Pentecost 2022 - The Birthday of our journey together as new Rector and church family.

Lectionary readings

This prayer is from the great American theologian and longtime Duke professor Stanley Hauerwas: Almighty and ever-loving God, we give you thanks, on this Day of Pentecost, that you did not leave us alone but came to us, in the power of your Holy Spirit, and breathed your life-giving power into every life gathered here this day. You found a way to get to each person here, even when we had no idea of how to get to you. Furthermore, you refused to let us be alone, all locked up in ourselves. You found a way to thrust us into the church, to drag us into fellowship with a group of people whom we would probably never have joined if you had left us to our own devices. By your Spirit you put us into a new, diverse family [not just here, but] one that stretches from one end of the earth to the other. In all this, we give thanks that, in the power of the Holy Spirit, you have saved us from ourselves. Amen!

Pentecost is often referred to as the birthday of the Church. What a perfect day to begin our new ministry together here at St. Andrews—it’s our birthday we’re celebrating too! Pentecost is also often referred to as the reversal of the Tower of Babel. We just heard that story in our Genesis reading: Once upon a time, the whole earth had only one language, and humankind had decided there was nothing they couldn’t do—they could even build a tower to reach into heaven. But God confused their language in their arrogance, and they were scattered over the face of the earth—divided into tribes and races and cultures, into liberals and conservatives, into warring and violent factions who couldn’t understand each other, because, really,  they didn’t want to try to understand each other. Distrust, and fear, and violence, and hatred, that blinded them to the truth that they were all one, diverse, family.

Once upon a time…Once upon a time…Distrust, and fear, and violence, and hatred…it still blinds us to the truth that we are all one diverse family. I don’t need to remind you, after all that we’ve seen in the news every day of these past two weeks, that “once upon a time” is now.

But as Christians we proclaim that it need not be so. We proclaim that unity is not found in uniformity of culture and language and tribe and politics, not found in “sameness”—no, unity is found in praising and serving the God who created us, and the world, full of variety—a God who’s own being so vibrant and diverse that it can only be described mysteriously as three in one. As Christians we proclaim that diversity need not always lead to incoherence—it is part of God’s plan for abundance and fullness of life, and diversity can lead to beauty and wonder and joy. As Christians we are unified by our baptism, and we are blessed with diversity by the varied gifts of the Holy Spirit. And as Christians we know that there is no need to build a tower to heaven, because, in Jesus, God’s dwelling place is here with us.

As he departed from his disciples on the day of Ascension, Jesus told them, “Go into all the world, making disciples of all people…and remember that I am with you always.” My proposal for you today is that Pentecost is not the reversal, not the opposite of Babel, but the redemption of Babel. The people gathered on that first Pentecost day didn’t all start speaking the same language—they understood each other. They didn’t need to build a tower to reach heaven—God came to them where they were! On Pentecost we hear from Peter in Acts that Joel’s “once upon a time” prophecy has become now—Now is the time when God’s Spirit will be poured out upon everyone. Now is the time that children shall prophesy. Now is the time that young men and women shall see visions. Now is the time when old men and women shall dream dreams.

This is why Pentecost is the birthday of the Church! That list of hard-to-pronounce place names in our Acts reading is there to show us that these new disciples, from every corner of the world, were enflamed by the Holy Spirit and empowered to spread the Gospel Good News to our whole family—to everyone, everywhere, in their own language and culture and context—spread the Good News that Death is dead, that Love has won over violence and hatred, that the risen Christ has conquered.

There are many places, many people, many churches, I fear, where the flames of Pentecost—the church’s birthday candles—seem to have blown out, extinguished from hearts and their heads and lives. There are many churches that, as evangelist Brian McLaren says, sadly seem “content with complacently micro-managing their own decline.” At our Pentecost birthday celebration today, I affirm with you that St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Omaha, Nebraska, is not one of those. This place—this family of disciples—has a clear vision that the church is saved for the world, not out of it. This church—that is (as we learned so well during our COVID lockdown time) US—this church, WE—are the place, the people, today, in whom the risen Christ graciously lives and acts, through the power of the Holy Spirit. 

My promise to you as your new rector is that we will never be a church content with complacently micromanaging our own decline. We will offer every prayer with intention and hope and trust in God’s constant, guiding presence. We will preach and hear every sermon, every scripture reading, as an opportunity to listen for the living and vibrant word of God speaking to us. We will share every Eucharist as a communion meal that fills us with sacramental grace and strengthens us to be Christ’s hands and feet in the world. We will learn, and risk, and do, together, what we have promised in our baptismal vows: proclaiming by word and example the Good News of God in Christ, seeking and serving Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves, striving for justice and peace among all people, and respecting the dignity of every human being. We will be light that shines in the world’s darkness.

At the end of today’s Gospel reading we heard some of Jesus’ last teaching to his disciples before his crucifixion: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid” (John 14:27). The peace of Jesus is not the peace of complacency, not a restful, sleepy, peace in a quiet meadow—it is not that kind of peace, not worldly peace. Remember that St. Andrew, when he first met Jesus and asked, “Where are you staying,” had no idea of the journey ahead when Jesus answered, “Come and see.” Andrew only knew that he had to run to his brother Simon and tell him, “We have found the Messiah. We must follow wherever he leads.” The peace of Jesus is not restful and it’s not the peace of knowing the path ahead—for Andrew or for us—it is the peace of knowing that as we walk that path we walk with Jesus, and the Holy Spirit is our guide. We don’t know the path ahead; we don’t know where the Spirit will be leading us—but I promise you that, like St. Andrew and the other disciples, we will walk this road with Jesus together, when it is easy and when it is hard—together, we will accept Jesus’ offer to come, and see, and follow.

My prayer for us this week is from the words of the anthem Michael has chosen for the 10:30 service today, a poem by Michael Dennis Brown. My prayer is that we will all hear in them the voice of our Savior:

Rise up, follow me
Come away, is the call,
With the love in your heart
As the only song.
There is no such beauty
As where you belong.
Rise up, follow me
I will lead you home.

Amen.