For many reasons, I love Children’s Bibles. When done well, they are a wonderful tool to help learners of all ages and abilities to hear about God’s presence in the world and God’s relationship with God’s people. I love the artistic interpretations that illustrators create. I love that they can cover massive amounts of text in a way that is accessible and understandable. And I love the fact that with careful listening, adults can hear familiar stories in a new way. No, they aren’t exact translations. Yes, they are an invitation into God’s story. So this summer, most weeks we’ll hear at least one story from a Children’s Bibles. For kiddos, I invited you to listen and hear God working in the world. And for adults, I invite you to notice some differences and wonder why some of those choices were made. And I invite you to ask some of the kids this summer, “What did you notice? What made you wonder?” You may be surprised at their answers!
This story of Pentecost is an invitation into the people of God. It’s an invitation to imagine what could be, to imagine what the Kingdom of God on Earth might look like and sound like and feel like. It’s an invitation to engage and create something new, at God’s insistence. It compels a response to God’s call. For those who lean on empire and coercive power, imagination can be a dangerous exercise. It leans into abundant possibilities that liberate.
“The book of Acts speaks of revolution. We must never forget this.”[1] writes theologian Willie James Jennings. After the seemingly endless news of violence over the past days, weeks, and months, after the seemingly constant barrage of accounts and witnesses of injustices, the idea that the story of Acts speaks of revolution feels almost like relief. But, as we see in this story, and heard in other stories of Acts—Peter and Cornelius, Tabitha, Paul and Silas—this revolution isn’t coercive or violent. No, this revolution is compassionate and invitational. It invites us, as listeners and readers, into the story of and into relationship with God: A God that is revealed and made known, again and again, in new and surprising ways; a God that does not rely on the power of empire, but is made known in the wisdom and experiences of the child, the widow, the slave, and the oppressed. “God speaks people fluently. And God, with all the urgency that is with the Holy Spirit, wants the disciples of his only begotten Son to speak people fluently too. This is the beginning of a revolution that the Spirit performs.”[2]
Again and again, we’re invited into the story. We’re invited to recognize God’s presence and God’s spirit. We’re encouraged to imagine what a new world, what God’s Kingdom on Earth, might look like and feel like. And we’re invited to help shape that reality, not only as individuals but as larger communities. We're invited to imagine and we’re invited to ask others to imagine with us.
Like John the Baptist proclaiming, “Repent! The Kingdom of God is at hand!,” Peter and the apostles proclaim God’s presence in the world through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Peter and the apostles praise a God whose Spirit and presence is revealed and made known in a rush of wind and tongues of fire. But, as miraculous as it was to hear such news in a variety of languages—it was a struggle for many to believe. It was easier to write Peter off by saying they were drunk. Still today, it’s a struggle and a challenge to yield to God’s Spirit, following God into the new that God imagines and is bringing about for the world.[3] To imagine, to wonder, to lean into to God’s Spirit that doesn’t work in the ways that we’re used to can be hard in a world that often demands black and white answers and is too often fueled by greed and violence.
And yet God continues to show up in the world, constantly, continually, throughout time and place. God continues to be in relationship with the world, speaking to people fluently, in ways that we might understand. The story in Acts shows us what God’s design might be for the world—that in all our diversity, we are known by God and that we seek to continue to know God. It makes plain God’s call and our response, our call and God’s response.
Sometimes that requires a different voice or different language, different imagery and illustrations, different life experiences and different questions to help each of us recognize God’s expansive love, that God knows us and wants us to know God and others. We’re reminded that God is not made in our image, but that we are made in God’s. And so we celebrate the diversity and work to understand friend, neighbor, stranger, and even enemy. And maybe in turn, even be truly known. It’s a powerful, revolutionary act to speak in a way that another understands. It’s a gift in and of itself.
My father’s first language is Samoan, but growing up in Southern Indiana didn’t afford us many opportunities to interact with the Samoan community. And even though he lived in the States longer than he lived in Samoa, whenever he met someone from “back home,” he was noticeably different. His countenance visibly changed. He held himself differently. His eyes seemed brighter. And after switching back to English, he spoke differently, almost as if his Spirit was lifted from that encounter. Because he didn’t have to explain his experiences or code switch and he didn’t have to deal with micro-aggressions. He could just be known. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve recognized what a gift it was to him.
Church, what are the languages we need to learn so that this revolution of the Spirit might be more fully known? What is the language of God we most desperately need to hear so that we might be transformed?[4] How might we be changed so that the Spirit’s daring revolution might break us open in ways that we might not only imagine possibilities, but that we might work towards making them a reality here on Earth?
Over a year ago, a “Faith Formation Task Force” gathered to help name what was integral to our community of faith and helped give language to principles/pillars that help ground us so that we might share the love of God with ourselves, our neighbors, and the world. These pillars invite us to practice together, to make space to be authentically known, and to affirm our many gifts. They have been written about and shared briefly, but this summer we’ll be taking a deeper dive to each of these eleven pillars so that we might imagine together, be transformed together, that we might offer welcome, and that we might recognize God’s presence in and among us.
May we give thanks for the multitude of diverse ways God’s makes Godself known to us in big and small ways. May we celebrate the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. May our language, our minds, and our actions be opened to the Spirit’s transformative and revolutionary ways. May we learn together to speak to and with people a little more fluently. Guided by Christ’s teachings, may we imagine together. And may we work together in compassion, justice, and love.
[1] Pg.1 Jennings WJ. Acts / Willie James Jennings. First edition. Westminster John Knox Press; 2017.
[2] Ibid. 30.
[3] Ibid. 2.
[4] https://www.patheos.com/blogs/ecopreacher/2017/06/lengua-dios-pentecost-language-god/. Accessed June 1, 2022.