RCL Pentecost A [i]
24 May 2026
Saint Helen’s Anglican Church
Vancouver BC
Retracing our steps
Two weeks ago I began this three-part sermon by asking the question, ‘How can we do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine?’ The answer provided by Jesus, who has ‘great expectations’ of us, is that God will send us the gift of the Paraklētos, the one who will advocate on our behalf, who will comfort us, who will counsel us and who will be our companion on the journey of faith.
Last week I offered some thoughts about why we need the Spirit’s advocacy, comfort, counsel and companionship. We need that advocacy, comfort, counsel and companionship, because God, in God’s infinite wisdom and, dare I say, sense of humour, has entrusted us to continue the ministry to the world begun in creation, continued in the life of the people of Israel and brought to a new chapter in the life, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus. God anticipated the motto of the University of British Columbia by many millennia by saying to us, ‘Tuum est.’ ‘It’s over to you now.’
Now it is all well and good that God should promise us the gift of the Spirit and should entrust to us the continuation of the mission and ministry of Jesus. But a simple review of the human condition and our history as a species would suggest that we need something more. We need more than advocacy, comfort, counsel and companionship. We need something within us to spur us into doing what we are called to be, to do and to become.
Garrison Keillor, the American humourist, hosted a wonderful radio program called, ‘A Prairie Home Companion’ on public radio in the United States. Done in the style of the late forties and fifties, one of the ‘sponsors’ of the program was the makers of ‘Powdermilk Biscuits’, a treat that promised giving "shy persons the strength to get up and do what needs to be done.’ Well, friends, on this Pentecost, it’s fair to ask what the Spirit is going to give us, so that we have the strength to get up and do what needs to be done.
Courage is the gift of the Spirit.
Thirty-one years ago I travelled to Ottawa to participate as a member of General Synod from the Diocese of New Westminster. As I was registering, I was suddenly whisked away and asked if I would be willing to preside and preach at a three-point parish in the Ottawa Valley that coming Sunday. It turned out that the priest who was going to host a number of people from dioceses in British Columbia had come down with a serious case of laryngitis. I said ‘yes’ and then had reason to regret my answer. That coming Sunday was Pentecost.
General Synod 1995 took place is a highly-charged atmosphere. We were in the early days of our conflict over the full inclusion of LGTBQ disciples in the life of our Church. A three-year ‘listening to diverse voices’ project had indicated that we weren’t listening well to one another and that diversity, much as it has become again, was a red flag to a bull. So, in the days leading up to Pentecost, I found myself pondering what was the gift of the Spirit that came upon the apostolic community.
Despite what we heard in the Acts of the Apostles this morning, the gift of the Spirit was more than the ability to proclaim the good news of God in Jesus of Nazareth in the many and diverse languages spoken among those who heard Peter speak two thousand years ago. I realized that the primary gift of the Spirit was something more subtle but essential.
The evangelist Luke tells us that Jesus spent forty days after his resurrection providing the apostolic community with a comprehensive ‘continuing education’ course on his mission and ministry. The evangelist John tells of a number of encounters the apostles and others had with the risen Jesus. So, it would seem that Peter and his community knew what the mission and ministry given to them was all about. What they lacked was one thing: courage.
We know that the apostolic community was afraid. We know that they were meeting behind closed doors. We know that some had been arrested by the religious authorities. We know that in a short time one will be stoned to death. There were many reasons for the followers of Jesus to keep a low profile and off the radar screens of both the religious and imperial authorities.
But all this changes on Pentecost. Peter dares to come out of hiding and to proclaim the message of the resurrection to those who are gathered in Jerusalem. From that day forth there is no more concealment. Tradition tells us that from that day on, the followers of Jesus spread out throughout the Mediterranean world to share the mystery of faith: Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.
Courage is still needed.
Courage, my friends, is not the absence of fear or concern. It is not brashness or heedless of the risks. Courage is the choice to act on our convictions – despite our fears and despite the risks. I dare say that courage is still needed among the followers of Jesus, even in Canada. That courage is needed in particular to confront the distortions of the message of the gospel that masquerade as Christian faith, but are really the worse angels of human nature cloaked in religious rhetoric and regalia.
We know that goodness is stronger than evil, but it takes courage to be good when we are amid a sea of evils. We know that love is stronger than hate, but it takes courage to love when we are afraid of the future and hate of the ‘other’ or ‘change’ or whatever other scapegoat lures us. We know that light is stronger than darkness, but it takes courage to add our one small light when darkness seems so powerful and immense. We know that life is stronger than death, but it takes courage to live boldly as the body of Christ when we are assaulted by the news of how death stalks our planet.
It takes courage to be a follower of the way of Jesus in a neighbourhood where we seem to be invisible and irrelevant. It takes courage to proclaim the truth of Jesus is a world where that truth has been distorted by those who claim to be its strongest advocates. It takes courage to risk the life of Jesus when there are voices that whisper that love of neighbour rather than love of self ought to be the priority.
But, my friends, two thousand years ago a small community of Jewish women and men were given the gift of courage. They gave birth to a movement that is world-wide and world-changing, something that was infinitely more than they could ask or imagine. For two thousand years women, men and children have embraced the responsibility to bear witness to the way, the truth and the life of Jesus, despite the temptations to pack it in and hide away. All this was accomplished because of the one gift of the Spirit that matters more than any other: the gift of courage, the gift to shy people such as we to get up and do what needs to be done.
And that gift is ours – today and in all the days to come.
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