Tongues as of Fire
By Carol Braun
Back in the early days of the Covid pandemic, I started doing at-home Bible studies with my sons. Our Sunday school lessons for the Day of Pentecost have always been the easiest to put together.
The Pentecost story in Acts is high drama, packed with imagery that grabs the attention: the whoosh of a giant wind, the hovering tongues of flame, the jabber of languages, the pouring out of God’s Spirit like water upon all flesh.
I have adorable pictures of my boys in diadems—made of paper flames threaded through pipe-cleaner circlets—marching around our backyard and glowing with joy. They eagerly acted out that day when the Holy Spirit made its appearance among the apostles and got the Church going in the world.
Those lessons for Pentecost are also favorites of mine because, viscerally, I feel us participating in the story—here, now, today—as we read and discuss it. As a layperson, I went many years without putting my trust-in-Christ into spoken words outside the walls of a church building. (Even within the walls of the church, my speaking was highly structured, mostly limited to liturgy and occasional comments in class.)
Carol Braun with her sons Solomon and Teddy. A graduate of Christ College (Valparaiso University) and Northwestern University, where she earned a PhD in Physics, Dr. Braun teaches high school. For Crossings, Carol serves as a co-editor of Thursday Theology and moderator for the monthly Table Talk forum.
When the time came to speak with my own children about my faith, I felt tongue-tied. Even now, five years into these conversations with my sons, I’m sometimes hit with a thrill of worry as we sit down to talk.Will I have good answers to their questions? Will all of this sound wacky to them? Have I really thought it all through clearly enough to put into words?
But when my boys and I get into the lessons for Pentecost, I feel the answer blow into me with the gust of that mighty wind: Don’t let your heart be troubled, says Jesus. He didn’t leave his followers orphaned and alone. He sent them a Helper, the Holy Spirit, to pour down on them—on us. To fill us up, to remind us of what Jesus said and did, and to fire up our tongues to communicate the salvation we have through him.
And if it doesn’t go perfectly? Don’t let your heart be troubled. You know on whom to call for help.
As I prepared a lesson on the Pentecost story for the vacation Bible school I led for my parish last summer, Acts 2 verse 6 snagged my attention: “At this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each.”
I know what it’s like to have the Gospel proclaimed to me in my native language, so to speak, and what it’s like to go through a dry spell without that gift.
When my boys and I sit and talk—openly, often uncertainly, but without fear—about what God has done for us in Christ, we’re speaking and hearing about “God’s deeds of power” (Acts 6: 11) for us, each in our own native, homegrown language.
At two of our recent Crossings Table Talks, a couple different pastors commented that the old Sunday school song gets it wrong. It’s not “Jesus loves me. This I know, for the Bible tells me so,” but rather “Jesus loves me. This I know, for my Mommy tells me so.” In other words, our hearts grasp onto the promise of God’s love for us in Christ when we hear that promise from people with whom we’re in close and loving conversation.
Pentecost is a reminder that the Holy Spirit is poured out on each of us, God’s children, to enliven our hearts and our tongues and our minds to keep coming back again and again to those conversations, to experience God’s love for us in our love for each other, and to grasp onto that promise anew each time we put it into each other’s ears.
“… the crowd gathered and was bewildered … each one heard them speaking in the native language of each.”
Christian Nationalism: A Time for Confessing?
By the Rev. Paul G. Theiss
Years ago, while I was pastoring in a small town in the Sierra Nevada, the white supremacist Christian Identity movement, a form of Christian Nationalism, organized to take over our community. Their Jesus was not a Jew; their People of God was the Aryan race; their coming of the Kingdom was an apocalyptic race war in America.
Local elected leaders were intimidated into silence. The population was cowed. Jewish families prepared to leave. Then the town’s Ministerial Fellowship, mostly fundamentalist preachers, published a simple two-column manifesto in the weekly paper. One column listed the Christian Identity claims noted in the paragraph above. The other column refuted those claims from Scripture, with the following:
- We are made right with God by grace, through faith, not by works of the law.
- All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.
- Jesus sends his followers to make disciples of all nations.
- Jesus and his first followers were Torah-observant Jews.
Every pastor signed on, although several had strong elements of Christian Identity within their memberships. The Christian churches spoke with one voice. The weekly newspaper, which was the main source of local news, printed the pastors’ manifesto in full. Then, local officials felt it was safe to speak. People breathed sighs of relief, as though the clear mountain air had lifted a miasma of fear. Christian Identity packed up and moved to Idaho.
The pastors’ strength was their solidarity in the Gospel, even if it meant taking risks with their own congregations.
Since then, white Christian Nationalism has moved firmly into the public square.
Today, Christian Nationalists occupy positions in town councils, school and library boards, state legislatures, and our national government. I wonder how many of the pastors who signed the manifesto years ago would dare to do so today.
Christian Nationalism denies the power of sin within its movement, claiming that its nation, political party, and leader are divinely empowered to bring God’s Reign to earth. Its twisted theology proclaims that those who oppose its party and its leader are enemies of God. Christian Nationalism flees the reach and depth of the law’s accusation and promotes a false gospel of legalism.
Christian Nationalism secularizes the Church by fusing it with the Party and the State. It attacks the Church’s worldwide mission of sharing the Gospel in word and action, in season and out of season.
In 2019, Christian leaders produced a statement against Christian Nationalism. (See the statement at christiansagainstchristiannationalism.org.) I signed it, believing that it’s fine as far as it goes. But it doesn’t go far enough. There is no mention of God’s saving action in Christ, no evoking Jesus’ inclusive ministry, no First Commandment, no scandal of the cross. There is no indictment of Christian Nationalism as idolatry and rebellion against God.
The 2019 statement can be read as a plea for pluralism and tolerance, rather than a confession of Christ’s love for all people and the church’s willingness to suffer under tyranny.
Is this a time for confessing? In his book of that title (Eerdmans, 2008) Bob Bertram said that the church confesses its faith not only for itself but for others who are oppressed by unjust authority. My experience at Seminex and in a mountain hamlet convinced me of the power of the Gospel at times of crisis.
I believe the Crossings Community is uniquely gifted to speak to this moment. We are grounded in the Scriptures, interpreted through the Reformation Confessions. The Church’s calling is to share the Gospel. We grew out of a time of testing in the Church. We can act with purpose, speaking clearly to non-seminary-trained Christians like my friends in the mountains, and enlisting their support.
At our January 2025 conference in St. Louis, the Crossings organizers graciously made room for a breakout discussion on Christian Nationalism. Almost a third of the attendees showed up for that discussion.
Since then, a group of us continue to work on a confession of faith for this moment in time. Two participants in our group, Steven Kuhl and Michael Hoy, led the March Table Talk, “Preaching and Teaching the Gospel in a Politically Polarized Society.” You can find the video of the March Table Talk at crossings.org/table-talk. Scroll down to the archives section.
Soon, we hope to circulate a statement for your consideration and signing. Anyone interested in learning more or taking part in this effort may contact me through info@crossings.org.
The pastors’ strength was their solidarity in the Gospel, even if it meant taking risks with their own congregations.
Paul Theiss served as pastor of parishes in California, Nevada, and Arkansas. He has written articles for Thursday Theology and for the weekly Crossings text studies.
2026 Crossings Conference • January 11–14
The annual Crossings Conference will once again take place at the Pallottine Retreat Center. Located 20 minutes from the St. Louis airport, the retreat center features extensive walking and hiking trails, an indoor gym and swimming pool, and a beautiful chapel.
Entrance of the Pallottine Retreat and Conference Center
The theme for 2026 conference is “In Christ for Good: the Gospel and Christian Behavior.”
The four-day event will include a number of seminar-style presentations and workshops.
Online participation—with virtual discussion opportunities—will be available.
For information and registration, visit crossings.org/conference.
Join Us Online for…
- Table Talk, the monthly online discussion forum
- The Crossings Book Club every other week
- Lectionary text studies posted every Sunday
- Thursday Theology with essays, sermons, and other thought-provoking writing
To learn more and sign up, visit crossings.org/join-us
Crossings Newsletter Staff:
Writer/Editor: Bruce Modahl
Executive Secretary: Cathy Lessmann
Executive Director: Sherman Lee
Project and Development Manager: Bethany Dreher
1 comment
Perhaps the title of the conference could be “The Gospel and Human Behavior” though I bet the issue of behavior being a Christian type of behavior might get conversation started. Behavior and human behavior is “done” under God’s law so Christ’s cross has a lot to say here. But of course Crossings-ers know the pitfalls and challenges this topic affords. As Ed Schroeder used to sign off:
Cheers!