First Christian Church of Norman Worship Podcast

A Mission of Radical Dependence

Episode Summary

Morning Prayer: Shannon Cook Choral Amen Hymn of Renewal *Wind Who Makes All Winds That Blow* Witness of Scripture: Acts 2: 1-21 Anthem *Come Down, O Love Divine* W.H. Harris. Chancel Choir Sermon *A Mission of Radical Dependence* Steve Graham

Episode Notes

Recorded on June 8, 2025

Episode Transcription

A Mission of Radical Dependence A Mission of Radical Dependence

A Celebration of the Good News with the Beloved Community,

First Christian Church, Norman, Oklahoma

Rev. Dr. Stephen Graham

June 8, 2025

Acts 2:1–21

The late General Omar Bradley decided to wear a business suit instead of military attire on a public flight. It would make the trip simpler to be considered a businessperson traveling home.

After boarding the flight, he settled in and began to work on some papers. A young Army private started a conversation: “Sir, since we’re going to be traveling together, I think it would be nice if we got to know one another. I take it you’re a banker in the city.”

Seeing no way to get around it, General Bradley replied honestly, “No, I’m not a banker. I happen to be General Omar Bradley, a five-star general in the United States Army, and head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff at the Pentagon.” And do you know what the young man had to say to that? “Wow, that sounds like a very significent job, sir. I certainly hope you don’t blow it!”

Luke’s account in Acts makes it clear that each one of us is given a very important role to fulfill. Those who enter the waters of baptism are reminded

they are called to serve. We do not serve to be saved; we serve because we have been saved. On the day of Pentecost, seven weeks had gone by since Jesus had been crucified at Golgotha. The disciples and women remained together, praying and following wherever the promised Spirit would lead them. Before his departure, Jesus entrusted his ministry to them.

Twelve were gathered in one place when a sound like the rushing of a violent wind filled the entire house. Then, like wildfire, the Holy Spirit touched them all. They were so filled with the Spirit that each person heard them speaking in his or her language. Some accused them of being filled with wine. But Peter stood and proclaimed this was the fulfillment of Joel’s prophecy: “I will pour out my Spirit on everyone” (Acts 2:17).

Pentecost still calls to us. The Spirit is not finished. What was entrusted to them is now entrusted to us. “You shall be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8). We are each given an essential job to do.

Ours is a mission of dynamic process. The keyword of the Kingdom is “Go!” The rule of God is never stagnant. “Go, therefore,” is best interpreted as “As you are going.” We are on the move. Our relationship with God invites us to live in rhythm with the divine, shifting and responding to the Spirit’s movement. Originally, God's people—the nomadic Hebrews—worshiped in a tent, not a temple of stone, but a tabernacle that could be folded up and moved. God resides with us in motion. As we gather to partake of the bread and the cup, let it remind us: we are on pilgrimage with a dynamic God. May our trust in God transform our anxiety into eagerness, excitement.

A stupid story. On the one lone curve in the highway between Henessee and Enid, Gold Spot Milk used to have a lighted billboard of a milk cow looking back at the cars rounding the curve. The cow’s thoughts are then quoted to

be, “I’m anxious to give Gold Spot Milk.” Now you may be thinking that ain’t nothing, that’s something, but I want to disagree. Who wants to buy the milk given by an anxious cow. So as a junior in high school, I wrote to the President of the company suggesting that a better word choice might be, “I’m eager to give Gold Spot Milk!”

“I will pour out upon everyone a portion of my Spirit” (v. 17a). The promise longs to run its course in you, in me, in us—just as it did on that Pentecost day when the anxious disciples became empowered by the Spirit.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, the Russian writer and dissident, endured grueling imprisonment for his criticism of the Soviet regime. Sentenced to hard labor and diagnosed with terminal cancer, he was forlorn and about to give up hope, dropped his shovel, and collapsed. It was then that he noticed an old man beside him—someone he had never seen before and would never see again. The man silently drew a cross in the dirt with a stick. That one gesture renewed Solzhenitsyn’s spirit and gave him the will to live. That anonymous man had borne witness to the power they shared

What would have happened had he not sketched that cross? Ours is a mission in motion. We are God’s witnesses to those we encounter. The Spirit is still being poured out.

Ours is a mission of prophetic confrontation. We do not come to Christ to have our prejudices affirmed or our biases confirmed. Quite the opposite. The Spirit brings holy disruption—a reordering of reality. History is flipped on its head. When we meet the living Christ, we are summoned to speak and act. “Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy…” (v. 17b). We are empowered to stand up to cultural forces that dehumanize or harm.

Flannery O’Connor once said, “You have to draw big pictures for a near-blind generation.” That’s the prophetic mission: speaking on behalf of all God’s children. We have been given this moment, this sacred challenge, this adventure of faith. It may stir anxiety—but that is a small price to pay for the excitement of journeying with God.

Ours is a mission of radical dependence. “…Your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams…” (v. 17c). Visions and dreams remind us: we are not the source of our strength. We are contingent beings, dependent on something—and Someone—greater.

Our mission aligns with the story of the widow who encountered the prophet Elijah when she had little to spare. She was gathering sticks to prepare a final meal for herself and her son, knowing that they were on the brink of starvation. When Elijah asked her for food, it seemed an impossible request given her dire circumstances. Yet, her willingness to share what she had became a profound act of faith. In her radical dependence on God, she found that there was enough, and her jar of flour and jug of oil did not run dry (1 Kings 17:8-16). God alone is the non-contingent One. Recognizing this dependence is the beginning of wisdom.

Come to this table. We cannot live without God’s sustenance. We gather together because we need the loving presence of one another. We go not alone, but two-by-two, in duet and chorus. Jesus knew we would need each other on this journey. The widow found provision not just for herself but for another when she responded with faith to God’s call.

When the Spirit of the living God falls fresh upon us, we are certainly less likely to blow it.