Pentecost People of Blessing

We live in a world thirsty for grace, hungry for any hint of blessing.

But what we find, too often, is judgment: not fast enough, not smart enough, not thin enough, not “good” enough.

Jesus said: 

“I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” (Matthew 5) 

On Pentecost, God’s grace rained down on the waiting disciples, then poured through them to the city around them:

“The apostles performed many signs and wonders among the people. . . .More and more men and women believed in the Lord and were added to their number.  As a result, people brought the sick into the streets and laid them on beds and mats so that at least Peter’s shadow might fall on some of them as he passed by.  Crowds gathered also from the towns around Jerusalem, bringing their sick and those tormented by impure spirits, and all of them were healed.” (Acts 5) 

That is far outside most of our experience, yet there are times and places where grace bubbles up, rains down, flows like living water through thirsty crowds. Some of us shrug, explain it away, fine-tune  theologies that justify our unbelief.

Others of us pray, with the prophet Habakkuk: 

Lord, I have heard of your fame;

I stand in awe or your deeds, Lord.

Repeat them in our day,

In our time make them known

Habakkuk 3

I have written about praying for a young woman named Emily, struck by lightening almost five years ago. A fellow Synchroblogger from the UK, Chris Jefferies of Journeys of the Heart and Mind, recently contacted me to say he’d been reading my posts about Emily and prayer and felt God prompting him to send me a book: The Grace Outpouring, Becoming a People of Blessing.

The title alone was enough to capture my interest. How do we become a people of blessing?

But I was also drawn by the sense of God weaving bits of his church together. Chris is part of a fellowship of Christians in Cambridgeshire, England. The book tells of God’s work at Ffald-y-Brenin, a retreat center in south-west Wales.  My own little group gathering to seek God’s healing now includes a friend from Albania, a lovely woman of faith from Jamaica, a missionary’s daughter born in Korea. Our backgrounds are all different. Our longing to know God more deeply is the same.

To me, one sign of God at work is the breaking down of boundaries, the weaving together of people from different places, different experiences. At Pentecost, the boundary of language was broken down:

“Parthians, Medes and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome (both Jews and converts to Judaism); Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!” (Acts 2)

But Pentecost was about more than breaking down of boundaries. God’s people, empowered by the Holy Spirit, began to do what Jesus had promised: 

“Whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.”(John 14:12) 

The Grace Outpouring is the simple story of how that promise is taking shape in one small corner of the world. Roy and Daphne Godwin stepped into leadership of a remote retreat center and began to explore what it means to be agents of blessing. 

“The measure we use toward others will be the measure that he uses toward us. As we forgive we will be forgiven (Matthew 6:14-15). As we bless we will be blessed (Genesis 12:3). In Luke 10, the disciples were instructed to declare the peace of God over the towns they entered. For us today, that means asking God to manifest his character in the communities we live in. As we pray using the revealed names of God, he will come and show his beauty, mercy and compassion.” (36)

 Roy Godwin, with coauthor David Roberts, talks about the way Christians sometimes think we’re called to pronounce judgment rather than blessing: 

"I had already begun to question a culture of faith that places a high value on correcting strangers. . . . Having a heart to bless will challenge the judgmental mid-set that can color how we look at those we live with and among. We can become a “grace first” people. . .

"If we will let the wisdom of God inhabit our thinking, a consistent “grace first” pattern will emerge in our actions and words. “Grace first” prayer for healing doesn’t search for wrongdoing in a person’s life that needs correcting as a prelude to a miracle. There doesn’t seem to be much evidence for that approach in the ministry of Jesus. We simply ask that the power of God should touch that life.” 

Godwin describes the ways he and others have seen God’s blessings at work: miraculous healing of physical and mental illness, sudden insight into spiritual things, unexpected unity, restoration of relationships, conviction of sin, deep experience of forgiveness. The stories are told simply; a statement at the start of the book explains:

“God is too great to need our exaggeration. This book contains many testimonies as spoken to us by guests at various times. We want to be as accurate as possible. If the reader is aware of any error, please let us know so that we many correct it in future editions.”

 Some of the stories from the book are excerpted, and indexed, on Chris Jeffries’ Journey’s of the Heart and Mind. More recent stories are gathered at Kingdom Vision UK. 

"Coming before the cross at Ffald-y-Brenin"

These stories resonate deeply with what I’ve seen of the way God works: bringing to light deep hurts no one else could touch, meeting doubts, anger, and grief with his own great love. Revealing truth through dreams. Speaking directly – sometimes in an audible voice – to those who doubt his presence.  Restoring damaged joints, healing mysterious, debilitating illness.

Reflecting on the healing seen at Ffald-y-Brenin, and beyond, Godwin concludes: 

“It seems clear to me that it’s impossible biblically to separate the good news of the kingdom from healing, because if you actually read the accounts of the Gospels and Acts, they flow together, so that when mercy flows out to us it is not just to help us find forgiveness, but it’s also to do with all that we are. This unstoppable stream, this river, this flood that is released upon us touches every part of our lives. . . 

"When Jesus came into a community, it was good news for those who were open to welcome him. Although they were amazed by his words and teaching and dazzled by the miracles, it was the outflow of his life that was such good news for them. . . . He reached out to the sick and healed them, opened blind eyes, restored deaf ears, lifted the weight of condemnation off the guilty and prompted them to live a different way in the future.

"All this, he taught, was a sign that the kingdom of God had come upon them. His healing miracles were not an incidental happening while he got on with the real business of preaching the gospel. He was the gospel. It was the overflow of his presence empowered by the Holy Spirit that was the breaking in of the kingdom.

"When jesus commissioned the disciples, it was with the instruction to mirror his own ministry. They were to heal the sick, release the oppressed, and declare that the kingdom of God was close. God cares for the whole person, and the gospel, the good news, is for the whole person.”(13) 

To all that, I say “yes,” while I wonder: why does healing come so freely in some places, and so rarely in others? How do we continue to pray when it seems like nothing changes?

I’ll be back to this topic next week. There’s more to process, and much more to learn.

In the meantime: 

“A kingdom worldview says that mercy and grace come first. .. 

"What might the song of the redemptive community we aspire to be sound like? Perhaps these words go some way toward capturing its essence: 

We welcome all who come here.
We greet all that we meet.
May we be as warm and open as Jesus was,
With a heart for the last, the lost, and the least.
We don’t want to look away
Or sweep anybody under the carpet.
With God’s help we will not diminish anybody.
We will be the voices of mercy,
Blessing all with the love of God
In the wonderufl name of Jesus. 

"So how do you make this vision a reality in the streets and buildings around you?

Your comments, reflections, questions are welcome! 

Other recent posts on prayer:

Does Prayer “Work”? May 5, 2013
Like a Motherless Child, May 12, 2013 

Other posts on Pentecost:

Resurrection Power: A Prayer for Pentecost  May 27, 2012
Waiting for Pentecost June 5, 2011
An Altogether Different Language June 26, 2011

Resurrection Power: A Prayer for Pentecost

Pentecost, El Greco, 1600, Madrid

Today in our church we’ll celebrate Pentecost with a reading from Acts 2 in as many languages as we can muster: French, Spanish, German, Mandarin, Greek, maybe an African dialect or two. We’ll have a big birthday cake, reminding us and our kids that Pentecost is the birthday of the church. And we’ll pause to wonder, at least some of us will, why the power displayed at Pentecost shows up so rarely in our corporate gatherings.

At least we celebrate. The church of my childhood never mentioned Pentecost at all.

Reflecting these past few weeks on the implications of the resurrection, it’s occurred to me that the full power of the resurrection wasn’t revealed until the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. In his last extended conversation with his friends, described in John 14-16, Jesus made some stunning promises: They would do what he had been doing. They would be able to pray with new authority and expectation. They would be partners in the work of demonstrating God’s glory – through healing miracles, proclamation, teaching. They would experience God’s joy in a new way.

These things would happen through the agency of “the advocate,” or paraklete, the Spirit of truth, as a demonstration of love, God’s love for his people, their love for him and each other, and in the context of unity, the unity of Christ’s followers with him, with his Spirit, with each other.

Fifty days later, on Pentecost morning, those promises came true in a rush of wind, mysterious flames of fire, and a sudden burst of understanding and courage. The followers who had been hiding out, waiting, wondering, unsure of the next step, were suddenly speaking with passion and power in languages they didn’t know, in a public space where anyone could hear them.

Were they drunk? Crazy? Superstitious weirdos?

Peter, the same Peter who denied Jesus three times and put his foot in his mouth every time he opened it, explained the situation with the clarity and courage that were themselves demonstrations of the Holy Spirit’s presence:

“Fellow Jews and all of you who live in Jerusalem, let me explain this to you; listen carefully to what I say. These people are not drunk, as you suppose. It’s only nine in the morning! No, this is what was spoken by the prophet Joel: 

Pentecost, Keiko Muira, stained glass, Seattle

“‘In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams.Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days, and they will prophesy."

The next chapters of Acts describe a radical change in the people involved, and a new vision of what it means to walk with God and his people. Miraculous healings, unprecedented provision for human need, impassioned historical, spiritual discussion by unprepared fishermen, and a sense of love, unrestrained love, sweeping through the community, drawing men and women in ever growing numbers into a new way of life.

Did it happen?

The fact that the Christian church appeared, in force, on scattered continents within a few centuries of the Acts of the Apostles argues for the truth of Luke’s narrative. So do the consistent reports from early historians, who recorded the way Christians cared for the sick, fed widows and orphans, befriended outsiders, offered new rights and protections to women and slaves. No other religion had insisted on love as the basis of human interaction; no other religion had extended care so insistently to those who didn’t already share the same faith. The love of the early Christians was winsome, noteworthy, and contagious.

I grew up in a tradition that believed, completely, in the work of the Spirit in the book of Acts, and believed, as completely, that such things no longer happen. Yet any unbiased reading of historical record will yield extensive evidence of the Holy Spirit at work, motivating public repentance for wrongs done others, courageous care for the sick, extravagant acts of generosity, supernatural healing, unexplained provision, dissolving of barriers between races, classes, genders.

In A.D. 185 Irenaeus wrote about the continued visible work of the Holy Spirit:

"Some drive out demons really and truly, so that often those cleansed from evil spirits believe and become members of the Church; some have foreknowledge of the future, visions, and prophetic utterances; others, by the laying-on of hands, heal the sick and restore them to health; and before now, as I said, dead men have actually been raised and have remained with us for many years. In fact, it is impossible to enumerate the gifts which throughout the world the Church has received from God and in the name of Jesus Christ . . . "

Augustine of Hippo (354- 430 AD) originally taught that miracles had been unique to the age of the early apostles. He changed his mind near the end of his life, as he encountered miraculous healing and financial provision. As bishop of Hippo in North Africa, he recorded in his City of God the many miracles he himself witnessed, as well as reports from reliable witnesses.

The Venerable Bede, (672/673 - 735), considered the most reliable historian of the Anglo-Saxon period,  Bernard of Clairvaux,  Hildegard of Bingen, Francis of Assisi, Anthony of Padua,, Clare of Montefalco,, Bridget of Sweden, Vincent Ferrer, Martin Luther and John Wesley are a just a few of the Christian leaders across the centuries who recorded miracles observed as they sought to follow Christ's call to be like him, to do the things he did.

Peter Heals the Lame Beggar, Gustave Doré, 1865, France

A recent Christianity Today cover story, Tim Stafford’s Miracles in Mozambique: How Mama Heidi Reaches the Abandoned describes the work of Heidi and Rolland Baker, Americans who have lived since 1995 among the poor of Mozambique. They began by caring for a handful of orphans, but their work quickly spread to include miracles that bring to mind the first chapters of Acts: thousands of healings, outrageous generosity, an explosion of faith. The Bakers have been involved in training leaders for 7,000 churches, oversee a national Bible College and now provide for over 5,000 children at their centers.

Do I believe it?  A study published in the Southern Medical Journal offers documentation of some of the cases where deaf individuals, prayed for by the Bakers and pastors they’ve trained,  have become able to hear, and where the blind have received improved vision. The work in Mozambique is also discussed in Craig Keener’s scholarly, carefully researched two volume work Miracles: The Credibility of the New Testament Accounts  (2011),

But my reasons for believing are more personal, as is the case for the other “hundreds of millions of people” Keener suggests have experienced and witnessed miracles: I’ve experienced the power of the Holy Spirit myself, in emotional healing, in surprising words of wisdom, in sudden courage to step into difficult situations. And I’ve seen that power at work in others: in sudden gifts of faith, physical and emotional healing, needs met in ways far beyond coincidence, spiritual growth beyond what circumstances would warrant.

Yet, I sometimes feel that I live in a spiritually dead zone. I picture God’s people, in the places where I travel, standing with crossed arms, clenched fists, closed hearts, almost daring God to intervene. Heidi Baker has noted that God has healed almost every deaf person she and colleagues have encountered in Mozambique. In the US? Not so much. Are we too busy explaining away the Holy Spirit’s work? Are we lacking in faith?

Or are we lacking in love? The work in Mozambique is driven by love: love for the poor, the orphans, the physically broken. Heidi Baker, in almost every interview or article, says “Love looks like something.” She believes that love demands practical, physical demonstration: feeding the hungry, healing the sick. She insists that any follower of Christ needs to “stop for the one,” needs to look intently at the needs of individuals, and ask God for the power to meet those needs.

untitled, Anna Kocher, 2000

That’s a costly form of love. A risky form of faith.

Do we dare open our arms to embrace it?

It reminds me of Peter and John, who stopped to look intently at the paralyzed man on the steps of the temple, offered him healing, then were jailed and threatened for sharing their faith and upending the status quo.

Noting the threats, aware of the cost, still they chose to pray for a fuller experience of Pentecostal power:

"Enable your servants to speak your word with great boldness.  Stretch out your hand to heal and perform signs and wonders through the name of your holy servant Jesus."

To that prayer, I add my own: "Help us love in the way you love. Make us willing to hear, receive, obey the call to be like you. And give us the power we need to do that."



This is the last in a series about the resurrection:

Risen Indeed: The Hermaneutic Community 
The Great Reversal: A Resurrection People 
Earth Day Shalom: Ripples of Resurrection  
Resurrection Challenge: Feed My Sheep
Resurrection Laughter 

Resurrection Women: Happy Mother's Day

          Reconciling Righteousness 

Other posts about Pentecost
         Waiting for Pentecost
         An Altogether Different Language

As always, your thoughts and comments are welcome. Click on the ___comments link below to see comments and to post your own.