Home > Sermons > May 27, 2007

Pentecost Story

Today as a celebration of the birth of the church, recorded in the second chapter of Acts, I will share with you a Pentecost story – an adaption of a dramatic reading called “Earth, Fire, and Spirit,” written by Rev. Bert Marshall, pastor of the First Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, Lee, Massachusetts. It was published on the United Church of Christ website in 2005 (www.ucc.org). 

The setting is the place where Jesus’ disciples have been living together, perhaps it was the upper room, a place somewhat secluded from the rest of Jerusalem.  And yet they are not sure they are safe. 

How dramatically their lives had changed! They had wandered the hills and valleys and lake shores of Galilee and Judea. They had practically stormed Jerusalem. They had watched and listened as their beloved teacher, Jesus of Nazareth, had lived and taught his soul-stirring message of radical love, compassion, and nonviolence. God’s realm was at hand, he told them. It’s all around you and it’s inside you. Oh, those were the days, all right! Those were the days. 

And then, how suddenly it all seemed to fall apart: they saw Jesus arrested and handed over to the Romans. They—his closest friends and disciples—had fled in fear, unable to walk the final path with him to the hill where he was crucified. Terrified, they huddled in the shadows, hid in rooms behind locked doors, waited breathlessly for the knock that would signal their own unhappy end. Then—wonder of wonders! –  Christ appeared to them. Alive! 

Well, first he appeared to some of the women. And, yes, the disciples didn’t believe that the women had seen him. But then, he appeared to them! At first they didn’t recognize him. But it was Jesus, all right. He presented himself to them by many convincing proofs during forty days, and he spoke again about God’s realm. He told them to stay in Jerusalem, to wait for the promise, to be baptized by the Spirit, to

receive the power, to become his witnesses to the ends of the earth.

As the story goes, they had returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath day’s journey away. When they had entered the city, they went to the room upstairs where they were staying. They were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary the Mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers. They also managed to pick a replacement for Judas.  

One day, Peter got to reminiscing, “So, how many did you say there are?”  And James responded, “ One hundred and twenty.” “How many?”  “A hundred and twenty.”  Peter couldn’t believe it, “You sure?  That can’t be right.  Three long years of trudging all over Galilee and Judea and a whole bunch of other places—and that’s while he was with us, don’t forget!—and we’ve only got 120 believers to show for it?” 

James said, “What’s wrong with that? That’s not so bad.”  But Peter shot back, “Are you kidding? When I think of all the miraculous deeds he performed, and the healings, and those great teachings that everybody loved, and the way the crowds all cheered him and followed him around, and . . . and . . . 

But Andrew cut in, “People are funny. You know, in the excitement of the moment they all jump on the bandwagon, but then everything quiets down again and life goes on . . .”  

“That’s right.” James added, “I mean, 120 people is pretty good, really. What did you expect?  It’s not like we’re trying to start a mass movement here or anything.”  

“Listen,”  Peter said. “You saw all those things he did, right? You heard him say all the things he said, right? We were all standing there when he disappeared into that cloud, right?”  James and Andrew were shaking their heads, “What’s the point?” 

“Well,” Peter responded, “ he also said to wait right here and something . . . something extraordinary will happen. Do you believe it?”  “To tell you the truth,” James answered, “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.” 

Meanwhile, some of the women were talking among themselves.  “I think the men would feel better if they’d get outside more often,” Joanna said.  Mary Magdalene didn’t miss a beat, “They’re too scared to go out.”  But Jesus’ Mother, shook her head and spoke softy, “It’s too bad. They were so brave and full of life when Jesus was with them.”  But Joanna reminded her, “So were we.” 

A little defensive of this line, Mary Magdalene responded, “ We still are!”

Joanna spoke a little wistfully, “I wish more of us felt as strongly about that as you do, Mary.”  But Mary Magdalene reminded her, “ We’re all brave and strong. Who goes out every day to get food and drink for this bunch? Who keeps watch at all hours of the day and night?” 

“True,” responded Jesus’ Mother, “I just don’t know how much longer we can hold up like this. It’s such a strain on everyone.”  “ Except them,”  Mary Magdalene shot an accusing finger toward the men.  “All they do is sit around and talk about how it used to be, how it could have been. You know, they never really understood him. Then they deserted him that night in the garden. Then they denied ever knowing him.” 

Jesus’ Mother was more understanding, “I know, I know. But I think they felt that they were in danger, too. That’s why they stayed away from his crucifixion. They thought they might be next.”  

Joanna was thinking about it, “Maybe. I guess I think that if the Romans wanted any of us, they would’ve found us and hauled us away in the night.”   Mary Magdalene agreed, “Exactly. Sometimes I think we should just go out and start telling people what we know and what we saw. We were with him, too. We heard what he said, we watched him heal all those people, we saw the crowds, listened to his teachings. And we were with him when he died. And I was the first one to see him alive.” 

Joanna sighed, “Everything you say is true, but I’m afraid no one will believe us. I doubt that anyone will even listen to us. They’ll just laugh at us.”  “And they laughed at Jesus, too,” his mother reminded, “Remember? Jesus took it in stride. I heard him say once that people laughed because they didn’t understand, and their lack of understanding made them uncomfortable.” 

Mary Magdalene said, “I miss him so much.” Joanna agreed.  Jesus’ Mother reminded them, “He said to wait here in Jerusalem – that the Holy Spirit would come to us and we would receive power. After that happens, then we can go into the streets to be his witnesses.”  Mary Magdalene agreed, “You’re right. I wish the Spirit would come soon. Please, God, let your Spirit come soon.” 

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 faithful people of God from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. When they heard this sound, they gathered together. Each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. They were astounded. 

James said, “They can’t believe they’re hearing this from a bunch of Galileans

like us!”  “But I can’t believe it either!” Andrew said.  James continued, “ Look at this crowd! Iraqis, Afghans, Kuwaitis, Israelis and Palestinians, Turks and Armenians, Kurds, Egyptians and Libyans, visitors from Rome, Greeks and Arabs!” 

Joanna responded, “And we can hear them speaking in their own languages about God’s deeds of power.”  “They must think we’ve been drinking!” cried Mary Magdalene. 

Then Peter raised his voice and addressed them all, “Men and women of Judea, all who live in Jerusalem, listen to me. We’re not drunk; it’s only nine o’clock in the morning. No. What you’re seeing 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 signs in the heavens and on the earth—blood, fire, and smoky mist. The sun shall be turned to darkness, and the moon to blood, before the coming of God’s great and glorious day. Then everyone who calls upon God’s name will be saved.”

Jesus’ Mother was astounded to hear Peter, “Listen to that!” she said.  And James pondered, “Do you think these are really the last days?”  Perhaps Joanna answered for them all, “I don’t know. I only know that we’ve been changed. I’ve never felt like this before.” 

Mary Magdalene agreed, “Nor have I. I knew him when he was with us. I watched him die. I saw him raised to life again. He changed, too; I didn’t recognize him at first. Then I watched him go away a second time. Twice I said goodbye.

And now this! Something amazing is happening, I can feel it.” 

The all felt it. Not long ago they felt they’d reached the end of the road. But they were wrong. It was only the beginning. Perhaps the beginning of something really big. Pentecost! It was the birth of the church! We’ve come a long way since that ancient beginning.  

It is clear that the Christian church did not arise from a clear, single-mindedness of purpose. Our tradition, instead, burst into the world in a rush of wind, a blaze of fire, and a cacophony of voices and languages. There was no “golden age” of unity and harmony. The mystery and miracle of the Jesus movement is that it rapidly gave birth to a vast array of interpretations, beliefs, and practices of faith. This may be what the passage in Acts 2 is trying to convey—that the speaking in the tongues of the nations gathered in Jerusalem opens up the possibility that each nation and every group of people, will find their own unique way to express and to live out discipleship in Christ. All of those folks gathered around Peter and the first followers went home to tell the story in their own language and with their own variations and nuances. Indeed, that has been the history of Christianity throughout the centuries. We may be called to be one in the Spirit, but certainly not one in practice!  (All of above is adapted from www.ucc.org) 

Urban Phenominon

Perhaps it is significant that the coming of the Holy Spirit is an urban experience.  Jerusalem was a metropolitan area. All of the people mentioned were probably Jews, but such a conglomeration of cultures and languages – that’s what happens in big cities.  And it is true in our urban/suburban environment.  The Chicago area is one of the most diverse in the world.  A church like ours situated in the midst of many cultures and languages can’t help but see diversity if we open ourselves to our community. And within this Congregational church are people who have come from non-Christian backgrounds, and every stripe of Christian and Unitarian faith and practice.  We are polyglot. 

It is this urban diversity which makes this story of God-given unity at Pentecost, an exact opposite to the story of Babel in the book of Genesis.  Written with a definite anti-urban bias, and a Jewish bias against the people of Babel (or Babylon), the Genesis story pokes at the Babylonian way of building with fired bricks instead of stone, and using Bitumen instead of mortar.  It disclaims the urban tendency to build up – finding that a sacrilege.  (Imagine what the Genesis writer would say about Chicago’s new proposed skyscraper – or even Evanston’s!) 

This anti-urban bias is used to tell a theological story of human hubris– a story of human endeavor to reach the heavens – to become like God. And so it is told as a reason why God divided people up and gave them different languages and cultures. It was a punishment for their pride. 

But the Pentecost story reverses the Babel story.  It especially reverses the anti-urban bias.  In the gift of the Holy Spirit, God has embraced the variety of human languages and cultures as all good and proper media for expressing human awe at the Power of God. 

During my study leave time this past week, at the Interim Ministry Network annual conference, I heard Diana Butler Bass speak of her study that led to the writing of the book I have been talking about, Christianity for the Rest of Us. She finds that the growing and effective mainline Protestant congregations are the ones which have not succumbed to the mantra of the church growth movement that to grow churches must target only people who are like one another. No, churches that are intentional and faithful to the Pentecost experience of diversity are indeed thriving and growing. 

We’ve got a start.  Look around and be glad for those who are a part of our diversity.  Remember the messages in so many languages on our Peace Pole.  What can we at First Congregational do to build on that diversity?  To be more open to the world around us, and to God’s Spirit who makes us one?  Amen.