The first
year that I taught, one of my students was a young man named Hayes. I found out
that he was a Pentecostal and decided to pull his leg. One day after class I
said, “Hayes, do you go to a Pentecostal church?” “Yes, Dr. Vaughn,” he
replied. “So does that mean that you speak in tongues?” A little tentatively,
he said, “Yes, I do.” Then I said, “Do you think you can satisfy the university’s
foreign language requirement by speaking in tongues?” I’m pretty sure Hayes was
speechless at that point. I don’t think he could even speak in tongues!
The story
of the Day of Pentecost is one of the most spectacular stories in scripture. It
was a day of wonders. A mighty wind swept through the streets of Jerusalem;
tongues of flame came down upon the heads of the disciples; and they all began
to proclaim the good news in every languages upon the face of the earth.
But
spectacular as Pentecost is, it is a very un-Episcopalian festival.
If tongues
of fire appeared on your heads, I’m pretty sure that the first reaction of the
vestry would be to call the Church Insurance Corporation to make sure our
premiums were up to date.
Do you
know comedian Robin Williams’ “Top Ten Reasons to be an Episcopalian”? – 1. . You
can believe in dinosaurs; 2. Free wine on Sunday; 3. All of the pageantry and
none of the guilt; and so on- I imagine that most Episcopalians would like to
add “No speaking in tongues” to their top ten reasons for being Episcopalian.
But we
need Pentecost. Pentecost completes the work of Easter. The resurrection of
Jesus was a great and joyful miracle, but it is not enough by itself to explain
the explosive growth of the early church. Both the gospels and the Book of Acts
tell us that even after the resurrection, the disciples huddled together in
fear and uncertainty until the Risen Christ sent the Holy Spirit upon them and
gave them an inner source of strength and power.
I want to
focus on three miracles of Pentecost. First, the ability to speak new languages.
Second, the ability to hear what other people are saying. And third, the liberation
of God.
First, on
Pentecost the disciples of Jesus were given the miraculous ability to speak in
other languages. All the clergy I know love the feast of Pentecost because we
enjoy watching the layreader trying to pronounce the strange words in today’s
reading – Parthians, Medes, Elamites, Pontus, Phrygia, and so on.
But those
are the names of all the nations who were present in Jerusalem for the feast of
Pentecost. Before Pentecost was a Christian festival, it was a Jewish festival.
In fact, it still is a Jewish festival, but our Jewish sisters and brothers
call it Shavuot, the “feast of weeks”
and it takes place seven weeks after Passover. Shavuot or the feast of weeks is
one of the three “feasts of pilgrimage” on which Jews were to go to the holy
city of Jerusalem if at all possible.
So when
the Holy Spirit came down upon the disciples, Jerusalem was full of Jews from
other parts of the worlds, Jews whose first language was something other than
Hebrew or Aramaic.
We live in
a world that is a lot like Jerusalem on that first Pentecost. The world is
suddenly a very small place. Our neighbors are as likely to speak Bengali or
Yoruba or Quechua as they are to speak English. It is no longer enough for us
to proclaim the gospel just in English. We need another Pentecost to give us
the power to proclaim preach the gospel in new ways so that the world can hear
the good news that Jesus gave us to proclaim.
But
learning a foreign language is the least of our problems.
If someone who had never visited an
Episcopal Church, especially someone with no knowledge of the Christian faith,
walked into a staff meeting or vestry meeting at Christ Church, they might
think that we were all a little tipsy, even if it was only 9 o’clock in the
morning. They might even think that we were speaking in an unknown language.
They would hear us speak of the Eucharist
and the liturgy, the collect of the day (accent on the first syllable, please)
and the prayer of humble access. They might hear me complain that the acolyte
and the crucifer were whispering during the canticle. Or they might hear a
conversation about rectors, permanent deacons, transitional deacons, diocesan
bishops, suffragan bishops, bishops coadjutor, canons to the ordinary, canons
to the EXTRAORDINARY, and so on.
If you want to become an Episcopalian,
you have to learn a whole new language. Of course, to a greater or lesser
degree, every family has its own language, and Episcopalians are a family – a fighting,
feuding, dysfunctional family, but still a family.
But that prompts me to wonder: Why would
anyone want to join the Episcopal Church if we make it so difficult for them to
get involved with us? Of course, the esoteric language we speak might be part
of the attraction for some. Learning to speak “Episcopal-ese” is kind of like
learning the secret handshake or the code word.
The second miracle of Pentecost was the power
to hear what others were saying. Listen again to this verse from the second
chapter of Acts: “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…”
The gift of tongues, the gift of miraculous
utterance is all very well and good, but it does no good unless it is
accompanied by the gift of understanding, and I believe that this is the
greater and more important gift.
We not only need to proclaim the gospel,
we also need to listen to and hear what others are saying. Are we attentive to
the world around us? Do we hear what people are asking for? Are our ears really
open to cries of the poor and disenfranchised?
By
the waters of Babylon,
there
we sat down and wept,
when
we remembered Zion.
On
the willows there
we
hung up our lyres.
For
there our captors
required
of us songs,
and
our tormentors, mirth,
saying,
"Sing us one of the songs of Zion!"
How
shall we sing the LORD's song
in
a foreign land?
We may not be so different from the
Jewish captives in Babylon. A lot of us act as though we can visit God in
church once a week and get along perfectly fine without God the rest of the
week.
One of the weaknesses of the Episcopal
Church is that we have been the church of a class, the church of the one
percent, the affluent, and we have done a poor job of reaching out to and
including people who are different from us.
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.
The message of
Pentecost is radically inclusive. The good news is not just for people who
speak English; it is for people of every language and culture. The gospel not
only transcends language and culture but transcends the barriers of economics,
gender, and age. Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy. Your old and your
young shall see visions. And even slaves shall speak the prophetic word.
The mighty wind of
Pentecost overthrows our prejudices about who is in and who is out, who is clean
and who is unclean, who should preach and who should just sit and listen. Prior
to Pentecost, slaves had been forbidden to speak unless they were spoken to;
women had not dared to speak to anyone outside their immediate family. But the
wind of Pentecost swept aside those constricting beliefs. The prophetic Spirit
was poured into women. Inspired by the Spirit, slaves spoke out and defied
their masters. The Spirit is no longer confined to the young; even the elderly
are given new songs to sing.
Week before last I shared with the staff
my vision of where I would like Christ Church to go. It is based on the last
words of Matthew’s gospel, Jesus’ so-called “great commission”: “Go therefore
and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and
of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I
have commanded you…”
Repeat those with me: make disciples,
all nations, baptize, and teach.
