Amazed and astonished, they asked, "Are not all of these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language...?" All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, "What does this mean? But others sneered and said, "They are filled with new wine."

Acts 2:7-8, 12-13

"So what did you do at General Synod?" a church member asked me. I had to pause a moment to sort out what to say. It made me aware that I need a new elevator speech for this. An elevator speech, as many of you know, is what you want to be sure to say when someone asks you about something you really believe in as you enter an elevator. You want to say it all, and you want to say it briefly enough that nobody has to hold the elevator door open while you finish saying it. Elevator speeches are important things to have ready if you're in sales, politics or evangelism. The job of an elevator speech is to say the most important thing you want someone to hear, as quickly as you are able to say it.    

I'm not good at elevator speeches. There's always too much that I think is important, exciting and interesting to tell about the things I really enjoy - the United Church of Christ being one of them, and General Synod being one of the places where I can glimpse for a moment the whole giftedness of the UCC's messy, mixed up family of faith and action that I like so much. Like most large gatherings, you wouldn't want to do it all the time. It requires too much energy for that. But every time the Synod gathers, I find myself wishing more church members could be there to see what a church could be like if all our racial, ethnic, attitudinal, economic, political, aesthetic, regional, sexual and stupidly silly identities got thrown together in one space to talk to one another self-consciously in the sight of God. At its best moments, it's Pentecostal, and even when it's not it's a time for stretching our minds to grow in one another's direction.

Often people come back to their local church from General Synod talking funny. It's one thing to express our ideas among people we know will mostly agree with us, but when you're voting on a resolution against sports mascots like the Cleveland Indians or the Washington Redskins after eating lunch with a group of UCC folks from the reservation, it tends to change the way you talk about that issue. Or when you're praying as a multi-racial fellowship for the members of an AME church in Charleston who were murdered at prayer because of their race, it changes the quality of that prayer. And when you learn to put aside your simplistic views about Israel and Palestine, because the Pastor of the Lutheran Church in Bethlehem is sharing his experiences with you in a sermon, you come back less steady in your beliefs, but warmer in your compassion.

More than 3,000 people attended General Synod in Cleveland. More than 700 of them were delegates representing the UCC's 38 Conferences. This week, all of them have come home. They're in our churches, talking funny, thinking funny. They haven't been brain washed (as some people think), but they have been exposed, and sometimes changed. Ask them to give you their elevator speech. Then ask them to tell you more. They have stories, and stories are what faith is made of.