May 28th,  Pentecost, Sermon by The Reverend Loree Reed

Acts 2: 1–11
Grace to you and peace in the name of our Lord, Jesus Christ.  Amen.

This morning we are celebrating Pentecost, the festival that comes every year fifty days after Easter, the festival many call the birthday of the Church.  Usually, we try to describe the events of Pentecost through images of wind and fire and multi–lingual speech – which is the way Luke describes the gift of the Spirit to Jesus’ disciples in the Book of Acts.  For these are the images Luke saw and felt and heard that momentous day in Jerusalem when the Holy Spirit descended on those disciples who’d been waiting for the gift, praying together, for days.  So, every year churches remember the event in those same terms – wearing red clothes to symbolize the tongues of fire that descended on each disciple’s head and waving silken streamers on the ends of long wands to simulate the movement and energy of a rushing mighty wind.  Or they’ll have people who speak a variety of languages read the scriptures in their native tongues – to show the diversity of the people who suddenly could hear and understand the Word of God in their own language.
But these are only the outer signs of the gift of the Spirit.  They don’t begin to tell the story of what the Spirit of God did within the people it touched.  And here it’s John’s account that comes closer.  John remembers Jesus at another festival, the Jewish Festival of Tabernacles, crying out, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink.”  Jesus, you see, long before the Spirit was given, was foretelling the Spirit’s arrival, not as a mighty rushing wind or fire — which both have their effect on our outer beings — but as rivers of living water that would satisfy the inner thirst of all who could receive them.  And the people, hearing his promise, suddenly remembered Ezekiel and Joel promising that one day a river of life would flow from the Temple that would refresh and renew the whole world.  They also remembered God’s promises through Isaiah that He would one day provide streams in the desert.  Was this, they wondered, the day when their inner thirsts, their spiritual thirsts would be satisfied?  John tells us that this was not the time, for Jesus had not yet been glorified.  And until he’d been glorified, the Holy Spirit could not come.  But even hearing Jesus’ promises on that day reminded everyone of their own spiritual thirsts.
You and I know something about spiritual thirst in our own day and our own culture.  For whom among us isn’t thirsty for something?  To be human is to be thirsty for something more than we have.  Some, of course, are thirsty for money and the things money can buy, or maybe power or fame.  Superficial things, in other words, that can be satisfied in superficial ways.  But for others – really, for all of us — the yearning goes deeper.  Deep down I think we all want a sense of meaning in our lives.  We all want security and peace.  And we all want community — to feel connected, one to another.  And that, thank goodness, is what Pentecost is all about.
For the gift of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost was, in fact, the stream in the desert that satisfied our inner yearnings, our inner spiritual thirsts.  Anyone who encountered Jesus in the thirty–three years he spent walking on this earth, marveled at his wisdom, his compassion, his mercy.  Anyone who encountered him sensed his holiness.  But relatively few people actually encountered Jesus in his years on this earth.
The gift of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost, however, was different.  Suddenly everyone could experience the Spirit — wherever they found themselves, whenever they realized their need.  Suddenly, everyone willing to receive the Spirit of God had the peace they had longed for, the companionship they had missed, the answers to their questions.  Suddenly, the Spirit was right there in their midst – and they couldn’t get enough of Him!  No wonder three thousand people joined the Church that very first day!
But God’s gift of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost didn’t just give people heavenly companionship, heavenly guidance.  The Spirit also connected them with each other.  For when the Spirit entered each new believer’s heart, they each began to see things in new ways — as God sees them – through eyes of love.  No wonder their sense of community was suddenly enhanced – for everyone they saw, they now loved as another person created in the image of God.  This was the new sense of companionship everyone wanted.  These were the streams in the desert everyone had longed for.
But I’ve saved the best for last!  For the gift of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost wasn’t just a one–time gift, given in Jerusalem in the first century to a lucky few.  The gift of the Holy Spirit of God continues to be given right here, right now – to any who want it, to any who know their need.
And these days, I suppose, no one is more in need than the refugees who are streaming toward our southern borders, seeking asylum.  They are coming – not just from the poverty–stricken areas of South and Central America, but also from Afghanistan and Syria and Ukraine – places so torn apart by war and strife these refugees are risking their lives, their children’s lives and everything they own to find asylum in this country.  And thank God, there are Spirit–filled Christians along those borders who see those refugees – not as nuisances or threats – but as people beloved by God, people created in God’s own image, people — God knows — we can help.  So Christians in many churches along our southern border are helping refugees in any way they can.
But not everyone sees the situation through eyes of love.  Last Monday evening, in fact, two of those beautiful old churches just a mile from the Mexican border, whose members have been serving refugees, St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church and First Presbyterian Church in Douglas, Arizona, were burned to the ground by an arsonist.  Obviously, that’s not good news.  But I was touched by the words of the Episcopal priest, John Caleb Collins, whose church had just been destroyed.  “Our rectory” he said, “and our sanctuary (were) completely burned.  Everything – the icons, the stained glass windows, the vestments, the pews – everything was completely consumed in the flames.  [But] We always pray for the safety of the church,” he said.  “And no injuries were reported last night at either church.  No single person was hurt.  And since the church is the people, our prayers have been answered.  Our sanctuary can be rebuilt.”
This is someone who understands what Pentecost is all about.  Across barriers of language and culture and nationality, the unseen but very real presence of the Spirit opens our hearts to God and to one another.  And even across barriers of hostility, God’s peace is revealed.
As it was this week in Douglas, Arizona, so it is this morning here at All Angels, in Eatonton, Georgia.  The Holy Spirit of God has come to us with a message of transforming power.  And those who are willing to receive it will experience in themselves the love that makes for reconciliation and peace on earth.
To God be the glory for the things he has done !!
Amen.
 
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