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The Editor writes...
'Oh, no!' I cried, as I tried in vain to stop my favourite coffee mug from falling from my hand during the washing up. Our kitchen floor is hard and unforgiving, and seconds later my mug was smashed into countless pieces.
Faintly ridiculous though it is to get upset about a broken mug, I felt sad. I had first bought that mug when I was at university, simply because I liked the shape, and it had been with me through graduation, my first job, when I got married, surviving a number of moves and packing and unpacking numerous times. It was familiar to me.
We unearthed a beautiful mug from the cupboard that had scarcely been used, and which I am ashamed to say I had never really looked closely at before. We had had it some time, but rather than using it I had stuck with my old faithful instead.
Musing on mugs (I know, I need to get out more) I wondered if I am the same about aspects of my faith. Do I stick with the familiar routine I am happy with, attending the same types of church service, mixing with the people who have roughly the same beliefs as I do, reading the same kinds of books and articles as I usually do?
What if I am missing out by not trying new forms of worship? What if God is waiting to bless me through meeting new people with radically different views from mine? And as for reading, there are hundreds of writers who might have something new to say to me about my faith, even if it does not make comfortable reading.
Sticking with the familiar might be more appealing, but God has other ideas he longs to share with us: 'See,' he says, 'I am making all things new' (Revelation 21:5). Life lived in God will always include unexpected blessings of grace.
Susan Hibbins
Editor of the UK edition
Enabled by the Spirit
Acts 2:1 - 8
When we read the Pentecost story, we're struck by its power, but also by its mystery: the winds, the tongues of fire, the multitude of languages. How could they all be understood?
Last year, we began gathering our Upper Room ministry staff and volunteer editors around the globe into regional 'family reunions'. The first event, in Sao Paolo, Brazil, drew together our Upper Room and Emmaus/Chrysalis leadership from the Caribbean and Latin America. For four days, 32 of us assembled in a retreat centre for fellowship, learning, sharing and worship in English, Spanish and Portuguese.
At times we had translators, but primarily we relied on our own limited second-language skills and hand gestures to help us communicate with one another. It was exhausting and exhilarating. Even under these limitations, the work was moving forward.
The greatest gift of our time together came after closing worship and Holy Communion. We sang the final hymn, and we heard the benediction. Then someone began to quietly hum, reprising the final hymn. Softly, another began to sing the words in his native language, then another and another, then all. Though the words on our lips were in Spanish, Portuguese and English, we sang with one voice, and we could feel the fire of Pentecost move through the chapel. Neither culture, nor nationality, nor even our foreign tongues could separate us.
The crowd that witnessed the flames of Pentecost asked: 'How is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language?' (Acts 2:8, NRSV). The answer then was the same as it is today. The Holy Spirit has the power to unite us in one voice as we carry the singular message of Christ's salvation into the world.
Sarah Wilke
Publisher