Sunday May 24, 2015
Acts 2:1-21
Ireland has been in the news a lot in the past few days. We’ve been hearing about the country’s referendum on same gender marriage, how historic it was, both in Ireland and around the world as it’s the first time in the world that a country has had a popular vote to determine whether same gender marriage will be allowed. And yesterday, we heard that the results were overwhelmingly in favour of making that change. And so, as an Affirming congregation, we celebrate that with the Irish people.
And then also this week Prince Charles and the Duchess of Cornwall visited Northern Ireland, shook hands with Sinn Feinn leader Gerry Adams, and visited the Corrymeela Peace and Reconciliation Centre. There are a number of news articles and videos online if you want to see the highlights.
And of course, Ireland and Northern Ireland is still fresh in my mind because of the recent pilgrimage to Corryneela that 13 of us undertook, and the time that Pat, Alana and I spent touring around before and after. On our last night, we were on a city bus from our hotel near the Dublin airport to a downtown pub where we were to meet Pat’s brother for dinner. When we asked the bus driver where we should get off, the bus driver said “Hoi street. Pat said “Hoi street?” and the driver said “Hoi street.” Pat said “Hoi street.” And the driver, who was getting a bit annoyed, said “Hoi street.” And then with his hands said “hoi, low.”
We are used to our own language, our own pronunciations, the quirks and nuances of how our language works. So, when faced with a variation on a simple word like “high”, we are discombobulated and confused. Of course it’s the bus driver with the accent, not us.
And that’s just a variation on a word in the same language. How many of us will admit to feeling totally uncomfortable when in the midst of hearing a language that we don’t understand spoken. I certainly do. Whether it is a language of words, or a language of symbols and rituals like in the church, or a language of science or a language of a different profession other than my own, it can feel alienating and upsetting.
The biblical story of Pentecost leaves it open as to which is the greater miracle – the miracle that is the speaking by those inside in different languages, or the miracle that those who were outside heard and understood what was being spoken in their own language. Whatever happened that day has certainly been the subject of much conversation over the past nearly two thousand years. But whatever happened, it was something extraordinary that we are told was a touchstone moment in the early Jesus movement.
In the first chapter of the book of Acts, we hear that Jesus has told his disciples to stay in Jerusalem to wait for the promise of God, when they will be baptized not with water, but with the Holy Spirit. As we heard in the children’s story, other Jews from all over have also gathered in Jerusalem to commemorate the Hebrew observance of the Feast of Weeks, also called Pentecost. Initially this was a celebration of harvest, but in later times the festival focused more on Jewish religious history. After the destruction of the Jerusalem temple in CE 70, the feast was transformed into an observance of the giving of God’s law on Mount Sinai, which is foundational to the community of Israel. The writer of Acts describes God’s giving of the Spirit on this day as the foundation of a new community living in covenant with God.[1]
Now, I’ve thought about this story at least once a year for the past 20 years or so, and have taught many Sunday School classes and probably even preached a sermon or two on the passage. My focus has always been on that charismatic event inside the room. I have focused on whatever happened that made that little group of frightened Jesus followers come alive with their faith so that they would go out into the world with courage and conviction. Which is what they did. They started a movement.
But I am embarrassed to say that not until this week have I ever given much thought to those who were outside listening. We are told there was such a ruckus inside that people gathered round to see what was happening. And that’s when they heard their own language being spoken. And they said – “how can these Galileans be speaking in a language that we understand?”
Think about that. The symbolism of that is incredible. David R. Henson says “… The God of Pentecost doesn’t have an official language … that is the shocking revelation of the day of Pentecost. … it is the windswept protest of a borderless God. … God speaks against humanity’s tendency to force unity through sameness and exclusivity … God spoke outside the walls of temple religiosity … outside the walls of political power and outside the bounds of respectability … God spoke in the streets.” He goes on to say “… on Pentecost God gives the Divine voice to the languages of a bunch of nobodies and a crowd of commoners. It is an act of liberation, both for humankind and God.”[2]
I remember years ago when I first started using movies and tv shows and popular music as ways to enter into conversations of meaning with students, and I heard a conference speaker once say “you know, there is a whole conversation about God going on outside of the church.” I needed to realize that the goal of the conversation wasn’t about bringing people into the church, but about hearing what God was saying outside of the structures with which I was familiar. What was God saying to me through the conversations outside of the walls of my faith?
Christine Valters Paintner says that we live in chaotic times, and it’s easy enough to find ourselves confused and fearful. She says that we may want to
“… gather in an upper room of our lives with our closest friends and close the door on a troubled world.” But she also goes on to say that Peter assures us that all will be called to dream dreams and visions, and be attentive to the signs and wonders around us. Paintner defines conversion as “making a commitment always to be surprised by God.”[3] What a great definition.
Well, I wonder how the Catholic Church in Ireland is feeling this weekend? The winds of change have certainly blown on that island this weekend.
An article in the Irish Times yesterday by Una Mullally said “This referendum was always going to live or die on turnout. A high turnout would mean the dedicated base of No voters would be overwhelmed. In the final couple of weeks of the campaign, it was really about getting the vote out. .. When friends were coming back from canvasses … saying everyone was positive on the doors, when friends were flying home from Toronto and San Francisco and Turkey, when stories of grandparents voting Yes were told, when the dozen that used to show up for a canvass turned into over a hundred, when people were registering to vote in droves, when the queues were forming outside the polling stations. … The decency of the Irish people was not limited to the liberal leafy suburbs of Dublin, nor the solidarity from the flats, but that decency came from the cliffs of Donegal, the lakes of Cavan, the farmyards of Kildare, the lanes of Kerry. … this was a people’s campaign … A lot of new emigrants wanted the chance to partake in forming the future of a new country they want to come home to some day. It was about mothers and fathers valuing their gay children. It was about teachers valuing their gay pupils. It was about clergy members stepping away from a meanness that can sometimes preoccupy the Catholic Church and saying no, we want to preach love.”[4]
In a BBC news item, the Archbiship of Dublin said that if the referendum was an affirmation of the views of young people, the church had a huge task in front of it. “I think really the church needs to do a reality check,” he said.[5]
Well, yes. That is a bit of an understatement. I don’t want to throw stones at the Catholic Church. God knows, we in the United Church of Canada have our own issues to face, nationally, regionally, right here in this faith community – dwindling numbers, crumbling buildings, very few skills in communicating who we are and what we do to those outside our walls. Who are the folks standing outside our doors toay, wondering what the heck we are doing in here? What would it look like for them to hear the gospel in their own language? Can you imagine them saying “how can these Christians be speaking a language we understand? What conversations are we missing out on outside of these walls, and what difference might those conversations make to this community? Have we courage enough to be converted, to be surprised by God? These are questions for any community of faith on this day of Pentecost. Thanks be to God.
1
[1] Seasons of the Spirit, Adult, LE/11 p.85
[2] http://www.patheos.com/blogs/davidhenson/2015/05/the-divine-protest-of-pentecost-the-politics-of-language-and-respectability-homily-for-pentecost-year-b/
[3] http://www.patheos.com/Progressive-Christian/Pilgrimage-of-Resurrection-Christine-Valters-Paintner-05-20-2015.html
[4] Una Mulally, Decency of Irish not limited to liberal Dublin, The Irish Times, May 25/15
[5] www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-32858501