Sermon for Pentecost Sunday May 31, 2020

I like to camp. One time in high school a group of friends went camping down Dry Creek Road. We had turned right on the dirt road that leads to Devil’s Bridge and Vultee Arch. We didn’t drive too far down that road as some people didn’t have off road vehicles. There was a place to camp, a pull out from the road not long after the road dipped down and then turned quickly to the right. There was a bluff where jeep tours would stop at sunset. Tourists could take pictures of Cock’s Comb and Doe mountain. It was a spot folks liked to get married at too. Thunder mountain looming to the southeast bearing witness to the solemn act. On that northern slope protected somewhat from the harsh sun the trees grew abundantly. Arizona cypress smooth bark and translucent green bunches of fir needles. Also Shaggy Bark Juniper, the truly dominant tree of the area like sisters and brothers spread out over the landscape twisted and contorted fingers sculpted by soft earth. 

The camp spot was on an adjacent bluff also with good views. We parked around the bluff and carried the tents, bedrolls, firewood, and water up to the spot. At least one person had a four wheel drive truck. They parked at the top because they could. The essence of adolescence is that isn’t it? Doing what you can. After a picturesque sunset and jeep tours had all gone the lonesome starry sky belonged to only us or so we liked to tell ourselves. The fire was easily built. But as the sun went down the wind came up. It blew stronger and stronger. Not being new to camping we knew enough to not burn the forest down. The wind blew so hard we feared sparks would whip out into grass or shrub. It was cold too, you had to get so close to the fire to be warm your front side burned while your backside froze. What could we do?

Nobody knows more about camping than the generation of Hebrews who left Egypt in the Exodus. At first they didn’t know anything about camping. They’d cry out in hunger to God and Moses complaining that slavery was better in Egypt where they could eat their fill from the flesh pots. What’s freedom if you have to eat bugs and dirt in the desert? But the years went by, and the people got better at it. Moses learned too. He couldn’t manage leading the people all on his own. It was killing him. Finally 70 elders would be chosen to lead the tribes, clans, and families. Representatives of the people. But something went sideways. As God’s cloud settled on the meeting place, a wind whipped up and rather than the power being centralized on the prescribed set, two unlikely fellows, Eldad and Medad, who didn’t even have enough sense to be at the meeting place on time, were slayed by the Spirit. Right there in the middle of the camp they started prophesying. No ordination. No chain of command. Just raw spiritual power flowing through them. They called out prophetic words of God shocking the people and sending Joshua to tattle tale to Moses. Moses, like a chef who had just broken 68 eggs to make an omelet smiled at the miraculous off menu two poached eggs. “Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets,” he said. 

Air is the key ingredient. What is the Holy Spirit but God’s very breath? Without God’s breath we die. A person without air will live only maybe 3 minutes, and then they are gone from this world forever. The tragic death of George Floyd reminds us of this. On the day that Jesus resurrected from the dead he went in and met with the disciples in the upper room. According to John he breathed on them the Holy Spirit and gave them the power to forgive sins, or to retain sins. “Whatever you forgive is forgiven, whatever you retain is retained.” You have the power. The only way to find new life is to let go of the past when you are ready. Forgive yourself first. Nobody can do your forgiving for you. It is a power that God gives only to you. 

Forgiveness by the Holy Spiri