Acts 2, Romans 8 - May 28, 2023 - Pentecost

We have a tradition of talking about the stained glass windows on Pentecost. 

My favorite thing about this building is the stained glass. To me, it is what stained glass should look like. The most prominent window is this one in the back - the huge, 30 foot tall window. 

Some people have asked me if that is supposed to be St. Philip, which is a good guess, but no, it’s Jesus. It’s full of symbols to help remind us who Jesus is. Jesus is holding a shield which has NIKA on it, a Greek word which means “victor.” Near his right foot, there is the book with the four crosses, symbolizing the four Gospel narratives about Jesus. And over at the other foot is a lamp, reminding us that Jesus is the light of the world. Up the left side is a pillar, much like the poles they used to strap prisoners to when they were whipping them, reminding us of Jesus’ suffering. And on the right is a vine going up the entire right side, reminding us of Jesus’ words, “I am the vine, you are the branches.” At the top is the cross and crown - promise and hope for us.

It’s a beautiful window - even more so when the sun is right about there and the light pours into this room with a kaleidoscope of colors. It is beautiful in here. And while that is the most prominent of the windows, we also have these on the sides.

Over here we have three windows for the Trinity. Father, with the star of David, and the eye and hand showing us that God sees and gives everything. And then, if you look just right, the words along the bottom, “I am who I am.”

The Son, with the lamb carrying the victory banner and the Greek letters Alpha and Omega, reminding us that Jesus is the beginning and the end.

And the Holy Spirit - with an image of a Bible up top. God calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies through the Word. Then a dove at the bottom, much like the Spirit descended as a dove at Jesus’ baptism. 

Over here we have the windows which display the seasons of the Church year. We start on the left with Advent and Christmas with the manger and a shepherd’s crook. Moving to the right we have a Star and Three Crowns for Epiphany. We keep going and we get to a cross in the middle with a crown of thorns for Lent and Holy Week. Then a butterfly in the top - a symbol of resurrection with lilies down below. And finally, the last window is the Pentecost window with flames stretching through this window and into the other panels. Fire, fire like the tongues of flame we heard about in our story from Acts. 

Newest additions, paintings behind the lectern and pulpit which were created by Lori Dauphin, local artist. Meant to fit in with the rest of the stained glass. 

Word and sacrament. Go with the one that is a little easier to understand first - the one that has communion elements on it. There is the chalice and host, grapes and wheat - fruit from the earth, given by God’s hands. 

Then on the other side, we have the four authors of the Gospels - Matthew, Mark, Luke and John - known as the Evangelists. They are often represented with their symbols: the Winged Man or Angel for Saint Matthew (Jesus incarnate, a human), the Lion for Saint Mark (kingly, royalty), the Ox for Saint Luke (service and sacrifice) and the Eagle for Saint John (lofty, high, name above every name).

We use these windows and the symbols on them to teach us, to share the story, to remind us of all that God does.

Because the Holy Spirit is hard. It’s something we can’t see. It’s not tangible like Jesus is. Even though Jesus is “God made flesh,” we at least “get” that flesh part a little bit. Jesus is just like you and me! We like that, we can comprehend that. 

And in a sacramental church, we appreciate those things we can see, touch, taste, feel. That’s why God gave us communion and baptism - those are things that awaken our senses, ways we can know anew God’s love for us because we can hold it in our hands. 

And the stained glass windows are something we can see, something that helps us, reminds us of God and God’s story. And on this Pentecost Sunday, I can’t help but make the connection between the windows and the Holy Spirit. 

Here’s what I mean. Sometimes, these windows, when the light is shining through them… boy, they are hard to miss. They are grand and beautiful, and they leave an impact. They change the way this room looks and feels. When the sun is just right, the windows are impossible to miss.

Just like, sometimes, the Holy Spirit’s presence is unmistakable. Like in our lesson from Acts 2: there is the rushing wind; tongues of fire; big, dramatic moments where it is obvious the Spirit is up to something. 

The Holy Spirit moves in big, grand, no-way-you-can-miss-it kind of ways. Ways like a successful capital campaign to move worship and music and fellowship and parking forward. It’s hard not to think that God is up to something here at St. Philip with a response like that.

But the Spirit doesn’t always work in flames and gale-force winds. The Spirit is still present, even when we don’t notice it. Even when things aren’t ablaze or causing people to speak in tongues. The Spirit is there in subtle ways, ways that are just as important, like what we hear from our lesson in Romans 8. 

There the Spirit is much more subtle. The Spirit leads, the Spirit helps us in our weakness, the Spirit intercedes for us when we don’t know what to say, the Spirit works through people even when we don’t know it is happening. The Spirit is always there, just like the windows that surround us, even if we kind of forget or don’t notice. They always tell the story, they always have reminders, they always show us again. 

And then, when we catch sight of them… we know, we see, we are reminded. We always have the story, always have the reminder, always have the Spirit present. Even right now, even if we forget or don’t notice. 

The Spirit moves in behind-the-scenes ways, like with people stepping up and using their gifts in a variety of ways. 

The Holy Spirit’s calling is constant, guiding us through both joys and challenges, bringing peace and healing among the pain. It calls us to move forward individually and forward together in our life of faith. And while we sometimes don’t see, sometimes don’t know what the future holds, sometimes flat-out forget, the Spirit is there with reminders of the promise.

And in one blazingly bright declaration, Paul lays out what that promise is. For I am convinced… nothing will separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Not height, not depth, not angels or rulers, not what is or what will be, not life, not death, nothing in all of creation will separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

It’s the bright, shining, 30-foot tall Christ window. You can’t miss it. 

God’s love is grand and beautiful, and it leaves an impact. Love changes things. It’s hard to miss when love is articulated just right. And yet, even in the small, subtle ways, God’s love is present. It’s always there, whether we are mindful of it or not. It’s there to remind us, to support us, to intercede with sighs too deep for words. Always. 

So, may you be mindful of the grand ways in which God works in your life.
May you take comfort in knowing that the Spirit is there even when you’re unaware.
May you be convinced, in ways bright and grand, subtle and small, that nothing will ever separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus, your Lord.