When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
Acts 2:1-21
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. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”
But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: ‘In the last days it will be, God declares, 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. And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist. The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day. Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’
My sermon from Pentecost Sunday (May 19, 2024) on Acts 2:1-21.
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What was your first summer blockbuster movie?
I don’t mean a movie your parents brought you to because they were embarrassed to be seen watching The Avengers all by themselves. I’m talking about the first summer movie that, for a few months, became your entire personality. For me, my first summer blockbuster movie was Jurassic Park. And my brother and I annoyed our parents for weeks asking them to drive us to the theater over and over again so we could see it. It wasn’t long before I memorized entire scenes from the script and even today, when my car is stuck in traffic during a heavy rain, I can almost see a Tyrannosaurus Rex lurking just out of sight. Summer blockbusters are designed to overwhelm every one of our senses with incredible special effects – transporting us into a new reality where anything is possible. And when we walk out of the theater into the warm summer evening, these experiences linger with the hope that our present can be so much more.
Now today’s reading from the books of Acts is, like a summer blockbuster, full of incredible special effects. It begins with Jesus’ disciples hanging out in the city of Jerusalem waiting to see what might come next. The city, at that specific time, had begun to fill with religious pilgrims hoping to celebrate the festival of Pentecost in the place God promised to be. The word Pentecost, in ancient Greek, means “fifthieth” and marked a Jewish celebration held 50 days after Passover. In the beginning, the festival gave thanks to God for all the food the earth produced. But over time, that thanks grew to include all of God’s promises too. People from across the ancient Mediterranean world and beyond converged on the city. And Jesus’ friends, who had already arrived in the city for the festival of Passover, sort of just stayed there while everything else swirled about them. They weren’t really visitors to the city nor were they planning, at that moment, to make it their home. Yet they still felt the need to wait and so they did, finding a place where they could stay. Jesus’ friends were still worried that Roman soldiers could show up at their door at any time. So they planned on keeping a low profile while figuring out what to do next. It was then when, over the bustling noise of the city, they heard the sound of a gentle breeze. At first, they probably thought nothing of it but it soon grew louder and louder. The wind, it seems, was on a mission – picking its way through the city to find their building alone. And when it roared through with the intensity of a tornado or a hurricane, this summer blockbuster special effect had only just begun. The disciples looked around and saw bits of fire – like the wicks of candles burning – dancing over each one of their heads. These disciples were wrapped in something incredible that kept swirling around them. And if that wasn’t enough, these fishermen, tax collectors, men, women, young, and old who mostly came from small towns and villages scattered around the Sea of Galilee – everyone could suddenly speak as if they came from somewhere else.
Now if we could choose our own kind of holy experience with God, something as powerful as Pentecost might be high on our list. We’d love for our faith to be supported by a summer blockbuster kind of moment that we could share with everyone. What that might look like varies from person to person and it probably depends on whatever we’re going through at the time. Yet having a moment with some incredibly divine special effects would, for a bit at least, make it seem as if anything is possible. So often the God we seek and the God we expect is a God with overwhelming power, strength, and might. And while the Pentecost story implies that this is who our God is, when we only focus on the wind, the fire, and the amazing languages the disciples could speak – we miss what made this moment truly special. What they saw, with the fire and the wind and the gathering of so many different kinds of people – that truly was divine. But in the ancient world, people sort of expected that stuff like this would occasionally happen. To them, the world was full of heavenly special effects full of wonder and mystery. Yet what surprised these pilgrims about this moment wasn’t that the disciples could suddenly speak so many different languages. What truly overwhelmed their sense of wonder was how specific those languages actually were. God’s story of love, grace, and mercy as lived out in Jesus Christ was shared with them in the language they first heard as a baby in a crib. When they first entered the world, those who were excited to see this new life among them uttered words of love and hope in the dialect and languages they knew best. God wanted those who had not yet met Jesus face-t-face, and even those who weren’t in the neighborhood when Jesus was hung on the Cross, to know how the love they were meant to experience in their very first moments was the same kind of love God always had for them. It wasn’t the special effects of wind and fire and words that blew everyone away; it was how these words – rooted in a holy love – came to them in a very unexpected way.
Now in my office is a black binder full of bulletins from many of the Interfaith Thanksgiving services that have happened in our area since 1968. These special events serve as opportunities for different faith traditions to show one another what their language of holy love looks like. While scanning through the binder last fall while making plans for the service we hosted last November, I noticed how Doris’ name appeared unexpectedly in one of the bulletins. In 1976, St Paul’s Episcocpal Church in Montvale was hosting the service and they invited congregations to bring with them different pieces of cloth symbolizing who they were. Those pieces of cloth would .be used as a kind of banner and some words about that piece of cloth were presented by someone from each congregation. Some faith communities included pieces of fabric highlighting how different religious rituals expressed who they knew God to be while others highlighted their history and their identity in our religiously diverse neighborhood. When I scrolled down to see what CLC did, I saw how Doris Crouse presented what I think is an awesome encapsulation of what Pentecost is meant to be about. “Our church has chosen for its symbolic cloth a garment from one of our members who has needed much care. We are trying to put into practice the words of James in the second chapter, verses 14 through 17, where he speaks of caring for one another. This ministry of love, through caring for our church family and others in times of need, is one way of expressing our thanks to God for all [that God] has done for us.”
Now on a day when we celebrate God’s special effects, we also give thanks for the effect our love, care, and faithfulness has on all our lives. We often look for things like tongues of fire to reveal who God is; yet God chooses to show up in the ways we let one another know how much we are loved. This love is not easy since it requires us to be with one another during times that are tense, difficult, and full of wonder. But this love we get to share is a love letting our friends, family members, and even strangers know how there is always a place for them at the foot of the Cross. I can’t imagine a more fitting way to celebrate Pentecost than honoring a disciple who continues to live that kind of faith out loud. Doris has, in her own way, been a kind of blockbuster who has let you know how much you mean to God. Pentecost isn’t only supposed to be about those special surprising effects that impacted a group of disciples 2000 years ago. Pentecost is always a celebration of who we get to be since we are graced by love, mery, and faith. Each one of you will have opportunities during our luncheon after worship to let Doris know in one-on-one conversations about how your mutual love has made an impact on your life. And we, along with Doris, David, their entire family, and all who call her friend – will continue to keep Pentecost alive by living out a holy kind of love that will never end.
Amen.