Author: Pastor Aleese Kenitzer

I recently had a friend tell me, “May is a month full of beginnings and endings.”

It’s true, isn’t it? For many, May is a busy month. But May is also a month in which a school year ends, and summer begins. May is a month we celebrate the graduation of high school and college seniors, and we look ahead to new beginnings. And, May is a month where the school year rhythm ends and a summer pace sets in. 

Perhaps for yourself you’ve been experiencing other beginnings and endings, too. Our lives are full of ’em. On the whole, those beginnings and endings may bring excitement. But they may also bring apprehension, uncertainty, and even grief. Though it may seem strange to think of a beginning as yeilding such emotions, it’s true. Talk to any grief counselor and they’ll tell you that any shift – an ending or a beginning – is something that impacts us. 

This past weekend in worship we heard from the prophet Isaiah, encouraging the Israelites not to look to the past, but to free themselves from what they expected in order to percieve what God was doing. To be clear – there are times that it is helpful to look to what has come before us. And, there are times in which we need to grieve something that is coming to a close. But, if we hold onto those “things” (whatever it may be) it may keep us from perceiving what God is already doing in us and around us. 

So as you continue into the summer, consider the beginnings and endings that you’ve been experiencing. And, consider if there is something that you’ve been holding onto that might be keeping you from recognizing what God is laying before you, or even before the church. All the time, God is doing something. Now, it’s up to us to join in what what God has already started.

After celebrating Holy Trinity Sunday this past weekend, we begin almost six months of time in the season of Pentecost. From now until November, the gospel readings will move chronologically through Matthew.

Sometimes, this time is referred to as “Ordinary Time.” Which, can be misinterpreted. “Ordinary Time” seems to suggest that it is nothing special, and something that is humdrum. But in the context of the church year, the word “ordinary” comes from the root “ordinal” meaning “related to a series.”

So instead of thinking of the next few months as “nothing special,” think of Ordinary Time as an ordered, deliberate, six-month step-by-step pilgrimage through the story of Jesus’ life with Mark as our guide. We may not have high holidays like Christmas and Easter to celebrate in the coming months. But each and every week, we have the opportunity to gather together for worship, to hear the story of Christ’s life, to grow in faith, and to be sent forth into service with the Spirit leading us. 

We hope to see you around this summer as we dive into “Ordinary Time” together, and we look forward to where our pilgrimage takes us…together!

This past Sunday we celebrated the coming of the Spirit by commemorating the day of Pentecost. When the Spirit came upon the people gathered in Jerusalem (see Acts 2:1-21), it came like the rush of a violent wind, filling the whole house. This was no “calm” Spirit that came in like a gentle breeze. This was a forceful Spirit that interrupted everything going on. Given the intensity of this moment, it would’ve been challenging for anyone present to not pay attention. And given the momentum of this moment, it would’ve been challenging for this interruption to not interrupt – and change – everyone involved. 

Looking back on the story, it might be easy to recognize that this was a significant moment for those people, signaling the birth of the church. But when we bring this story to ourselves, and when we think about the coming of the Spirit in our lives, and in the world today, I have to wonder how we’d respond to the Spirit working in us, and through us, in the same way.  For when we think of ourselves, are we willing to be interrupted by the Spirit? And, are we willing to be transformed by the Spirit? 

Plain and simple: the Spirit has the power to change our lives, our world, and our church. But that change is not just for change sake. Rather, the power of the Spirit that comes among us interrupts us to foster growth, flourishing, and life. 

Think of those little plant seedlings you see at greenhouses this time of year. Once you purchase those seedlings, it’s likely those little guys have already been exposed to extra wind in the greenhouse, making ’em bend. Now, if I were those plants, I’m sure that wouldn’t feel great. But all that wind causes the seedlings to establish deeper and broader root systems, and it causes the seedlings to grow a thicker, stronger base rather than being thin and spindly. 

In the same way, when the Spirit interrupts us, while it may feel as though it’s making us bend this way and that, that wind of the Spirit is for our growth, our flourishing, and our life. 

So as we go forth from the Day of Pentecost into the long season of Pentecost, consider for yourself: are you willing to be surprised – even interrupted – by the Spirit? It might feel a bit uncomfortable at times, but it is that wind of the Spirit that longs to blow through you – filling you with life, and ushering you forth to live in the hope of God’s Kingdom. 

Whether as a kid, youth, or adult, you’ve likely experienced a relay in some fashion. The point of a relay is to complete a task (often a race) by involving multiple people. Though it may be possible for one person to complete the entire task on his/her own, a relay demands the involvement of multiple people, and a relay demands that the “baton” (whether literal or figurative) needs to be passed off. 

So with that analogy in mind, what would you say if I were to suggest that you – as the living body of Christ today – have received the baton from Christ to continue his work in the world?

At first, it might sound like a pretty important handoff. And, it might sound like a very, very valuable baton that you wouldn’t want to drop. But why would Jesus hand off something so important to people like us? Couldn’t Jesus just run the entire race of God’s mission in the world and keep us out of it? 

Jesus could. But upon Jesus’ return after his resurrection, virtually every documented appearance to his disciples was preparing them to take up the baton of his mission in the world. So when Jesus ascended to his Father, it was then that Jesus gave his disciples one final handoff, promising them that they wouldn’t have to run the race on their own. Instead, the Holy Spirit would come upon them, giving them all they needed to continue the race. 

From generation to generation, this baton of continuing Christ’s work in the world has been passed along…being passed all the way down to you. And now you, dear Shepherds, are the ones holding this valuable charge in your hands to further God’s Kingdom on earth. So how might you do so this week? For some insight, listen in to the sermon from this past weekend to get some pointed guidance. And even more than that, take some time in prayer, to listen that what and where God may be leading you to continue Christ’s work in the world. Each and every day, we have the opportunity to be agents of God’s redemption in the world, making all things new. In small ways and big ways, the Spirit is ever moving through us to accomplish God’s purposes. 

So this week, will you take up the baton? And, will you join the race? 

Try telling a young child to do something (or not do something) and you might be met with a response of “why?” As kids learn and grow, over time, they want to know “why” they are encouraged to do some things and not others. 

In the same way, when we hear Jesus command us to do certain things (and not others), we might intially respond with a similar response of “why”? Why love? Why bear fruit? Why abide in Christ? Many of us likely “know” that it’s a “good thing” to follow these commands. But really…why do we do these things?

Well, in our Gospel lesson this past Sunday, the answer was quite clear: we keep Christ’s commandments given to us because as we do so, we abide in God’s love. And even further, as we do so, our joy is made complete. 

Think about that and let it sink in: as we follow God’s command to love others, it’s actually our own joy that expands, and it is our own relationship with Christ that is transformed. 

So could we choose not to follow God’s command to love others and to bear fruit? Sure, but as we do so, we’ll be the ones missin’ out.

Have you ever tried pulling apart a mess of Christmas lights that haven’t been put away properly? That mess of cords can be just that…a mess! And in haste, it may be tempting to start pulling at whatever end you happen to find. But, as many of you likely know, to do so often just makes the problem worse. It creates even more knots in the cords that also has the potential to break wires and bulbs. 

There’s potential for damage when we just start yanking on an entangled strand of lights. And, in the same way, if we were to just start yanking on an interwined vine, the same would happen. Putting added stress on the vine, and trying to pull away from the other branches would actually damage the vine as a whole, and would inhibit the vine from bearing fruit. 

This past weekend, we heard Jesus use the illustration of a vine as he addressed his disciples on the eve of his death. “I am the vine, you are the branches,” Jesus said (John 15:5). Often, we focus on our connection to Jesus (which is completely valid!) But as people connected to Jesus, then we are also connected to one another. Like it or not, we are not the only ones on the vine. And, within the church, we aren’t the only disciples, or the only body of Christ, that is a part of God’s vineyard. 

So rather than pulling away from fellow believers, and rather than pulling away from other communities that proclaim the message of Jesus, what would it be like to lean into our interconnectedness? And what would it be like to rely on one another – putting our fate and our success into the hands of one another?

To connect ourselves in such a way might seem as though we’re becoming an entangled mess. But as people abiding in Christ, we are also called to abide with one another in the vine as we live out our shared purpose to bear fruit: fruit that will last. 

So this week, consider who is around you. How could you lean into the interconnectedness you share with others rather than pulling away? And, how might we as the church lean into our interconnectedness rather than trying to exist on our own? It might take a bit of practice, but in doing so, we might find life we might otherwise would’ve never known.