Breath of God
John 20:19-23
Emmanuel Baptist Church
May 31, 2020; Rev. Kathy Donley
A recording of the service in which this sermon was preached may be viewed here:
I looked back at old bulletins and discovered that I haven’t been with you on Pentecost for a few years. When I was with you, I tended to repeat one language lesson, but I have no idea what the guest preachers did, so just in case, here it is again.
Ruach is a Hebrew word. It means wind or spirit or breath. If you see a sentence like “the ruach lifted the kite” you could translate it “The wind lifted the kite” or “the spirit lifted the kite” or “the breath lifted the kite.” All of those translations are accurate.
Does anyone know the Greek word like this? . . . Yes, I heard it from over there. The Greek word is pneuma. And, just like ruach, it means wind, breath or spirit.
Only two of the Gospel writers describe the giving of the Holy Spirit. We usually read Acts 2, written by Luke. That’s the story we heard in the Godly Play video. In Luke’s version, the Holy Spirit is a very loud and windy wind. But in John’s telling, the Spirit is breath
In John’s gospel, only part of a day has elapsed between the resurrection and the imparting of the Spirit. It is Easter evening and the disciples are together behind locked doors when Jesus appears. He says “Peace to you.” It was a standard way to say hello and still is in Israel-Palestine. He says it twice, because the first time, they are still afraid. They haven’t recognized him yet. “Peace to you” from a stranger does not mean the same thing as “peace” from Jesus. When Jesus, the Risen One, says it, he enacts the peace. Jesus is their most trusted teacher. Jesus is the one who has literally been to hell and back. And so, when he says peace, everyone in the room lets go of their fear and breathes more easily.
One time, a church invited a well-known guest preacher, the Rev. Tom Long, to come for a special intergenerational worship service. They gathered around tables in the fellowship hall which were already set with the ingredients to make bread. Each group was supposed to prepare a loaf of bread and then while it baked in the kitchen, there were various exercises designed to get them talking about faith issues.
This was one of those things that looked better on the drawing board, than in reality. The kids played in the baking ingredients, and white clouds of flour coated everything. There were delays in the kitchen and the bread baked very slowly. People ran out of things to talk about. The children got bored and fussy. The planners had hoped for an event with excitement, innovation, peak learning, and moving worship. What happened was noise, exhaustion and people making the best of a difficult situation.
Dr. Long said, “In other words, despite the rosy plans, it was the real church worshipping down there in the church basement.” Finally, the service ended and he was able to pronounce the benediction. “The Peace of Christ be with you all,” he said, and just as he did, a child’s voice from somewhere in the room called out strong and true, “It already is.” [1]
“The Peace of Christ is already with us. A month ago, I remembered that story and I saved it for today. I thought this was going to be a sermon about the comfort and peace brought by the Spirit. I invited you to bring your signs of peace so that we could pass the peace of Christ and remind each other – the peace of Christ is already with us.
That is still true, but I hear it slightly different now. After the events of the last week, the last month, I could not preach a simple sermon on peace. The prophets Ezekiel and Jeremiah warned against those who say “peace, peace, when there is no peace”. So, I could not just act as though we are safe here in the Zoom space and pretend that nothing unpeaceful is happening. I had to go back to the text and look again.
After Jesus says “Peace be with you”, he says “receive the Holy Spirit” and he breathes on them. He breathes on them and it’s the same word as when God exhaled the breath of life into Adam and he become a living being. It’s the same word as in Ezekiel 37 where God’s breath/wind/spirit blows into the dry bones of Ezekiel’s vision so that they may live. And what I had hoped to say today was that the peace of Christ is already with us, it is as close as our breath.
But as soon as I say that, I think of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery, who are no longer breathing. And I think of people of color who never breathe easily because the foot of oppression is on their necks. And I’m thinking of 100,000 Americans who have died from a virus that stole their breath, and of thousands more across the country who cannot inhale without a ventilator. And I cannot say “peace, peace” when there is no peace.
I go back to the text and look again. Jesus says “receive the Holy Breath, the Holy Wind, the Holy Spirit” and he breathes it onto them. It doesn’t seem like they have a choice. They aren’t socially distanced. They aren’t wearing masks. They cannot help but receive the Spirit and the power that comes with it.
They had locked themselves away in fear, with good reason. The world terrorizes those who work for justice; it crucifies Love incarnate. Within a few years, the disciples in that locked room will see their beloved Jerusalem in flames; before John’s gospel is written down, they will know the pain of religious factionalism, of persecution and violent separation from friends and family over their understanding of faith. So, if there is a peace that comes with the breath of the Spirit, it needs to be a strong, resilient peace.
Before Jesus breathes Spirit into them, he says “as the Father has sent me, so send I you.” Let that sink in. God sent Jesus to earth where he was accepted by many, but mostly rejected by the powerful, and where he ultimately endured a painful public death. And Jesus says, “as I was sent, so I send you.”
“The coming of Jesus is not just a nice presence; it is a mission.” Walter Brueggemann says, “. . . I do not know where you are sent. But I give you this word from Jesus; you are sent. And if you want the peace of Jesus, then you must accept the sending of Jesus. . . . Jesus is sending all of his disciples, all those baptized in his name, all who share his life, all to the same place, all to the neighbor whom God loves, all to the neighbor in need. . .. Before the sun sets on Pentecost,” Brueggemann says, “we must rethink this sending, and how we will go, and where. If, however, we do not go, we can forget about his offer of peace.” [2]
I have pretty much taken for granted the ability to breathe. I do it all the time without conscious thought. My breathing sustains me without my paying much attention to it. But today, I’m thinking about the Spirit/Breath/Wind of God and I’m wondering if I take that for granted too. How often is the Spirit moving in and around me and I haven’t bothered to notice? What a privilege it is to be able to breathe easily, to breath without fear and without a ventilator. With privilege comes responsibility. So, as long as I draw breath, how do I embody Spirit-infused love and justice? How do I love as Jesus loves?
Father Richard Rohr has said that If we do not transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it.[3] You and I have seen so much transmitted pain this week --the pain of grief, of justified rage, the rioting of the unheard. If we do not transform our pain, we will surely transmit it. Transformation is Spirit-work and forgiveness is its best tool.
Jesus breathes Spirit onto the disciples and sends them out into a hostile world, empowered with forgiveness. “Because without the work of the Spirit, without the power of forgiveness, the world will be devoured in anger, in violence and in vengeance.”[4]
Those are more of Brueggemann’s good words, “without the work of the Spirit, without the power of forgiveness, the world will be devoured in anger, in violence and in vengeance.” We know the truth of this. On this Pentecost Sunday especially, we feel the anger, the violence, the vengeance that threaten to devour us all. And so, we plead “Come Holy Spirit. Come with power to transform and heal and forgive. Come Holy Spirit. Come and grant us your peace.”
The peace of Christ be with you all.
Not an easy peace,
not an insignificant peace,
not a halfhearted peace,
but the peace of God in Christ Jesus be with you.
It already is.
[1] Thomas G. Long, Whispering the Lyrics: Sermons for Lent and Easter, (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Company, 1995,) p. 93-94.
[2] Walter Brueggemann, “The Ultimate Gate-Crasher” in The Collected Sermons of Walter Brueggemann, Vol 1 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2011), pp. 34-35.
[4] Walter Brueggemann, “The Life-Giving Wind from Nazareth” in The Collected Sermons of Walter Brueggemann, Vol 2 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2015), p. 160.