Acts 2:1-21
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 nation 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.”
Now there were devout Jews from every nation 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.”
But Peter, standing
with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who
live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in
the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: ‘In the
last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all
flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men
shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves,
both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall
prophesy. And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth
below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist. The sun shall be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
Dear
St. Aidan’s, what an honor to celebrate this amazing liturgical feast of
Pentecost with you, and happy birthday! They say this day is the birthday of
the church--not just this church, but all churches. St. Aidan’s, though, has
been listening to and attempting to keep up with that same revolutionary Spirit,
described in our reading from Acts as sounding like rushing wind and appearing
as strange fire on the heads of that odd group of aspiring Jesus followers,
since your founding. At age 60 this
year, you are still one of the youngest churches in the Diocese of California
and the second youngest in the city of San Francisco. Your congregation’s
profound authenticity and courage through the years has borne witness to the
Divine Spirit’s eagerness to embrace humanity--each and every one of us--and
put us to joyful work for the common good. Whether it was protesting for civil
rights, or welcoming earlier than others the leadership of ordained women like Deacon
Phyllis Edwards and the Rt. Reverend Nedi Rivera, or ministering to, with, and
for the LGBT community before, after and during the HIV/AIDS crisis, St. Aidan’s
has shown the whole church and the city of San Francisco what following the
Spirit can look like.
In
recent years you and your bold Rector have continued to provide robust and
creative leadership, modeling what neighborhood engagement is all about: supporting
the Night Ministry, Sojourn Chaplaincy, Sacred Space San Francisco, your food
pantry, and getting not just your congregation prepared, but the whole Diocese
prepared for disasters. By the way, Father Tommy told me yesterday that he’s
got quite a packed schedule today befitting the significance of Pentecost:
visiting the historic Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta where The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther
King Jr. preached the gospel, attending a Methodist church with a friend, and then
a gospel drag brunch at a restaurant called Lips.
The
Spirit of Pentecost, the Spirit that animates all life and that does something
particular it seems with folks like you and me who are interested in the way of
Jesus, puts us in strange places with strange people and asks us to do some
tough stuff as we together seek to turn the world around. It doesn’t mean we are
going to end up healthy, wealthy and wise, at least not in the ways that the
world measures success. Most of the
individuals I’ve known in my life that were really noticeably living in the Spirit
have scars and wounds from having put themselves out there for justice, truth,
compassion and the dignity of others. If
they haven’t literally been shot at, they have been the victims of cruelty,
gossip, been ignored and persecuted or are flat broke, but all the while they
have carried that flame, that fire with them, and that has made all the
difference. That flame, that fire doesn’t always make a church large, doesn’t
always make a crowd fall on their knees, and isn’t contained by an institution
or its trappings. That fire, that flame
abides with each one of us uniquely and inspires us to listen and pay attention
to the particulars of our story, our community, our day-to-day lives. That
flame, that fire, empowers us to be ourselves where we are and to be witnesses
to the love and liberating power of Christ.
The
other day I was visiting a friend of mine in Berkeley who works for the
Bancroft Library. He told me about what was going on there this past week, an
event called BREATH OF LIFE / SILENT NO MORE Language Restoration Workshop for California
Indian Languages hosted by The Advocates for Indigenous California Language
Survival and The Survey of California and Other Indian Languages. I thought of
Pentecost as my friend spoke about the profoundly moving experience of watching
people come into that large, venerable academic institution, many for the first
time, and open up archives and discover recordings of their ancestors. To me it
is the Holy Spirit, the Divine Spirit that helps us individual human beings
appreciate in a deep way the experience of others. When we are in touch with
the Spirit we are like those flaming in Acts.
We are able to be in touch with our authentic selves, our roots and
at the same time understand and comprehend the meaning and significance of others. We may not
know their language but we can “get” the pain, joy, grief or experience of
another. It is a failure to listen, a failure to appreciate, a failure to be in
and of the Spirit that leads us astray that allows us to be cruel, inhumane,
and oppressive of others --- that allows us to say my language is better than
your language, or my religion is truer than your religion, that forces my way
on another. The genocide of indigenous peoples that many of our
Episcopal/Anglican ancestors were part of, were complicit with and in some
parts of the world may still perpetuate –is a consequence of our human failure
to honor the dignity and worth of every human being, a failure to walk in the
way of Jesus and a failure to take in the meaning of Pentecost.
In 2009
the Episcopal General Convention repudiated the Doctrine of Discovery. The Doctrine of
Discovery is a key premise for non-Indigenous government claims to legitimacy
on and sovereignty over Indigenous lands and territories. It is used in
particular by former British colonies, specifically Canada, Australia, New
Zealand and the United States. In 2012, Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts
Schori issued a pastoral lettering saying, “We seek to address the need for
healing in all parts of society, and we stand in solidarity with indigenous
peoples globally to acknowledge and address the legacy of colonial occupation
and policies of domination. Our
Christian heritage has taught us that a healed community of peace is only
possible in the presence of justice for all peoples. We seek to build such a beloved community
that can be a sacred household for all creation, a society of right
relationships.” So much of the Christian Church, both Catholicism and
Protestant operated for centuries with such a wrong approach to engagement with
other peoples. Our church’s acknowledgement of that wrong belief by repudiating
the doctrine of Discovery should make us wonder what other destructive ideas
and interpretations is the church still clinging to that contaminate our
witness to a God of love, justice and peace? Are we failing by not collectively
and individually embracing more dramatic changes in our contemporary lives
relating to climate change and gun control? In both cases, science and
technology point us towards healing and right action, yet we are far too slow
to act. Perhaps we need to welcome and ask the Spirit to set us ablaze with a passion
strong enough to become the organizers and activists needed for our time--to
challenge ourselves, businesses, organizations and schools to dramatically lower
our carbon footprints, switch to clean energy technology and encourage divestment
from both gun making and oil drilling. What could be a more Pentecost-like
agenda than advocating for solar, wind and a world with fewer weapons?
So what
is our Pentecost lesson today? That life in the Spirit is different. When we
are set ablaze something happens to us. We experience a sense of belonging and
solidarity with others and the cosmos that transcends all divisions, and at the
same time gives us a deeper awareness of our distinctiveness as individuals
with unique gifts, stories, opportunities and experiences. We are moved, as Peter
was, to speak prophetic truth about the Divine’s embrace, quoting Joel:
In the last days it will be, God declares
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters
shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall
dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour
out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy… everyone who calls on the name of the
Lord shall be saved.
Our
work, it seems, is to give voice to the inclusive love of God, and to open
ourselves up to hearing that message come back to us from anywhere or anyone. Yesterday
I was in a book store and discovered an interesting title, In Search of the Christian Buddha, which is about an Islamic legend
called Barlaam and Josaphat that is actually a retelling of the story of Siddhartha
Gautama that was ultimately embraced by both western and eastern Christianity.
Just as
the Apostles went out from Jerusalem to engage the life of the Spirit with
others, to sell what they had to share with those in need, to care for the sick
and challenge the powerful to greater compassion, we too have work to do. That work is fueled by the fire of the Spirit
within us and not our own egos or institutional agendas. This Pentecost, let us
take in both the good news and the challenging word that moves us to be witnesses
to the love of God, and that also challenges us to acknowledge where we have
gone astray—or how we have failed to really “get” the message and allow it to
change us. Perhaps the antidote to our past Christian triumphalism is to work
in solidarity with sisters and brothers from other faith traditions, to acknowledge
our past inhumanity, seek deeper understanding of how much we have in common, and
pay attention to how the Pentecost story of Acts might still hold lessons for
us and our communities.Happy Birthday!
