Fire and Water

A Sermon for Pentecost (RCL A) 6-12-2011

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry (annual outdoor liturgy)

Texts:              Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104:24-35, 37; 1 Corinthians 12:3b-13; John 7:37-39

Title:               Fire and Water

Fire! And water! Today, of course, we remember and celebrate the greatest gift that God have ever given to humanity: that is, the gift of the Holy Spirit which descended upon the disciples as tongues of flame.

Fire and water. These are the elements that the Church has always used to speak of the Holy Spirit.

I want us to think about this together a bit this morning. Here we are, gathered by a major body of water, and there is fire burning right back there in those grills!

These two elements – fire and water – are crucial and necessary for human life.

We cannot live without water. As you know, up to 60% of our bodies are water.

We also cannot live without fire. Fire is the source of our heat and our light; it is also how we cook our food, like we hope those guys are doing over there!  

There are other things that we need to survive: food and shelter, of course. But the Bible and the Church have been clear in pointing to fire and water as symbols of the Holy Spirit.

Why do you think that is?

First, I think it is because they are elements essential for life. We call the Holy Spirit “the Spirit of life”.

This is what the Psalm said today: “You send forth your Spirit and they are created, and so you renew the face of the earth.”

But I also think we speak about the Holy Spirit as fire and water because these things are so notoriously difficult to control! We human beings have never been very good at controlling water and fire!

Just look at the news right now: a massive wildfire is raging out of control in Arizona. Devastating floods continue to affect large areas along the Mississippi and Missouri rivers, as well as up in Vermont.  

Fire and water are crucial and vital for us only when we have them in small quantities that we can control. But when the quantity becomes too much, we lose all control and those forces act as if they have a mind of their own.

This is how it works with the Holy Spirit as well. We really like it when there’s a bit of the Spirit moving in our midst. That means that things are growing perhaps. There is some energy in our community, some new people are joining us. There’s a feeling of joy and excitement among us.

This is all wonderful, but only so long as there’s not too much of the Holy Spirit. We don’t want things to become out of control, do we?

We don’t want the fire to burn out of control! We don’t want the water to flood our community!

We want the Spirit to stay controlled, where we can manage it.

But the Spirit always has a mind of its own, and whenever possible, the Spirit is always pushing the edges of our control.

What did St. Paul say of the Holy Spirit in our reading from his first letter to the Church in Corinth?

All kinds of different gifts handed out by God to those in the community “just as the Spirit chooses.”

And what happened after all on that day of Pentecost among the disciples there in Jerusalem? Tongues of fire came upon them and took control of them in a very real way.

Why did the bystanders think that they were drunk? Because it appeared that they were acting out of control? And why is that? Because the fire of the Holy Spirit had come among them!

Blaise Pascal was a French mathematician, scientist, and philosopher, as well as a disciple of the Lord, who died in 1662. A few years before his death he had a profound experience of God coming into his life, like an uncontrollable power bursting upon his consciousness.

The experience was so profound that he wrote it down immediately in these words raw with passion, almost chaotic in ecstasy:

“The year of the Lord 1654. Monday, 23 Novemeber, from about half past ten in the evening until about half past twelve at night: Fire. God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob, not the God of philosophers and scholars. Certainty, joy, peace. God of Jesus Christ. He is only found along the ways that are taught in the Gospel. Tears of joy. I had parted from him. I fled from him, denied him, crucified him. Let me never be separated from him. Surrender to Jesus Christ.”

Fire. For two hours, the Holy Spirit touched Blaise Paschal in a direct and powerful way.

And what was the first word that he could use to describe that experience? Fire.

There’s one more thing that is special about fire and water and that points to the purposes of the Holy Spirit in our lives.

Both fire and water are used to clean. We wash with water; we sterilize with fire.

Even in nature, the waters from floods are used to cleanse the land and to bring new and fresh soil into the river bottoms.

And after forest fires, new seedlings are enabled to sprout as the old dead wood is cleansed away.

In the Bible, think of the flood in the days of Noah sent to cleanse the earth of evil, and the promise of fire in the last days for the same purpose.   

The Lord Jesus spoke of rivers of living water that would flow out of our hearts when we drank in all of the truth and goodness that we experience in him. That river cannot flow if it is blocked by the cares of the world, by the desires for things of this world. The Spirit wants to cleanse us so that this living water might flow unhindered for the blessing of all those around us: our families, our neighbors, our friends, our co-workers.

 Are you ready to lose some control? Are you ready for the power of the Holy Spirit?

So welcome the Holy Spirit into your lives, my friends. Let the Spirit cleanse you. Do not be afraid to let the Spirit be in control. And do not be afraid when the Spirit brings new life and new possibilities into your life. Amen.  

The Tender Compassion of our King

Sermon for the Feast of Christ the King (C RCL 11/21/2010), offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Jeremiah 23:1-6; Luke 1:68-79; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43

Today, my dear friends, is the last Sunday of the Church Year. It is called “Christ the King Sunday” and it is a time, here at the end of our annual cycle, for us to recognize the Lordship of Jesus Christ over all of human history. Even though we celebrate this truth at this time every year, you and I still have to wrestle with this question once again: What does it mean to have Jesus as our king? To have him as our monarch, the one who governs all things in our lives, because of our willing and voluntary assent to his authority?

Now, I have to confess that I have no idea at all what it is like to live under a King’s rule. Nor, frankly, do I have any wish whatsoever to experience this! Our little mountain cabin is located is New Hampshire and, God willing, we will be going up there for Thanksgiving. One of the things I love about that state is its motto. Do you know it?

NH State Motto
“Live free or die.” This motto comes from a toast made by a New Hampshire Revolutionary War hero named General John Stark. His toast for a reunion of revolutionary war veterans was this: “Live free or die; death is not the worst of evils.” That’s how I think. Don’t try to tell me what to do! I’m not good at submitting to authority, so the very idea of having an earthly king to rule over me honestly is quite repugnant.

But I do have a king. We have a king, though I don’t think this title does any justice to who he is and how he governs the world. Because this Christ, this Messiah, this King is unlike any governor or president or emperor that this world has ever known. Doesn’t it seem a bit odd that we read about the crucifixion on this feast of Christ the King? There is a deep mystery here. Let us pay attention to it. Our King shows his majesty from the cross. This King reveals his worthiness to rule when he suffers such embarrassment, such ignominy, such cruelness, such pain. Even on the cross, even in the face of such apparent weakness, he wields his great power – the power to heal and to transform.

During Holy Week, of course we read this very text from Luke and we sing of the glory of the cross. One of the ancient hymns that we sing is #161 in the Hymnal. The words were written by Venantius Fortunatus in the 6th century and paraphrased in the hymnal in this way:

The flaming banners of our King, advance through his self-offering. He lived to rob death of its sting; he died eternal life to bring.


A Roman soldier drew a spear to mix his blood with water clear. That blood retains its living power; the water cleanses to this hour.


The crowd would have been satisfied to see a prophet crucified. They stumbled on a mystery: Messiah reigning from a tree!


With what strange light the rough trunk shone, its purple limbs a royal throne, its load a royal treasury: the ransom of a world set free.


The best are shamed before that wood; the worst gain power to be good. O grant, most blessed Trinity, that all may share the victory.

The messiah reigning from a tree. When the repentant thief asks for mercy, when he pleads to be remembered kindly by Christ, the King replies with regal majesty: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”

This past week, I and the members of St. Luke’s Church have dealt with an amazing wave of anger and bitterness from two neighbors there in Westville who object to the presence of homeless men in the Parish House. After listening to all of their threats and shouting, it seems that one of their primary arguments is that criminals cannot be trusted. That people who steal to support their bad habits will do so again. These neighbors have been robbed in the past and they are dreadfully afraid of this happening again. “You cannot change these people! You cannot trust these people!” they shouted in our face on Thursday night, at St. Luke’s Vestry meeting.

It’s funny how God works, because at the same time, while dealing with this conflict, I have been meditating on this reading from the Gospel of Luke. Jesus, the King, is on his throne of irony – the cross. And who is there present on his right and his left? Two criminals, two thieves. One proud and stubborn, bitter and angry. One remorseful and humble, sorrowful and honest.

Do you think that a criminal, a thief, can be changed? What does Jesus think? Which voice will you heed, the voice of hope and faith, or the voice of fear and despair?

The truth has spoken and the truth is this: no one is beyond the reach of God’s mercy and grace. The King does what he wills, and even if it bewilders those in the world who see only in black-in-white, this Messiah offers forgiveness and a chance to start again to all those who will come to him in confidence and trust.

It is not hard to do, except for the proud who are certain that they are better than “those people,” who believe that they are the good ones, who feel no need for help.

Dwight Moody (1837 – 1899) told the story of a young soldier in the Union army during the Civil War who was court-martialed and sentenced to be shot. This young fellow had voluntarily enlisted, and he agreed to go and serve the Union along with his best friend. They were close friends, and so, one night when his friend was ordered to go out and take the night watch, his friend asked him if he would be willing to serve in his place. He did this, but it just so happened that the very next night, he himself was ordered to take the night watch. And since he had now been awake for the second straight night, and since this young man was not yet used to it, he was found asleep at his post. President Abraham Lincoln had just issued an order that no interference would be allowed in cases of this kind, since this kind of lack of discipline had become all too common in the Army. Therefore, this young man was court-martialed and sentenced to face the firing squad.

When the news reached this man’s father and mother up in Vermont, they were devastated as this was their only son and he had recently enlisted with such enthusiasm. But they knew that there was nothing that could be done. The President had spoken. However, they also had a young daughter who had read the biography of President Lincoln. She knew how much he loved his own children. So she made up her determined little mind to do something. She told herself, “If Abraham Lincoln knew how my father and mother loved my brother, he would not let him be shot.” Somehow, she got herself down to the White House. And when the Guards saw this young girl’s determined yet imploring looks, they were unable to refuse her a visit with Mr. Lincoln. When she entered the room, she found the President there with his generals and counselors, and when he saw her, he asked what is was that she wanted. She told him the whole story: how much her parents loved their brother, how he had been sentenced to be shot, and how much they were mourning for him and how, if the execution took place, it would entirely break their hearts. Mr. Lincoln’s own heart was touched with compassion, and he immediately sent a dispatch cancelling the young man’s sentence and granting him a parole so that he could go home and visit his parents in Vermont.

The closest thing that we have to a King in our land is the President, the executive officer whose power is balanced by our other branches of government. Now consider this parallel: if Abraham Lincoln, a wise yet deeply flawed human being, was able to show such compassion for the sorrow of this one family, in violation of his own recent order, how much more mercy and grace and love can we expect from Christ the King, the compassionate, the merciful One? How much grace he gives to anyone who comes to him and asks for help! Even to criminals, to thieves. Even to people like you and me. This, my friends, is the only kind of King to whose authority I can gladly and joyfully submit. Amen.