in our own language (a sermon on Acts 2:1-21)

It was after Jesus ascended into heaven that the apostles - the sent ones - were gathered together in Jerusalem. It was a busy time in the city - seven weeks, or 50 days after Passover was the Feast of Weeks, and faithful Jews from all over made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem to celebrate the grain harvest and the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. Before his ascension, Jesus had told his friends and followers that he would be sending an advocate, the Holy Spirit, to be with them. And yet they did not know when, or how, that gift would arrive.


We have young artists illustrating the first reading all summer -
thanks to Reece G. for this image for Pentecost!

It was not subtle, turns out. As they sat together in a house, the Holy Spirit was revealed to them in the sound of a powerful, violent wind; in the sight of tongues of fire hovering over each of them; and in the new-found ability to speak in other, unfamiliar languages. 

It was this sound - the bewildering, chaotic, amazing sound of different languages and dialects weaving together through the air, floating from the windows and doors of that house - that caused a crowd to gather there. The people couldn’t believe it. They were still in Jerusalem, right? How was it, then, that the message they heard came in the language of their own homeland? People from the places we know as Afghanistan and Turkmenistan, Iran and Iraq, Israel and Palestine; people from many parts of Turkey, including near Istanbul and Ankara; from Egypt and northern Libya, people visiting from Rome in Italy, from the island of Crete or from Saudi Arabia - each of them heard these words about God’s deeds of power in the familiar, comforting tones of their mother tongue.

It is through this experience, as well as in the content of Peter’s speech, that the Holy’s Spirit’s goal and promise is made known. The story of God - God’s power, and love, and mercy - this story isn’t just for a small group of people from one distinct place. No, the story of God is for all people. And not just all people, but all people on their own terms. It does not need to be mediated, or translated imperfectly so that the visitors get the gist of it, kind of. It doesn’t rely on any power brokers to disperse or gatekeep as they see fit. Instead, like the prophet Joel writes, in the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh. All flesh! People of all ages and abilities, of all languages and homelands, of all identities and statuses. God’s Spirit, poured out - to call, gather, enlighten, and make holy the whole Church; to bind us together as one, to unite us in and through our diversity. 

In our wider cultural conversations about diversity, equity, and inclusion, we often hear the language of “giving a seat at the table". The idea is a good step. There have been countless times throughout history that conversation takes place and decisions are made totally in ignorance of the affected parties. And yet, as some have noted, when you get a seat at the table, it’s still someone else’s table. They get to set the agenda, and cast the vision, and decide which voices to listen to. 

In the Pentecost story, we see the way that God the Holy Spirit makes her own table. At this table, all have a place. All have a place to belong, and a story to hear, and calling to follow. 

The surprise of Pentecost, the thing that leaves the people feeling bewildered and astonished and amazed is not the flashiness of dancing tongues of fire, or the arresting roar of the wind. The thing that leaves the people feeling bewildered and astonished and amazed is the simple, powerful experience of hearing about God’s deeds of power and might in their own language - the language whispered in their ear as little ones as their mother rocked them to sleep, the one called out by their friends, the one that passed down stories from generation to generation. There, in that unfamiliar place, far from home, God’s presence, and power, and welcome was made known - not to a small group of people who tried hard to hear it, but to all people, caught by surprise. 

We, too, have received the outpouring of the Spirit in the waters of baptism. In word and water, bread and wine God’s presence and power and welcome are made known to us. In language and imagery we can connect with and understand, God’s story is received and shared in expected and unexpected ways. What a gift it is that God comes to us and does whatever is necessary so that all of us - regardless of language or culture or age or ability or anything else - all of us can receive and understand the glorious good news of God’s power and love. 

 

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