When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
Now there were devout Jews from every people under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” 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 2:1-13 (NRSVUE)
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our God our Creator, from Jesus, our Savior, and Lord, and from the Holy Spirit - our Advocate and Spirit of Truth. Amen.
I want to share a story with you that happened this week with my male, alpha cat, Romeo. He’s a bugger. For the past few months, every time I open the door to my apartment, he is there, waiting to escape. I’m not sure what he thinks is on the other side of that door. Because - and if you’ve been to my apartment you know this - it’s one long hallway where every door looks the same. And that’s it.
But, for some reason, he thinks something is exciting and magical on the other side of that door. So, earlier this week, I decided to give him his freedom. To let him out the door as I took a bag of trash to the garbage chute, down the hallway from my apartment. And to see how he would respond.
At first, his tail flicked and I could tell he was excited! And, perhaps, even a little stunned. Freedom. I could see it in his eyes as I walked down the hall, trying to convince him to come. And that was where his sense of adventure died. Quickly. By the time I got back to my apartment, he had moved away from me to my neighbor’s apartment - they all look the same so, perhaps, he thought it was mine. And he sat in front of it, crying to be let back in. It was the loudest cry from him I have heard.
So, I fetched him. And he was shaking. His body was tense. His claws dug into me. I brought him back inside, holding and petting him for a while until it seemed he was ready to be released, which I did. Yet, for the rest of the evening, he would startle at any noise from outside in the hallway or anything else unexpected. Poor little alpha Romeo.
Our story today is, actually, the exact opposite of Romeo’s experience. We’ve shifted backward in time from the stories of the past few weeks. Back to the time just after Jesus’ ascension. When the disciples were all gathered in the room together. Unlike Romeo, trying to get out of my apartment, the disciples are cowering in the room together. Small and afraid. Hiding inside a locked room. Fearful of what might happen to them in his absence. Knowing his promise to send his Spirit to be with them. Yet, also understanding their reality, and how they are perceived as rebels in their religious community.
So, when they hear the sound of the wind and Jesus’ Spirit manifesting itself on them in the form of fire - one can only imagine how astounded they are by this. Who could possibly have expected that this is what it would be like - this promise of Jesus’ Spirit - poured out on them amid their fearful hiding? Leading them to open up the locked doors into the wideness and freedom of their community and to witness the miraculous. To be given the gift of language - that which connects us with other people.
This part of the Pentecost story may remind us of the story of Babel in the Hebrew scriptures. They’re often connected to one another. Perhaps you remember the Old Testament story - where the people who at the time all spoke the same language wanted to build a tower to reach heaven for their own personal gain. Not such a good idea. It’s why the Lord scattered them and confused their language. Sometimes the story of Babel is taught as a curse. But, what if it isn’t? What if, when connected to our story today from Acts - it’s a correction? That God is correcting our human tendency to see the world through a single lens instead of through the blessing of diverse eyes? The God of Pentecost opts for difference. So, the miracle of Pentecost, then, is that the Holy Spirit provides understanding to this diverse group of people - each one hearing them speak in their native language. Because God is and always has been about the expansion of difference. It is finally, in this story of Pentecost, that God’s people are catching up!
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We’ve spent a lot of time over these past few weeks, leaning into some difficult topics. Thinking about disruption. About who is on the edge of belonging in our world. About our enemies. About those whose stories we don’t trust.
Do we really understand, as the Pentecost community began to understand, that God loves God’s diverse creation? That we are called to lean into it, to love it - not to change everyone else to be like us, but to thrive in its messiness, to be drunk - not on new wine - but on the unbounded imagination of God’s creativity, manifested in the Spirit. Always on the loose. This free and widely-shared gift, that rushes ahead to alter the reality of our world with possibilities too often restricted by our imaginations.
In some ways, we are exactly like my cat Romeo. Who deeply longs for freedom, but is terrified of it. What if we simply let go? And began to just love everyone? To celebrate difference? To wonder in the diversity of God's good creation?
Perhaps, then, we - like the disciples on that Pentecost day so long ago - might also begin to catch up to the wild and wonderful work of the Spirit. So be it. Amen.
Preached Sunday, May 19, 2024, at Grace & Glory, Goshen, KY, and Third/MOSAIC, Louisville, KY.
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