One of the most interesting and important religious and cultural
developments in 20th c America was the birth of the Pentecostal
movement. In 1906 at a church on Azusa Street in Los Angeles, William Seymour,
the son of former slaves, sparked a revival that resulted in the modern
Pentecostal movement and the origin of denominations such as the Assemblies of
God, the Church of God, and so on.
The Pentecostal movement was different from other Christian
movements in several ways. First and most obviously, Pentecostals claim to
exercise the so-called “gifts of the Spirit” mentioned in Paul’s first letter
to the Corinthians, especially the gift of speaking in tongues. Second, the
Azusa St movement and many of the groups that sprang from it ordain women and
allow them to preach. Third, the movement began as an interracial movement. Not
only was William Seymour black but his congregation had both black and white
members.
Now, you must be wondering why I’m giving a church history
lecture this morning. My point (and I do have one) is that Pentecostalism
claims to trace its roots right back to the New Testament, and today’s gospel
reading sheds some light on Pentecostalism.
The author we know as Luke not only wrote the third gospel,
he also wrote a second volume – the Acts of the Apostles. Luke had a special
interest in the Holy Spirit. Throughout both Luke’s Gospel and Acts, the Holy
Spirit fills the hearts of believers and empowers them to do and say great
things.
Today’s reading is one of the most powerful examples of what
happens when the Spirit gets a grip on someone.
Mary, the mother of Jesus, has just learned that she is to
be the mother of the one who will redeem the world. Notice that the gospel
reading says that “Mary rose and went with haste.” Why the urgency? Mary is running
for her life; she is scared to death. Immediately before she gets up and runs
to her cousin’s house, an enormously powerful and unearthly being has appeared
to her. Just imagine a flying saucer landing in your back yard and its alien
passenger giving you a message from beyond the stars. This being told Mary that
even though she was unmarried and had never been intimate with a man, she was
going to bear a child. Furthermore, her son will be the Son of God and he will
inherit the throne of David. That would make anyone get up and run for their
life!
So Mary comes to Elizabeth’s house, and when Mary speaks to
Elizabeth, Luke tells us that Elizabeth was filled with the Spirit. Then, Mary
speaks what can only be called a prophetic message: “My soul magnifies the
Lord, and my Spirit rejoices in God my savior…”
And there’s the connection with Pentecostalism – women are
the main actors in this story.
Elizabeth is filled with the Spirit and Mary delivers a prophetic
message. Another important aspect of the Pentecostal movement is that it
originated with and has been most successful among the poor and powerless.
Mary’s song, the Magnificat, is about God lifting up the poor and bringing down
the rich and powerful: Mary sings, “God has cast down the mighty and lifted up
those of low degree; he has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the
rich empty away.”
Perhaps it has always been like that. Perhaps the poor and
those on the margins, such as women, have always been more likely to be filled
with the Spirit and to hear God’s message. Perhaps they have always been
speaking God’s word and we just haven’t been listening.
I am also struck by another thing in this story that seems
to me to have an important message for us at this moment. Mary and Elizabeth
were pregnant. They were both preparing to give birth to their first children.
I have no idea what that feels like, but I imagine that it is both a thing of
great joy and also perhaps a time of some anxiety, perhaps even fear.
There is the fear of childbirth itself and also fear for
one’s child. Up until very recently childhood, especially infancy, was a very
dangerous time. Children routinely died in infancy and early childhood. Pres.
Lincoln lost two children – one before he became president and one while he was
in the White House. Nicholas Cobbs, the first bishop of Alabama, lost one of
his children after he moved to Alabama. Any of you who have traced the
genealogy of your families know that the death of children was extraordinarily
common up until the early 20th century.
Even today parents have many things to fear. Childhood is a
vulnerable time. And the unspeakable shootings in Newtown, CT, just over a week
ago show just how vulnerable children are.
I am not a pacifist, although I believe that Jesus was a
pacifist. And I expect some day to have to explain to our Lord why I did not
oppose violence the way that he did. But I am convinced that the way to protect
our children is not by putting armed guards in our schools. Indeed, I am
convinced that that would make them more vulnerable, not less vulnerable.
We live in a violent world and childhood seems to be an
especially violent time. The world of childhood is saturated with violence in
the forms of video games, movies, and television. We need to do something to
reduce all forms of violence.
Parents, teachers, and clergy should do everything in their
power to protect children, but we can never protect them from all dangers and risks, nor should we. Learning how to
manage risk and even danger are parts of growing up. Children have to learn how
to manage risk from crossing the street to driving cars.
I believe that the way to protect our children is by
creating the world that Mary dreamed about in her song, her Magnificat – a
world in which the poor are lifted up and the hungry are fed. Will it be a
perfectly safe world? No, of course not. God does not promise us safety; God
promises us a good world and summons us to join with him in creating it.
So, I invite you to sing and pray Mary’s Magnificat. In particular,
I invite you to pray for our children who are still too often the most
vulnerable among us.
I want to conclude with a prayer for children by Marian
Wright Edelman.
We
pray for children
Who sneak popsicles before supper,
Who erase holes in math workbooks,
Who can never find their shoes.
Who sneak popsicles before supper,
Who erase holes in math workbooks,
Who can never find their shoes.
And
we pray for those
Who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
Who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
Who are born in places we wouldn't be caught dead,
Who never go to the circus,
Who live in an X-rated world.
Who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
Who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
Who are born in places we wouldn't be caught dead,
Who never go to the circus,
Who live in an X-rated world.
We
pray for children
Who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
Who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money.
And we pray for those
Who never get dessert,
Who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
Who watch their parents watch them die,
Who can't find any bread to steal,
Who don't have any rooms to clean up,
Whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
Whose monsters are real.
Who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
Who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money.
And we pray for those
Who never get dessert,
Who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
Who watch their parents watch them die,
Who can't find any bread to steal,
Who don't have any rooms to clean up,
Whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
Whose monsters are real.
We
pray for children
Who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
Who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
Who like ghost stories,
Who shove dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out the tub,
Who get visits from the tooth fairy,
Who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
Who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,
Whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry.
Who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
Who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
Who like ghost stories,
Who shove dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out the tub,
Who get visits from the tooth fairy,
Who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
Who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,
Whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry.
And
we pray for those
Whose nightmares come in the daytime,
Who will eat anything,
Who have never seen a dentist,
Who aren't spoiled by anybody,
Who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
Who live and move, but have no being.
Whose nightmares come in the daytime,
Who will eat anything,
Who have never seen a dentist,
Who aren't spoiled by anybody,
Who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
Who live and move, but have no being.
We
pray for children who want to be carried and for those who must,
For those we never give up on and for those who don't get a second chance.
For those we smother ... and for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it.
For those we never give up on and for those who don't get a second chance.
For those we smother ... and for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it.
Let’s
pray for the children and give them all a better world. Amen.
