Sermon for Pentecost Sunday

It’s been 50 days since the disciples saw the greatest sight that they would ever see for the rest of their lives: a dead man alive once again, before their eyes. But as awesome as that sight was, eventually the novelty wears off, and they are left with the question, “Now what?” Last week we heard them ask Jesus, “Will you now make good on the 2,000 year-old promise of God that we will have land and a kingdom to call our own, one which all the nations will acknowledge as the one chosen by God?” And after waiting two millennia, Jesus says, “What’s another few days? Wait for the Holy Spirit.”

And so here they are, on the 50th day, on the Jewish celebration of Pentecost, literally, “the 50th day.” The feast of Pentecost came 50 days after the feast of Passover, when the people of Israel celebrated their liberation by God from slavery in Egypt. Of course, after that mighty act of God, the people of Israel also asked, “Now what?” God’s answer to them was the Law, starting with the Ten Commandments, given to Moses at Mt. Sinai. And that is why Jews from all over the world, speaking many different languages, were in Jerusalem that day, to celebrate the feast of Pentecost. But the followers of Jesus Christ were not given more amendments to the law, nor were they given a brand new law. They were given something more tenuous, yet more deeply rooted in their hearts.

There is a tension between the seen and unseen. We want assurances we can see, yet the most important decisions we make are usually based on something more like intuition, because usually there isn't a prepared map to tell us what will happen if we take this turn or that turn. The same tension, between the seen and unseen, is here in the story of the first Christian Pentecost. The scene itself makes for great visual drama – one scholar calls it slightly burlesque. There they are, silently praying. Then suddenly the doors fly open, as do the clattering windows, blown open by a howling wind that shocks them out of their silence. Then what should appear above them, inside their room, but a fire which then divides into pieces that come to rest on top of each one.

But no film can show you what happens next. As that flame works its way throughout their bodies, each of Jesus’s disciples felt the fire that warmed the hearts of those two travelers on the road to Emmaus while Jesus walked with them unrecognized. Now, they are filled by the Holy Spirit, in their hearts, their minds, their eyes, ears and mouths. They no longer need to ask Jesus to interpret the story of Israel and her struggles. Now they can interpret the story themselves. Now they can go out into that huge crowd and listen to each individual story, and speak whatever “Good News” that person needs to hear. Yes, the Holy Spirit gives them the courage and the boldness to go out into that crowd and start preaching. But one can only speak of what one knows. And before they boldly go out, the Spirit opens their minds and hearts to new insights and fresh ways of understanding Holy Scripture.

They also are given the ability to communicate this Good News in different languages. These were religious pilgrims from as far south as Arabia, as far west as Turkey, and as far east as Iran. But no language is too remote for the Good News to comprehend. To some the apostles may have been drunks babbling away. But to those pilgrims waiting for the fulfillment of God's promises to Israel, it wasn't Pentecostal tongues they heard, but the best news of their lives.

Of course, “language” is a funny thing. George Bernard Shaw said that the English and Americans were two people divided by a common language. Our children are very adept at finding new ways to say something in such a way as to sound incomprehensible to their parents. Children growing up in an abusive home learn to speak a language that says, “I’m not a threat to you. I’m not looking for a fight. Please don’t hurt me,” and then carry that language with them into their other relationships. In other words, you don’t have to speak a foreign language to be speaking a different language.

In our culture, the language we often hear is very “Christian.” But we are here because we have found that what sounded “Christian” to many of the people around us didn’t sound Christian to you and me. I wonder how many others are out there, who have heard a “Christian” language that didn’t sound very loving, that didn’t sound “Christ-like?” The Holy Spirit gave the first disciples of Jesus boldness to speak in different languages. Perhaps what the Holy Spirit might give us is the boldness to listen – listen to the stories of those who have encountered judgment and hypocrisy in the churches they attended. Perhaps, when they are convinced that we have heard them, they might believe us when we tell them that there are places where they can find forgiveness and acceptance.

And so, in our speaking and our listening, wherever we are, let us always pray, "Come Holy Spirit, come."