It's All in Translation

2026-05-24 Ac 02 01-21 It’s All In Translation

The week after next, Kristen and I will celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary by taking a trip to Iceland.

I tell people and they say, 

“Iceland.” 

“Why?”

Because I’ve always wanted to go and because my wife loves me.

To me, Iceland looks and sounds like another planet. 

Active volcanoes. 

Black sand beaches. 

Whales. 

Those adorable little puffins. 

Reindeer. 

Isolated fishing villages with peaceful folk eating fermented shark. 

And the language. 

So many umlauts and vowels smooshed together. 

Good news for us – they also speak a fair amount of English. 

Just like Alabama.

But to be safe, I’m updating my Google Translate app.

Did you ever notice how the very first, I mean the VERY first gift of the Holy Spirit to the young church is the gift of translation? 

Suddenly the disciples can speak ALL the languages. 

The Bible lists them all. 

In painful detail.

Very painful if you’re the Liturgist on Pentecost.

I always apologize to the Pentecost Liturgists. 

For making them say Parthians, Medes, Elamites, Mesopotamians, Cappadocians, Phrygia and Pamphylia. 

Couldn’t the Bible have just said, 

“And all them other foreigners?” 

The suddenly multilingual apostles drew a crowd. 

People looked at them like they were from another planet. 

By a miracle they’d become instant, universal translators. 

Translators. 

Translation IS a gift from God.

If it weren’t for translators, there wouldn’t be a Christianity.

If not for translators, we wouldn’t have a Bible. 

All the Bible was composed in Hebrew and in Greek. 

We think the King James is hard to understand. 

At least it’s English. 

Sort of.

Centuries before, Moses, on the mountaintop, was God’s Number One interpreter. 

Moses was the original middle-man, speaking to the Israelites what God had spoken to him. 

He translated it – into kinder, gentler, less-deadly language.

They said to Moses, “You speak to us, and we will listen, but do not let God speak to us, lest we die.”

Without translation, words are just noise. 

Dangerous.

WITH translation, words have power to change the world. 

Power to unite us. 

Power to speak peace. 

Power to share love. 

Words can be poetry. 

Words can touch hearts. 

We use words to share the goodness of God with sisters and brothers all around the world.

But even with translation, language is a dangerous technology.

Words can be kind. 

Words can be safe. 

But words can also incite the very worst violence.

Words can be hateful.

Words can be mean.

Words can be ugly.

Yes, words can save.

But also, words can kill. 

So maybe God knew what was at stake on Pentecost Sunday when unleashing the infinitely powerful Spirit of Holy into the world.

It only takes a spark to get a fire going, right?

But the flames – the blast of hot air from our mouths can also explode – with nuclear force. 

How has the Word of God been translated in YOUR life?

Was there a time when it sounded like it came from another planet?

How do YOU translate God’s Word to the people around you?

Do your words set hearts afire for good?

Or do they scorch the earth?

I guess it all depends on our translation.

—

Bible Translations.

People ask me which version of the Bible is the best. 

I say, “The one you read.” 

Thanks to the Internet, you can now read ALL the versions and compare them for yourself. 

You, too, can be a universal translator.

If you read enough versions, you start to see that every translation is also an interpretation. 

Interpretation is as much art as science. 

Pentecost may have been a miracle of language. 

But more, it was a miracle of the heart. 

A miracle of art. 

And art is always open to interpretation.

—

We Christians celebrate Pentecost as the “Birthday of the Church.” 

I beg to differ. 

The word, “Christians,” doesn’t show up until chapter 11 of Acts, in the city of Antioch. 

Antioch isn’t even IN Israel; it’s in what we now call Turkey. 

And the name, “Christian,” wasn’t a compliment. 

The Antiochenes used it mockingly, to distinguish the Jesus Jews from traditional Jews, whom they also mocked because, you know, immigrants. 

Little did the locals know that someday we’d call them all Turkeys. 

Karma’s gonna get you.

We Christians tend to think the miracle of Pentecost is something God invented just for us. 

As if before that day there was no Holy Spirit and there was no Pentecost.

But look.

Verse 4 of Acts that we read today says, 

“Now there were devout Jews from every people under heaven living in Jerusalem.”

Jews from every people under heaven were in Jerusalem because God’s Spirit brought them home. 

The home of the Temple, the home of God. 

But 50 days after the Jewish festival of Passover, there was another reason. 

Jews from everywhere had come for their next holiday, the Festival of Weeks, it’s called in English. 

In Hebrew, it’s Shavuot.

Shavuot. 

Want to guess what Shavuot translates to in Greek, the language of the New Testament? 

Shavuot means… 

Pentecost. 

Pente- meaning 50. 

50 days after Passover (which coincides with our Easter) – 

50 days after Passover is the Jewish festival of Shavuot. 

Shavuot is the holy day when Jews recall Moses on Mount Sinai, receiving the Ten Commandments and then speaking them to the people. 

So, to the Jews, Shavuot – Pentecost was and is a holiday, a holy day, the day the Law of God was translated to the world. 

Very much like our Christian Pentecost when news of Jesus was translated to the world.

You know how holidays go. 

Everybody likes a party. 

So people will “borrow” – nice way to say it – borrow holidays from their neighbors.

Like, for instance, Cinco de Mayo – Fifth of May – a Mexican holiday – is now observed by all Americans as a great excuse for margaritas.

Providentially – or coincidentally – or appropriationally – when Jews are celebrating the delivery of the Law – 50 days after Passover – we Christians celebrate the delivery of the Holy Spirit 50 days after Easter. 

We morphed Pentecost into “OUR” holiday. 

We “adopted” the name. 

Reinterpreted it. 

So now we have “OUR” Pentecost. 

And 99% of us have no idea it’s not original.

That’s the thing about having the same words for different things. 

Unless you know the translation, know how to interpret it, somebody’s gotta be wrong. 

More art than science.

Listening. Understanding. Cooperating. It takes work.

All good art does.

I guess it all depends on your willingness – our willingness – to translate.

—

If you remember one of my previous sermons,

LOL – don’t worry, I can’t even remember them – 

In a previous sermon I mentioned my friendship with Rabbi Josh and his wife, Sheila.

I’ve told the story of how we were brought together by Wayne Wooten, evangelist to the stars. 

Josh and Sheila invited me to a Friday night Shabbat dinner at the synagogue on 9th Avenue. 

Spoiler alert: the food is amaze amaze amaze.

Second spoiler: they do the service in Hebrew. 

Lucky for me I had four weeks of Hebrew in seminary, 30 years ago. 

So - yes - I’m fluent. 

Josh coached me through. 

Showed me the right way to rock a yarmulke. 

And top-chef Sheila served a meal that would make Jesus come back, for seconds. 

When we were leaving, one of the members thanked me for coming. 

He said he knew it took courage for me to be there. 

Courage? 

I was confused. 

I smiled and said it didn’t take courage at all. 

All it took was a generous invitation. 

A warm welcome.

And yeah. 

You don’t need courage. 

When you think you own the place. 

And people like me do that.

I’m a Straight, White, Protestant Christian male in good health. 

I have enough money to do the things I want - thank you.

I don’t think twice about the places I go because wherever I go, everyone’s pretty much just like me.

It never dawned on me that if the roles were reversed, that if an Orthodox rabbi and his wife dropped in, 

unannounced, 

on a Christian church service, 

hearing us lay claim to Pentecost as OUR exclusive right, 

our property, 

they might well think twice, or more. 

It would take courage.

–

We read Exodus 20 today, the 10 commandments that Jewish Pentecost celebrates. 

I’ve been a pastor for 30 years and –

Courageously confessing my ignorance –

I just now realized for the first time, this year (!), how churches don’t usually read the Commandments on our - slash - their Pentecost. 

Our Common Lectionary of readings completely ignores the day of receiving the Law, our shared Law. 

We just gloss over that shared witness of our shared Bible.

If you put your finger at the start of our “New Testament,” you’ll see that Our Christian Bible is 4/5ths what we call “Old Testament.” 

What Jews call “The Bible.” 

While we don’t disregard the first four-fifths, we don’t come close to giving it equal weight as the last fifth. 

We don’t know our own history. 

We don’t speak our own Bible’s language. 

We lose the translation. 

So we lose the long testament of the Spirit of God. 

We lose the Spirit that we often greedily and exclusively claim as property and ours alone. 

Like we own the place.

I don’t think I’m anti-semitic. 

I’m more like benignly clueless. 

Some might ask, what’s the difference? 

It depends on where you stand – 

and how you interpret your own book.

–

Too many times, churches claiming to speak for the God of love speak words that sound like hate. 

Or at best, we speak words of silent ignorance toward people who’re different.

Jews. Muslims. Baptists.

People who don’t fit in OUR pews, don’t sing OUR songs, don’t come to OUR buildings. 

We exclude them. We shame them. We ignore them.

Not on purpose. Usually.

And if you’ve ever been excluded, or shamed, or ignored by your own church, I’m so sorry. 

And I believe Jesus has given me the courage to say it.

Too many times churches commit sins of omission. 

Sins of benign neglect.

Only to find out there’s nothing harmless about it. 

Tongues of fire can light up the good. 

But untamed and toxic, their fire can also scorch the earth, 

scorch nations – 

and scorch people, 

our sisters and brothers, 

sometimes literally – 

when we forget God’s Law.

–

I like to think the voice of God is always a voice of love.

But even love depends on how it’s spoken 

And how it’s interpreted.

Interpretation can be really hard work.

Not just on Pentecost. But daily.

How do you hear God’s voice?

How do you speak God’s voice?

In your life?

In your every day?

The best we can do is have the courage to try.

Do our words help, or do they hurt?

I don’t know.

I guess it’s all in the translation.

[eos]

James McTyre

865-216-1980

Business card: https://jamesmctyre.com

Your Best Day Ever

 

2026-05-17 Your Best Day Ever

John 17:1-11

17 After Jesus had spoken these words, he looked up to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, 2 since you have given him authority over all people,[a] to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. 3 And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. 4 I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. 5 So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.

6 “I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. 7 Now they know that everything you have given me is from you, 8 for the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you, and they have believed that you sent me. 9 I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world but on behalf of those whom you gave me, because they are yours. 10 All mine are yours, and yours are mine, and I have been glorified in them. 11 And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.

Acts 1:6-14

6 So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” 7 He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” 9 When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. 10 While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. 11 They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

12 Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath day’s journey away. 13 When they had entered the city, they went to the room upstairs where they were staying: Peter, and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of[a] James. 14 All these were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.

—

Your Best Day Ever

I want you to do something for me. 

Close your eyes and picture the best day of your life. 

Eyes closed. 

OK. Got it? 

Picturing that day?

Now open your eyes.

Wild guess. 

But I’ll bet not many of you were picturing being in church, in the gym, right now, today. 

I mean, if this IS the happiest day of your life, good for you. 

Carpe that diem, y’all.

For the rest of us, the best day of our life is one that’s come and gone. 

That’s the problem. 

Because those are precious days we wish we could hold onto. 

Really seize them, squeeze them, reprise them.

Be back in them.

The day the disciples saw Jesus ascend into heaven was one of those days.

They wanted to hold onto Jesus. 

But the angels told them, “No.” 

You can’t do that.

But – they said – hold on. 

Hang on.

Because coming soon, you will have another best day ever. 

“This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

That’ll be a good day. The best.

When is YOUR next best day ever?

And how will you know that it is?

—

One of our daughters

when she was about 3 years old, was having a very good day. 

She spread her arms wide and exclaimed:

“This is the best day of my whole life!”

And when you’re three, you may be right.

Psalm 90:12 says, “Teach us to count our days that we may gain a wise heart.”

It’s easier to count them when you don’t have that many.

Maybe she learned the Psalm from her father, the pastor.

Or, maybe she learned it from Spongebob Squarepants. 

He’s always declaring:  

“This is the Best Day Ever!”

Spongebob is such an annoying little saint.

—

In Acts chapter 1, that we read, the disciples are wanting to literally count the days. 

They’re chomping at the bit for THE best day ever – EVER.

It says, 

…they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” 

“Should we start the countdown?”

And in typical Jesus fashion he says 

Yes… and… No.

He replies, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority….”

I take that to mean 

They – you – WE – simply can’t know which one is our best day ever. 

It’s beyond us.

It’s like the old joke: 

Say, “Hey Old Man: Have you lived here all your life?” 

and he says, “Not yet.”

Another day’s a-coming. 

And it might just be the best one.

—

Every high school senior counts the days to graduation. 

In their mind, graduation day will truly be The Best Day Ever.

They’re so looking forward to escaping the prison of the classroom, of being free. 

Sure, kid. 

That’s exactly how it works. 

Shhh. 

Let them enjoy the illusion while they’re still on their parents’ health insurance.

I imagine more than one of you, when you were remembering the best day of your life, recalled a graduation. 

Your high school graduation, trade school, GED. 

Flight training. 

Culinary. 

Grad school. 

Your second grad school. 

Getting your Uber license. 

All best days. 

Trinity’s Preschool graduation is this Thursday. 

When you closed your eyes

if you remembered YOUR preschool graduation – 

I hope you’re very young. 

John 17, is kind of like Jesus’s Baccalaureate speech to his disciples. 

Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.

They’re graduating. 

He’s sending them out into the world, praying for their protection and success.

School’s out.

Jesus ascends to heaven. 

And now these disciples are really, truly on their own.

And it’s a great day. 

And a scary one, too.

—

Anyone who’s graduated from anything knows 

You’re just getting started. 

For pastors graduating seminary, like Ryan Obray this weekend, 

the REAL education starts the day you walk in the church doors. 

When you lead your first youth trip to Orlando. 

When you do your first Children’s Sermon or moderate your first Session meeting – 

not that there’s a big difference.

My first true-life teacher in ministry, my mentor, my friend and colleague, the Reverend Doctor Joe Johnson, was the kind soul who gave me my first job when I graduated seminary: 

Associate Pastor of Evergreen Presbyterian Church in Dothan, Alabama, 

57 short years ago.

Seems like yesterday.

Last year, Joe ascended to heaven with Jesus.

And I miss him.

Joe loved this passage.

He thought it was funny.

Because it was so uncomfortably true.

Those grad school disciples had no idea what was about to hit them that day.

They flip their tassels. 

They take off their mortarboards and toss them into the air. 

And then Jesus follows their square hats right up – and keeps on going up – up to heaven. 

THAT wasn’t in the bulletin.

Full stop. 

The disciples stare. 

Mouths gaping. 

Going, “Whaaaaaat?”

And there he goes. 

And goes. 

Like when your child accidentally lets go of her balloon, and it rises beyond the clouds.

“I’m sorry, honey. We can’t get Bluey back. She’s gone.” 

There’s not much sadder than a child’s balloon slipping away. 

Whenever you see a balloon floating in the sky, you know somewhere there’s a child wiping tears away, saying, “Come back! Come back!” 

A best day turns into a saddest.

Joe loved this passage. 

Because the way he saw it, the disciples are like little children barely out of preschool. 

The disciples are so consumed that they completely miss the angels – 

Angels – standing right beside them 

arms folded, fingers tapping, going, “Ahem?”

“[Silly – implied – childish] 

Men of Galilee – 

why do you stand looking up toward heaven?”

The Apostles, these blessed saints (bless their hearts) were so busy trying to solve the engineering problem – 

how to jump up and attach the hooks that would pull Jesus back down to earth 

that they totally missed the living, sandals-on-the-ground soldiers of the cross ANGELS right beside them.

Joe thought this was hilarious. 

Probably because he knew firsthand how clueless we all can be. 

Not just men. 

Although several of us guys do share the patent. 

Joe laughed – laughed at himself, laughed at all of us. 

He knew religious people can be so clueless, so 

self-absorbed that we miss the best days ever.

The angels tell the disciples:

This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

Some people read this as talking about the Second Coming when Jesus comes back to restore the kingdom.

Maybe so.

I read it not as the Second Coming, but as the Third coming. 

The fourth, the fifth, 

and the fifty-thousandth coming

That might just happen today.

We can be so busy trying to promote ourselves up into heaven – 

that we get caught totally by surprise when his angels appear beside us, 

and we’re just big-old clueless goofballs.

–

Acts 1, right after the angels teach their lesson, verse 12 takes a sharp turn. 

Instead of talking anymore about the Ascension of Jesus,

Instead of explaining it,

it starts listing off the disciples. 

All of them. 

Peter, and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. together with [the] women [in their little church], including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.

Why call the roll now? 

I mean, don’t you usually do that when class is STARTING?

Maybe it is. Starting that day.

—

Earlier, after you were remembering your best day ever, you opened your eyes. 

You opened your eyes and you saw where you were. 

You opened your eyes and you saw the people sitting in front of you. 

You awakened to the people beside you. 

You woke up to a vision of – I don’t know – angels? 

Around you? 

The Book of Acts names a whole bunch of people who might, just might be angels as well as disciples. 

Why would we EVER think the list is exhaustive?

Open your eyes. Look around. 

Look there. Count them.

There’s Ford.

There’s Nathan.

There’s Veronica.

There’s Zach.

There’s Abby.

There’s Ryan, graduating from seminary this weekend.

The Bible flat out names the living saints and angels alike.

It’s a roll call.

Open your eyes.

Look around. 

Remember around.

See any angels among us?

There’s Jean and John.

And Craig and Connie.

And Sylvia and Frank.

And Sandy and Hugh.

Jim and Ann.

John and Anne (with an E).

Sharon and Bill.

Britt and Todd.

Stephanie and Scott.

Greg and NellAnn.

Our other Associate Pastor, Wendy. And David.

Just to name a few.

And all those brave, brave women walking alone 

All those brave, brave men 

whose earthly angels have gone up to Jesus. 

Speak the angels' names.

Speak YOUR angels’ names.

Speak them out loud.

Go ahead if you want to.

Because they are here.

As sure as YOU are still here.

They have not graduated and left home.

They are not gone. 

And neither are you.

And you, you graduates, whether you’re moving across country or moving one foot in front of the other,

Never, never – never ever – be afraid, 

never be ashamed –

Never hesitate for one half of one second 

To speak your own name, to speak it loud, 

to speak your own name with pride, with rage, with joy, with love –

Even if nobody else is calling it,

Speak it loud. 

because it’s not just your voice, 

it’s your parents, your grandparents, your great-grandparents, 

your teachers, your coaches, your neighbors, 

your church – 

All of them – all of us – are speaking your name with you, speaking for you, 

It’s like a wave.

Ride that wave, 

Ride that wave that brought you here, to this day,

That wave that will carry you where you’re headed next. 

But then…

when the world’s waves overcome you, and they will,

call out your name – call your names, 

Call the names that are your wave.

Call on their spirit,

Call out for them to lift you up

To breathe again.

To see the light again.

For they are there.

And they will answer you.

Because you’re still here.

—

The Good News of the Bible is still being written, rewritten in jaw-dropping ways that lift up Jesus on our worst days 

AND on our 

Best. 

Days. 

Ever. 

All of you –

Right here, online, at home, 

Deployed, employed and living elsewhere, 

Recovering in a hospital,

Searching for a home…

Hold on.

Hold on to THIS very special, one-of-a-kind day,

Even if it seems Jesus is out of sight

Maybe this isn’t your best day,

But it’s A day. Your day.

And when we open the eyes of our heart, 

And see the angels, who knows? 

This really could be

THE best day ever.

[eos]

Lord, we pray for the men and women, for the boys and girls who are graduating from school. We pray for all of us who are graduating from the school of yesterday. Help us walk across the stage of life and accept your gift of this day being handed to us. 

Help us remember to see our angels. To feel them living in our hearts, and as our hearts. May this be the time they return. May this be the time we turn, the day we turn into the best that it can be. 

In the name of the risen Jesus.

Amen.