guns, the southern border, the books our children read, the state of our economy, or the war in Gaza. We don’t dare to have thoughtful, adult conversations about tough topics for fear that we will be attacked, shunned, or maligned. We don’t like it. In fact, 93% of us feel that our national divisions are a major problem, and we aren’t very optimistic about our ability to bridge those barriers.

Today’s reading from the Acts of the Apostles tells a story about the power of the Holy Spirit to overcome divisions and forge a new community. It begins with two dreams.

In his duty as a centurion of the Roman Empire, Cornelius had been deployed to Israel, an often-fractious outpost where the Jewish locals resented and sometimes rebelled against occupation. With the one-hundred-man cohort under his command, Cornelius had sailed across the Mediterranean to Caesarea Maritime, the Roman capital of Israel. They settled into imperial housing. They trained, drilled, and were sent out, from time to time, to put down civil unrest, like in Jerusalem at the Passover when Jewish dreams of freedom ran high. Cornelius had not only moved his men across the sea, he had also uprooted his whole family with their servants, slaves, and dependents. All now lived as strangers in a strange land.

But Cornelius, who was raised as a pagan, had fallen in love with the God of Israel. He studied the Torah and offered his prayers to God Almighty. He got to know local Jewish leaders and shared many acts of kindness and charity with the community. Then one day, as he was praying, Cornelius had a vision. An angel appeared to Cornelius, saying that God had heard his prayers and seen his good works. Cornelius must send immediately for the Apostle Peter, who had a message that needed to be heard.

We have all had times when we have been Cornelius. Work or school takes us to a new community. Uprooted in a place that does not feel like home, we make the best of it. We do our job or attend to our studies. We settle ourselves and our family. We try to make connections in the community. But underneath it all, we may feel like strangers in a strange land, unsure and a little homesick.

Meanwhile, Peter had his own dream. Resting and praying in the heat of the day at the home of his friend Simon the Tanner, Peter had also seen a vision, not once but three times. Something like a sheet was lowered by its four corners from the heavens. When Peter peeped inside, he was shocked to see unclean things: scuttling crabs and snapping lobsters, squealing pigs and hopping hares, awkward ostriches and clacking oysters. What really horrified Peter, though, was what God said next, “Get up Peter, kill and eat. What I have made clean, you must not call profane.” Eat all those disgusting, unclean foods that were forbidden by the Torah? Peter was still puzzling over his repeated vision when there was a knock on the door, the delegation from Cornelius arrived to take the apostle to meet the Roman centurion.

Peter began to wonder if his triple vision was really about food, or if God had something else in mind. Peter was not excited about the invitation to meet with the household of Cornelius; those foreign occupiers were about as appealing to Peter as Oysters Rockefeller. Peter’s travel to Caesarea must have been filled with big worries and huge doubts. He struggled with questions, “Didn’t the Torah and the tradition of the elders say that contact with Gentiles was unclean and undesirable? Was he really going to meet with the very worst kind of Gentile – a Roman occupier, the very people who had hung Jesus on a cross?”

We have all been like Peter. We feel pretty clear about what God expects of us. We don’t share Peter’s bias about kosher foods, but we do have opinions about the company we keep. We swing the door of welcome wide for family, friends, and those who seem like us. We’re not so sure about the town drunk or the mentally ill man who is waiting for the alien invasion. We’re not so sure about the colleague who tells racist jokes in the break room or the neighbor whose yard is posted with partisan placards. We might not want to open the door at all to the skinhead or the zealot.

When Peter finally arrived at the home of Cornelius, his apprehension soon vanished. The powerful Roman military officer fell to his knees, humbled that God had brought a human messenger to satisfy his spiritual hunger. As Peter helped his host to his feet and the two men shared their strange and unexpected dreams, Peter came to a new realization. Looking at Cornelius and the eager assembly of Gentile family and friends who had gathered to hear his message, Peter said, “I finally get it. God has shown me that I must not call any person profane or unclean.”

What happened next, was a little like God’s big stamp of approval for the whole barrier breaking encounter. As Peter shared the story of Jesus, his helping, healing ministry, his unselfish suffering on the cross, and his resurrection that broke the earthly powers of sin and death, something remarkable happened. Before Peter had even finished his sermon, the Holy Spirit arrived, falling on those uncircumcised Gentile outsiders. The house erupted with songs of praise and gifts or prayer, with the sound of ecstatic language and words of prophecy. It was a Gentile Pentecost that tore down every barrier that the Roman Empire, the people of Israel, or the Apostle Peter might want to build up.

It began with two dreams. But I wonder if we could add a third dream, one of our own. We won’t have a knock on the door this week, summoning us to Caesarea Maritime. Yet I trust that we will have moments of uncomfortable encounter, moments when we will find ourselves dealing with other people who stir our natural biases and preferences. It will be tempting, perhaps even second nature in this time of deep divisions, to set them straight, write them off, or turn our backs entirely. But what if those moments of aggravation and irritation that punctuate our days are actually moments of grace? Could we even imagine that those encounters are divinely appointed moments in which the Spirit can work to overcome differences and bridge divides?

Judy Woodruff, the seasoned journalist whom I mentioned at the start of my message, is in the middle of a two-year project that she calls “America at the Crossroads.” Her goal is to meet with and listen to as many Americans as she can, to try to understand why we’re so divided. In the first eleven months of her reporting, she visited fourteen states and put together twenty-one reports. She’s still dismayed about our divides, but she sees signs of hope where community members overcome their differences to work together to address local needs.

It reminds me of our local ecumenical council. As congregations, we have some big differences. We can’t agree on whether to take the Bible literally or to read it through the lens of scholarship and social historic research. We can’t agree on the sort of music we should play on Sunday mornings—pipe organ or praise band? We can’t agree on how we pray—liturgy, the words of the pastor, or the ecstatic sound of tongues? We can’t even agree on whether or not women can actually be pastors. But if you present us with a community concern, like hunger or homelessness, the Spirit prompts us to set aside our differences and get busy for the common good, launching the Food Pantry and Grace Pantry, the Community Lunchbox and Samaritan House.

So, if Peter could move past his natural bias to welcome Cornelius, if local churches can overlook our differences to meet human need, then maybe there is hope for our nation yet. It can begin with us. The next time we want to turn away from those whose beliefs and practices are unlike our own, we can remember that they aren’t necessarily evil. It just might be that our discomfort stems from the stretching of our preconceived notions and natural bias. We can dare to remember that God’s welcome is always wider than we imagine. God may be calling us to try something new, to welcome someone new, to build a world where the words “us and them” are heard less, and the words “we and us” are heard more.

We may not be able to singlehandedly overcome America’s divisions, but we can trust that the Holy Spirit can. May we live into the Spirit’s leading and dare to practice a wider welcome.

Resources:

Judy Woodruff. “This is what political division looks like in the U.S. right now” in PBS News Hour, Dec. 19, 2023. Accessed online at  This is what political division looks like in the U.S. right now | PBS NewsHour

Sara Machi. Nine in ten Americans say overcoming divisiveness is now more important than ever before in IPSOS, April 27, 2021. Accessed online at Nine in ten Americans say overcoming divisiveness is now more important than ever before | Ipsos

Richard Jensen. “Commentary on Acts 10:44-48” in Preaching This Week, May 17, 2009. Accessed online at Commentary on Acts 10:44-48 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Jacob Myers. “Commentary on Acts 10:44-48” in Preaching This Week, May 13, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on Acts 10:44-48 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Jerusha Matson Neal. “Commentary on Acts 10:44-48” in Preaching This Week, May 9, 2021. Accessed online at Commentary on Acts 10:44-48 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

F. Scott Spencer. “Commentary on Acts 10:44-48” in Preaching This Week, May 5, 2024. Accessed online at Commentary on Acts 10:44-48 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Acts 10:44-48

44While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit fell upon all who heard the word. 45The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles, 46for they heard them speaking in tongues and extolling God. Then Peter said, 47“Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?” 48So he ordered them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. Then they invited him to stay for several days.

“Baptism of Cornelius” by Francesco Trevisani, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons