God pours out his spirit upon all people – no exceptions
Day of Pentecost
19 May 2024
The Rev. Margaret Dyer-Chamberlain
May the words of our mouths, the meditations of our hearts, and the actions of our lives be acceptable in your sight, O God our strength and our redeemer.
Good Morning, Holy Innocents.
And Happy Pentecost. As you may know, Pentecost is sometimes referred to as the birthday of the church. At St. Aidan’s, where I also serve, there is a tradition of having a birthday sheet cake from Safeway on this day ---- and there’s a story that goes along with the cake, which is that one year, instead of the cake saying “Happy Birthday Church” – as was the custom – when the box was opened with a flourish, it turned out to say “Happy Birthday Chuck.” Secular San Francisco at its best.
The Pentecost story that we hear today in our Gospel is not exactly a simple, gentle, joyful birthday is it? We hear about the Holy Spirit descending in the rush of a violent wind. There is a bewildered crowd, and everyone is confused because suddenly the diverse group of people present on the scene are speaking in their own languages. People are amazed and perplexed, some in fact are sneering and not believing what is going on. There are lots of questions and differences of opinion.
At the same time – there is the sense of a strong commonality in this Pentecost story. The people are “all together in one place.” All of the people are filled with the Holy Spirit and able to speak – not just some of them, all of them. All of them are speaking about “God’s deeds of power.” All wonder the same thing – “What does this mean?”
And Peter gives the people a bit of a sermon, doesn’t he? One commentary I read noted that “Peter got a bit of holy boldness” in talking to the people. In his beautiful and poetic Pentecost sermon, Peter really brings it home. He says that God will pour out his spirit upon all people – not some people, but all people, that this will enable young people to see visions and old people to dream dreams, and most importantly – at the end he says – “Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”
This is a powerful message of love and hope and inclusion and truth. And from Jesus’ words in the Gospel reading, we know there is more to come. “I still have many things to say to you” Jesus says, “but you cannot bear them now.” So we get the sense that Jesus’ message, and the presence of the Holy Spirit, will be unfolding in our lives and in the world starting from this Pentecost moment. From this dramatic new beginning.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what this message means to us in our time and place. And I can’t help but think that there’s something here about how we are to reach out to one another across divisions, and to listen to one another even when we might not understand the language of one another’s words or hearts. There is such extreme conflict in our world right now, and patient listening is not always valued very much. We aren’t always centered on new beginnings or on working to understand one another. But if we can keep our grounding in God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit, maybe we have a chance. Perhaps the peace of Christ can bring us the hope that we need. [Our reading from Paul’s letter to the Romans this morning reminds us of this very fact – “For in hope we were saved.”
All of this caused me to reflect about times in my life when I didn’t understand another person or persons, and what I learned in those moments. I’m a believer in sharing our stories, and so I’ll bring one to you.
Bob mentioned a few weeks ago that he is a lifeguard, and I also was a lifeguard through high school and college. I taught mostly children how to swim, and a few adults, at the local public pool - in my hometown of Cleveland, Ohio.
There is one family, in this context, that I’ll never forget. They were Mom and Dad and 5 year old Adam. Adam was a sweet shy little boy who was 100% terrified of the pool and not at all interested in learning to swim. Like barely able to put his feet in the water or splash water on his face. He was too big to be in the baby pool, but the vista of the 3 foot deep shallow end was completely overwhelming to him.
We didn’t use the term “helicopter parents” at that time, but Adam’s Mom and Dad fit the bill. They both attended every swim lesson (which by the way, doesn’t usually help in teaching children to swim….) and they told me in no uncertain terms that Adam HAD to learn how to swim this summer.
It was very slow going, and we added more lessons than originally anticipated which I didn’t mind since lesson earnings were helping me pay for college. I remember that I conferred with my fellow guards about tips and tricks. I don’t recall that they had much to add other than – take it step by step. Which is, by the way, good advice for just about anything in life.
Long story short, at last there was a morning when Adam was brave enough to try a front float, with my assistance, and at a certain point he turned his face toward me and then, he did it – he started to swim. Not a perfect stroke by any means, but he swam. I thought – thank goodness, now perhaps these parents will relax a bit.
What came next was something I didn’t expect. After much celebrating and when the lesson was over, Adam’s Dad approached me and said, “Do you know why we wanted Adam to learn how to swim so badly?” I think I mumbled something about, it’s good to know how to swim for safety reasons, or if want to go boating on Lake Erie or something like that. “No”, Adam’s father said - “We grew up in Mississippi and when we were children we were not welcome at pools because we are Black. Neither of us had the opportunity to learn to swim. It’s really important to us that Adam has a different life than that.”
I share this story because it made me realize just how much we humans often don’t know about one another. I taught Adam to swim for a whole summer and never once did I realize what was on his parents’ hearts. I didn’t know why this swimming thing was so important to them. I didn’t see it. Nor did Adam’s parents tell me – and that happens too doesn’t it? Sometimes we don’t share our stories, and so we become mysteries, in a way, to one another.
At the end of the day, I thank God that somehow or other I was able to stick with that little child – Adam - in the swimming pool – and that Adam and his parents were able to stick with me, even though we were, in many ways, mysteries to one another. All of that, I think, has something to do with the Holy Spirit. We weren’t speaking the same language, that’s for sure, but at the same time, we were together in one place and we were watched over by God.
So back to Pentecost. Pentecost reminds us to try to channel Peter’s holy boldness on this day of new birth for our church. Pentecost reminds us that God pours out his spirit upon all people – no exceptions. Pentecost reminds us that God invites us to see visions and dream dreams, and to know that everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved. As we renew our Baptismal vows today, we are reminded that we do all of this – with God’s help.
And finally, Pentecost reminds us that we are on this journey of life together – and that God is counting on us to reach out to one another with understanding and love and grace. Here, in this house of God called Holy Innocents, and also in our families and neighborhoods and workplaces and in our fractured world – everywhere. And particularly, I would add, when we face the hard times – when we face division and disagreement and pain. Because when we reach out to one another with love, there is joy and there is hope.
I’d like to close with a quote from Frederick Buenchner, from the Hungering Dark. He wrote,
“The paradox is that part of what binds us closest together as human beings and makes it true that no person is an island is the knowledge that in another way every person is an island… So when we meet as strangers, when even friends look like strangers, it is good to remember that we need each other greatly you and I, more than much of the time we dare to imagine, more than much of the time we dare to admit.
Island calls to island across the silence, and once, in trust, the real words come, a bridge is built and love is done –not sentimental, emotional love, but love that is pontifex, bridge-builder. Love that speaks the holy and healing word which is: God be with you, stranger who are no stranger. I wish you well. The islands become an archipelago, a continent, become a kingdom whose name is the Kingdom of God.”
And so, I pray for us that we may we come together, strangers who are no strangers, to build up the beloved community and, along the way, to catch glimpses of the kingdom of God.
Amen.