When the Day of Pentecost comes in Acts 2 it is a BIG EVENT. In my mind, the old city of Jerusalem must have trembled as the Holy Spirit came upon the first followers of Jesus. There was wind. And fire. And languages (spoken by believers who previously did not know that language). People were asking questions. People were suspicious. It was big. Peter brings clarity by quoting the Prophet Joel. Anyway you describe it, it was a big, over-the-top, powerful, earth-shattering day.
I often hear people still talking about God in this way. “God appeared to me in a dream…”. “I heard…and I knew it was God…”. One of the most devout Christians I have ever known (who is now with the Lord) told me that after his wife died that he had a vision of Jesus in his living room, and that visible moment brought him peace until the end of his life. These events, these spiritual moments are big, and moving, and life-shifting. And often I find myself a little jealous that I don’t have them. If I let my mind run a little unchecked, I can also start to feel a little “less than” as a Christian because what I have is much more modest.
But what I do get is glimpses. I get these moments, however brief, in which I know that God is present, and moving, and that something holy is happening that I can’t fully explain.
A few weeks ago, our pianist, Sandra Parker, played the prelude in worship. I don’t remember the piece she played, but it was somewhat quiet, and was in a “gospel style” that I was raised on. There was a moment during that piece, that I sensed the breath escaping my lungs, and with that escaping air also left the tension and anxiety that I was carrying. It was so real that I wondered if anyone in worship noticed it. It didn’t look like Acts 2, and it wasn’t a “vision,” but it was a glimpse. And for the rest of the morning, I was different.
Ewell Flippo’s mother passed away on Saturday. Mary Flippo was and is a dear saint, a child of God, and she has entered her rest and reward with our Savior. Many times, at the passing of a close family member, people will take a couple of weeks “off” from church, a time to allow their emotions to become a little less raw. But Ewell was in worship yesterday, along with his family, and he prayed the offertory prayer. As he stepped behind the pulpit and prayed, I had a glimpse. I knew that his presence in worship, the day after his mother died, had everything to do with his faith, a faith that was passed down from his mother (and father). It was powerful, it was grace-filled and faith-filled. It was a glimpse of something Holy.
A glimpse can seem like a small thing, until we realize that a holy glimpse, for the Christian, is from God. And God gives us what we need. What God gives us, however brief these glimpses are, is enough. I’d love to feel foundations shake, and feel hurricane force wind and feel the burning warmth of “flaming tongues of fire.” But a glimpse of the Holy, these gifts of God, are enough. For glimpses, however brief, I am thankful.