RCL Pentecost B
27 May 2012
Saint Faith's Anglican Church
Vancouver BC
Two thousand years ago a group of
Jewish women and men gathered in a location somewhere in what we now call the
'Old City' of Jerusalem. More than a
month and a half earlier the group had experienced the trauma of the arrest,
trial and execution of their leader, a rabbi from Galilee by the name of Yeshua
ben Yosef. The trauma was further
complicated by the apparent resurrection of Yeshua on the Sunday following his
execution. The news of Yeshua's
resurrection had caused concern to the Roman and Jewish authorities and the
group gathered in secret knew that their lives were in danger.
We know little about those fifty
days from the events of Pesach, the Jewish celebration of liberation from
Egypt, to the festival of Shavuot, when Jews celebrate the giving of the Law on
Sinai. Some accounts suggest that Yeshua
or Jesus, as we know him, remained with the community and gave them further
instruction about the coming reign of God.
Other accounts suggest that Jesus ascended into heaven shortly after his
resurrection, leaving his followers to ponder the meaning of his life and his
teaching. Whichever story is true, one
thing is sure: the followers of Jesus,
filled with the experience of his life, his death, his resurrection and his
ascension were not sure what they ought to do and were afraid.
So on this Shavuot or Pentecost, as
we now call it, they gathered for the sake of fellowship and perhaps for
prayer. Only Luke, the chronicler of the
early days of the Christian movement, tells us what happened next. God's Spirit came upon them and they began to
speak in the languages of all the peoples gathered in Jerusalem to celebrate
God's revelation on Mount Sinai. The
silence of the early Christian community was broken and, from that first
Pentecost until this Pentecost, the good news of God in Jesus of Nazareth has
been shared with every known human culture in all the languages spoken by
humanity.
Some Christian commentators are
intrigued by the gift of languages that the apostolic community manifests on
the first Pentecost. This fascination
has given rise to the insistence, in some Christian communities, on the gift of
tongues or glossolalia as the sign of one's true baptism into Christ. I have served in a congregation where some
members of the community believed that there were two baptisms, one with water
and one in the Spirit. Only those who
had experienced both were truly Christians in body, mind and spirit. It is not a point of view that I share, but I
do understand the desire to seek a deeper relationship with the living God that
some Christians believe glossolalia
demonstrates.
Over the years I have come to
believe that the true gift of the Spirit is not the gift of tongues. When I look at the story of the early
Christian believers from Easter to Pentecost, I see a story about people who
are deeply afraid, despite their experience of God's incomprehensible act of
raising Jesus from the dead. The
resurrection of Jesus does not empower the community, but rather it seems to
have dis-empowered them and left them dazed and confused, uncertain as to what
they should do, even where they should be.
But on this day God, through the
agency of the Spirit, entered into that uncertainty and fear, and gave the
Christian community the most important gift I can think of: God freed them from the bonds of fear that
kept them from sharing the story of Jesus and from living the new life heralded
by the resurrection.
As I look around the Anglican Church
these days, I see a lot of fear. Some of
our fears are well-founded: our numbers
are declining, our members are aging, our sources of funding are decreasing and
our institutional structures do not seem agile enough to meet the challenges we
are facing. In contrast to our situation
more conservative forms of Christian discipleship seem to be growing, seem to
be younger, seem to have funds and seem to require less structure than our own. I have been privy to conversations in
national settings that let me with the impression we were just trying to figure
out who was going to turn off the lights, shut off the gas and turn in the keys
to the building.
We are just like that first group of
Christian disciples: we know that we
have good news to share and we have all had experiences that cause us to trust
in the God of Jesus of Nazareth. But we
are, for many reasons, paralyzed and need God's grace to break free and share
what we know and what we have experienced.
When I was in seminary, I spent a
summer working in a mental hospital with adolescents who had been incarcerated
for psychological assessments. It was
not an easy summer, but it was made easier by living in my old fraternity house
with some of the younger brothers who knew me from my time as a member of the
alumni board. I could come home, relax
and live in a totally 'un-church' environment, at least for a few hours.
One afternoon, after a particularly
bad day at the hospital, one of the younger brothers asked me why I kept going
back to a place where I was routinely insulted, frequently tricked and,
sometimes, at physical risk.
"Because," I said without thinking, "visiting the sick,
feeding the hungry and caring for the prisoners is what Christians
do." Some years later, when I went to
my first parish as a curate, I met the young man's parents. "Thank you," they said, "you
gave Brent the gift of faith." It
seems that my words aroused in Brent's heart a re-examination of the faith in
which he had been raised and he decided that it actually meant something if
someone like me would continue to do what I was doing, day after day. I thank God that I was not silent that
afternoon.
Sometimes we do not share our faith
because we think we are being polite.
Religion is not often spoken about in Canadian society unless it is a
complaint about the ills of religion.
But religious faith is the origin of public schools, public health care
and public care of the vulnerable. Have
we raised our voices to tell people this or have we simply kept silent?
Sometimes we do not share our faith
because we do not want people to think that we are religious fanatics or
thoughtless fundamentalists. But our
silence simply reinforces the stereotype that many Canadians have about
religious believers. Think how surprised
our friends and co-workers might be to discover that we are religious believers
with open minds, open hands and open hearts.
Sometimes we do not share our faith
because we afraid of forcing our views upon other people. But our vision of a future where every human
being is valued, where peace and justice governs the nations and where every
human being has enough to eat and to drink and can dwell in dignity is
certainly a view that speaks to the deepest longing of every human heart.
For many years I have been a reader
of science fiction. Unlike other forms
of fiction, science fiction allows the writer to create and the reader to
explore worlds that might be, some good, others not so good. Among the more famous writers of science
fiction is Frank Herbert whose series of novels associated with a world called
Dune have kept several generations of readers intrigued. In the first novel, simply entitled Dune, there comes a point when the lead
character, Paul Atreides, recites the 'Litany Against Fear' as he prepares
himself for a life-or-death trial of his abilities:
I must
not fear.
Fear is
the mind-killer.
Fear is
the little death that brings total obliteration.
I will
face my fear.
I will
permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when
it is gone past,
I will
turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the
fear has gone,
there
will be nothing.
Only I
will remain.
There
have been many times in the years since I first read these words that I have
returned to them and found them a catalyst to face my fears and act.
My friends, Pentecost is a day to
celebrate the coming of God's Spirit to liberate us from our fears and to fire
up our hearts, our minds and our love.
We are surrounded by people who need to hear our stories, our hopes and
our visions. They need to know that
there are communities such as ours that work for justice and peace and respect
the dignity of every human being. They
need to know that religious faith is more about a relationship with the living
God than with dogmas written in obscure languages.
May the Holy Spirit come upon us and
free us from bondage to our fears. May
the Holy Spirit come upon us and empower our witness to the God of Jesus. May the Holy Spirit come upon us and send us
forth in love and peace to share the good news.
Amen.
