Sermon - Day of Pentecost

The Rev. Allan Sandlin, associate rector
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Our children, Thomas and Lizzy, grew up while our family was living in Germany. For both of them, I suspect, German is as much their mother-tongue as English. So imagine what it was like for Lizzy that day we first visited the school she now attends. Her eyes lit up when she walked into the classroom and recognized that the 12 year-old students were all speaking German with their teacher. She heard the language of her childhood, the language in which she first learned to read, the language the children in her Sunday School class spoke when the adults left the room. I don’t know exactly what she was feeling that day, but it might have felt like she’d come home.

What does it mean to hear a story told in your mother-tongue when you’re accustomed to hearing things through someone else’s culture, through someone else’s native language?

This morning, we’ve listened again to the Pentecost story from the book of Acts. Things started off normally enough but then people began to stand and read the lesson in other languages, mostly in their mother-tongue. Several languages, interrupting each other, all at once. What a great noise!

It gives us, perhaps, a glimpse of the chaos, the energy, the surprise of the first Christian Pentecost. Hearing Albert read in his mother tongue, Krio, and Cara read in Vietnamese and Gerritt in Dutch also reminds us that at Holy Trinity, our home countries and our mother-tongues are not all the same. It’s a gift, this diversity.

But don’t think for a moment this was meant to be a re-enactment of the first Pentecost. No. That was something entirely different.

The gospel according to Luke ends with the ascension of Jesus. The beginning of the book of Acts, written by the same author who wrote Luke’s gospel, picks up the story line. We find the disciples, now reconstituted as the 12 with the addition of Matthias (chosen, you’ll recall, by rather dubious means), gathered in a house somewhere in Jerusalem.

Some of Jesus’ last words to them still echo in their hearts: Don’t leave Jerusalem. Wait there for the promise of the Father. You’ll receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you and then you’ll be my witnesses. So now, ten days after Jesus’ Ascension, they were probably beginning to wonder how long the wait was going to be, maybe fear had begun to creep back into their hearts and minds.

And then this wild, strange thing happened. First came the sound, without warning, like a gale force wind. Then, like a wildfire, tongues of flame spread and danced above their heads. And the Holy Spirit filled them, giving them the ability to open their mouths and speak in languages none of them had studied in school.

I suppose the windows of the house must have been open, because a crowd soon gathered outside. Included in that crowd were Jews from at least 12 different nations, all living there in Jerusalem. They were residents of the city, not just in town for the festival of Pentecost. But Jerusalem wasn’t home to them—they understood the language spoken by the natives but it wasn’t their mother-tongue. It must have taken their breath away when each of them understood the disciples to be speaking in their own language. The crowd from Elam heard Elametic. (I made that word up…) Those who hailed from Pamphylia heard Pamphylian.

After the noise died down and after the disciples finished speaking about God’s deeds of power, the crowd was awe-struck. Amazed and perplexed. Some of them seemed curious, willing to ask questions about what this might mean, wondering together at the very mystery of these simple, unsophisticated fishermen suddenly able to speak a new language with eloquence. Some of them were open and wanted to hear more.

But not all of them. These others scoffed and turned away in disgust. Their minds and hearts slammed shut as they sneered ah, they’re just a bunch of babbling drunks.

And that’s all it took. Peter stood up and found his voice. With strength and confidence, he began this passionate, articulate sermon. Keep in mind, this is Peter speaking. Peter who a short while ago was denying that he even knew Jesus. Now he speaks with assurance. The part of his speech you heard this morning, is only the prelude to a mighty powerful sermon, a sermon that will reach the hearts of many in that crowd. If you were to read all the way to the end of the sermon, you’d know that 3,000 people were baptized as a result of hearing it. Not even Rick Warren can match that.

No one expected Peter to be able to stand up and preach like he did. But here he was, stepping up to the task with authority and strength. Where’d he get that power? Where’d it come from?

And where did those disciples learn to speak languages they’d never even overheard in casual conversation? Where’d they find the power to speak so fluently and tell God’s story in language that sounded like a clear bell? How are people ever enabled to do things they should never in a thousand years be able to do? And over the air comes the refrain You’ll receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you and then you’ll be my witnesses.

Of course, there are different ways of witnessing. In the telling of the Pentecost story this morning, the first language we heard was not actually heard at all. You saw it. Ginny moved to the center of the aisle and began to interpret the story in American Sign Language. What a witness our interpreters are—and what a gift to us are those who speak and listen through their hands.

Everything we’ve heard thus far suggests that receiving the gospel has to do with words, words, words. The disciples were given words to speak that would open hearts to God. Peter used words to confront people, to remind them of what they already knew about Jesus and to enlighten those who’d never heard anything about him.

But there are ways to witness to the gospel of Christ without using words.

St. Francis of Assisi is given credit for being the first to say it like this: Preach the gospel. If necessary, use words.

But sometimes it’s the very language we use in church that blocks the ability of some to hear. While those of us who worship here week after week might feel right at home, if Episcopalese isn’t your mother-tongue, well…how welcome would you feel?

Or how would you receive the good news of God in Jesus Christ if you are a single mother with a challenging 4 year-old in tow or a gay couple wondering if it would be ok to have their photo taken together for the parish directory or how do you hear the gospel if you are still learning to speak English or if your home at the moment is the Decatur Inn?

How do you hear, how to you receive the good news God is offering?

There came a point came in my life when I could no longer hear the good news of Jesus

through the voice of the Baptist preachers who formed me in the faith. Maybe the volume just got turned up too loud. But I could no longer hear love, I couldn’t hear compassion, I couldn’t hear anything above the din, the loud seemingly uncompromising voices.

Did you happen to read Tracy Wells’ Pentecost meditation in the e-news last week?

Tracy calls to mind the 4th chapter of Luke’s gospel. In particular, it’s a verse Luke must have still had in his mind as he was writing the book of Acts. Early in his ministry, Jesus stood up in his hometown synagogue and read from the prophet Isaiah: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.

Then, Tracy asks a good question. How has the Holy Spirit anointed you to preach the Gospel?

For don’t you know, all of you who’ve been baptized have already been anointed by the Holy Spirit to be witnesses. It’s part of the covenant made at baptism and reaffirmed again and again throughout our lives in the church. So the question is, how will you do that? How has the Holy Spirit anointed you to preach the Gospel?

Last week, I attended a conference for preachers. Preachers like me, who do this week after week. Five days of listening to sermons, at least 3 a day, and singing hymns side by side with 1,500 other preachers from across the country. And oh, my goodness, the preachers we had with us. It was like going to the All-Star game, although instead of Manny Ramirez and Chipper Jones, we had Fred Craddock, Barbara Brown Taylor, Raphael Warnock and oh yes, Desmond Tutu. It was a rich time. It was really something to hear those people preach the gospel.

But we also heard the gospel through some very fine music and singing—a little jazz and some awfully good gospel music—but it was the congregational singing that really rocked the place. The organ was grand but it was when the organist would lay out for a verse or two and let us sing a capella…that’s when we began to preach the gospel. Maybe you’ve had such an experience—a moment when the music carried you to a place where the spoken word could not go. But maybe that’s just me.

There are other ways the gospel can be preached, other ways to witness to God’s love.

Some people go their whole lives without standing in a pulpit, but they find other ways to preach the gospel. Other ways to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ. I’ve been told that Russ Wallace doesn’t really enjoy being in front of the congregation, not even to read a lesson from the Bible. But those 17 years of mission trips to Honduras, taking medicine and his skills as a doctor to places and people where they are so desperately needed—that’ll preach!

How has the Holy Spirit anointed you to preach the gospel?

Well, that’s one question. And it’s a good one.

Then there were those in the crowd who listened closely and attentively and heard the good news in a way that went straight to their hearts. They received a gift from the Holy Spirit as well—the gift of hearing.

By the way, did you catch what Jesus said toward the end of the reading from John’s gospel this morning? What Jesus says there feels almost subversive to me. Lest we imagine that everything we need to know about faith and life is contained in words recorded in the Bible, Jesus himself comes along and says

I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.

When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you in all the truth…

Now I wonder. How has the Holy Spirit anointed you to hear? Were you paying attention? And what did you hear?

Sermon - Seventh Sunday of Easter

Angela Shelley Wiggins, seminarian

In late spring we do a lot of sending off – we celebrate graduations and send our graduates out to do new things. We prepare for summer weddings and we send the couple off to be a new family. When the school year ends, we'll say goodbye to colleagues and neighbors who are moving away for new jobs. We say "best wishes" and "stay in touch," and promise we'll see each other again. It's a time of joy and possibility, of sweetness with a touch of sadness mixed in.

We're proud of the graduates and excited for the newlyweds and the neighbors who've found new jobs in new places, but sometimes we want things to stay just like this, just a little longer. We try not to talk about the sadness we feel in the midst of all this hope, joy and promise. Sadness because we recognize that while something good is beginning, something else good is coming to an end.

I remember the summer between high school and college. I was so excited I started packing in June. In the last few years, as children of our friends have graduated, and we've watched our friends send them off into the world, I've become more aware of the parents' perspective. We've talked about the apprehension that lurks just beneath the joy, their sense that it's come too soon.

They worry: Will everything be okay? Are they prepared? Did we do enough? Did we do too much? Did we teach them everything we meant to? What did we forget?

And they try to pack in every bit of wisdom and nurture they can before summer ends. Sometimes they resort to extreme measures. They pull out the big guns – Dr. Seuss. He's never let them down before.

Oh the Places You'll Go is a typical Dr. Seuss book in many ways. It has the clever rhymes and whimsical illustrations, but its intended audience is a little older. This book began as a graduation speech. Now it's a popular graduation gift from parents and godparents, a fun way to express their hopes and their apprehension. It's a chance to sneak in that last dose of parenting before sending the graduate out into the world.

After years of bedtime renditions of The Cat in the Hat and One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish, it's fitting to send the graduate off with one last bedtime story, a story that promises success, "98 and ¾ percent guaranteed."

Dr. Seuss expresses the joy and optimism of proud families: "Today is your day. You're off to Great Places! You're off and away!" He proclaims, "Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest."

But Dr. Seuss is also a realist. He acknowledges, "sadly, it's true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you." He writes about places where "streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked." But he's sure the graduate will emerge from the dark times and continue the journey.

Dr. Seuss also warns the graduates about the perils of loneliness, "Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you'll be quite a lot." And he tells them that being alone can be very frightening, "so much you won't want to go on." But he assures them, "But on you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go though your enemies prowl. On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl. Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak."

Dr. Seuss is confident that the graduate will endure these challenges, and accomplish good things. He captures the hopes and prayers of parents, godparents, and teachers. He writes the words parents are searching for as they send their children out on their own.

It's funny how the other calendars of our lives sometimes intersect with the lectionary. In our regular lives, we're sending forth graduates, newlyweds, and friends. We're preparing ourselves for new relationships and changing relationships.

In our Gospel lesson today, Jesus is preparing his disciples for a new kind of relationship. When Jesus is no longer physically present, they will relate in a whole new way, and Jesus wants to prepare them for that time.

Like parents sending graduates off into the world, Jesus is preparing to leave his disciples to leave them on their own, yet not alone.

The first half of the Gospel of John is sometimes called "The Book of Signs" It tells of the signs and wonders Jesus did to reveal who he was – the Word Incarnate, God Among Us. The second half of the Gospel of John opens with the Last Supper and it relates Jesus' instructions to his disciples on how to live when he's no longer present among them.

The Gospel of John positions this prayer of Jesus at the end of the Farewell Speech to the disciples, and just before the account of the passion, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus. It's a turning point in the story.

Jesus' words in the Farewell Speech and in his prayer give us a glimpse of what Jesus wants for his disciples. It's not a To-Do list or a checklist. Instead, it's in John's poetic language that slows us down to contemplate the mysteries he describes. In the Farewell Speech and prayer, we hear Jesus' hopes for his disciples, his prayer for his disciples, for us.

The relationship between Jesus and the first disciples is changing. The time of seeing Jesus perform wonders is ending. The time of eating and drinking with Jesus is coming to a close. No longer will they be an intimate group gathered around the table They will no longer see Jesus physically present among them, but Jesus wants them to know he's not leaving them alone and unprotected.

Over and over at this Last Supper he tells them, "Do not let your hearts be troubled." Jesus says, "I will not leave you orphaned." And "My peace I give to you."

We would like to include some of the assurances Jesus offers in our own sending forth messages. We want our graduates, our newlyweds, our colleagues to know they will not be alone. We want them to not be afraid. We want them to have peace. Imagine how much more comforting it must have been for the disciples to hear that although Jesus is leaving them, he's not leaving them alone.

At the conclusion of the Farewell Speech, Jesus prays to God the Father, both for his own work and for his disciples. Jesus prays for the disciples gathered in that room for the Last Supper, and he prays for the disciples gathered today in this room. Jesus prays for us, for his disciples in all ages and places. And this is his prayer. First he prays, "Holy Father, protect them in your name." Jesus says that he protected his disciples while he was on earth. Now that he is "no longer in the world," he entrusts them to the care of the Father.

Jesus prays for us just as we pray for the ones we love. The prayer we pray for those absent from us is the prayer Jesus prays for us, "Father, protect them. I can't be with them. Father protect them."

Jesus prays for protection for his disciples, "that they may be one, as we are one." He prays that his disciples will be one, will be unified, just as he is one with the Father.

Jesus also prays that his disciples will be protected from the evil one. This is similar to the prayer Jesus taught his disciples to pray, the prayer we say every week, "save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil."

The other main petition in this prayer is "sanctify them in the truth." Jesus prays that God will sanctify his disciples, He prays that God will sanctify us, set us apart to do God's work. It's interesting that Jesus didn't say, "Set aside a few from among them." Instead his prayer is for "those whom you gave me." Jesus prays that all his disciples will be set apart.

Most of us like the idea of Jesus praying for our protection. We'd like to be protected from danger and evil. It's a little more disquieting to hear Jesus pray for God to sanctify us, to set us apart, All of us. Not just the super-holy, not just the clergy, but all of us. Sanctified, set apart for God's work. All of us.

In our Gospel lesson today, Jesus' work in the world is coming to a conclusion. His work was revealing who God is and he has done this work through signs and wonders. And Jesus' work, revealing the glory of God, will be accomplished in his crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. And his work will be accomplished through his disciples who will continue to reveal who God is. We have been set apart for this work, the work of revealing who God is. Sanctified by God through the prayer of Jesus.

In the liturgical calendar, We're in the seventh Sunday of Easter, between the ascension of Jesus, and Pentecost. Ascension, the day we mark Jesus' physical absence and his glorification, And Pentecost, when we celebrate the fulfillment of his promise to send the Holy Spirit in his absence.

We live in the fulfillment of that promise, with the presence of the Holy Spirit. We're celebrating mysteries we cannot describe, and telling stories we cannot comprehend. This is the work we've been set apart for, the work of making God known.

When we remember that we are the ones set apart, we have a new perspective. We're not staying behind and sending others off. We're all set apart to do the work of God, we're all sent out to make God known.

As Dr. Seuss concludes, "be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea, you're off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way!"

Or as the Book of Common Prayer puts it, "Let us go forth into the world, rejoicing in the power of the Spirit. Alleluia, alleluia!"

Amen.

Sermon: Fourth Sunday of Easter

Justin Yawn, seminarian

Here we gather again on the fourth Sunday of Easter. It is a day where we hear the texts that many of us here might find familiar. First, we hear about Peter and John defending their actions to the Sanhedrin. Proclaiming the love of God and not denying it. Next, John, in our lesson, tells us about the love of God and how it should be incarnated in the love we have for others. Lastly, we approach the Gospel, the famous image of Christ as the Good Shepherd. Many people in the world use the image of a shepherd to describe Jesus. All of these stories are rich and full of meaning, but I want to focus on our two passages attributed to John.

The Gospel today portrays Christ as the Good Shepherd. As I mentioned earlier, it is a common image, but, I do not know about you all, I actually do not know exactly what a shepherd’s life is like today or even in 1st century Judea. Have no fears I did some research into the subject. Shepherds, in Jesus’ time, were really cut off from most of society. Their main job was to insure that their flock had water and food. If they were serious, as I think Jesus is depicted as, they would actually sleep outside with the sheep to insure their safety. However, their obedience to their flock put their own life in danger. It was a job that had to be taken seriously. It was not a job for the weak, but a job for the dedicated and strong. Shepherding in the desert had its own challenges. Water was not an abundant resource in the desert as many people may know if they have been to a desert before. Predators abided in many places and the sheep often wanted to go into the dark corners for shelter. The shepherd had to keep track of all of these things.

As Lawrence Moore points out, “Jesus, in John 10, picks up on the “frontline” aspect of shepherding: “I am the gate” (10:7) and, in our text this week, “I am the good shepherd”. Note that this follows on immediately from the verse, “I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly”. Jesus then moves immediately into the image of the shepherd whose “goodness” is seen in laying down his life for the sheep. Jesus is not saying, “I am the good shepherd because I am prepared to lay down my life for the sheep”. This is not about risk-taking. Jesus is the shepherd who will give abundant life to the sheep at the expense of his own life.”

Jesus has reminded us that he has the ability to protect us. Our response to this loving kindness is to follow, follow Christ where he leads us. Christ says that he did what the father commanded and gave up his life for others. He acted in obedience, more importantly; his life was centered on God. Christ loved us and Christ loved God. We too are called to that place of love. To love others as a shepherd loves their flock. Christ had God, and we have both to lead and guide us. This is a gift that we should not take for granted. Knowing that Christ is our protector and leader is the first step toward living into the faith Christ calls us too.

When I was a young boy about 12 I was involved in the Boy Scouts of America. I spent many nights camping and scurrying around remote marsh hammocks with my friends and my father. One particular thing I disliked to do was go out at night and collect firewood in the dark. I was always scared that I might stumble onto a snake or maybe even the boogie man would get me. It never occurred to me that my dad was right there with me the entire time. He was keeping his eye on me and he always knew when I needed help or was very scared. Many times he would come and walk with me, so I would not worry about the creatures of the night. I felt safe. Dad was my shepherd who looked after me, whom I trusted and loved completely. Eventually, I became comfortable in this relationship and was able to go out and get my work done without him standing right next to me. However, I always knew he was watching over me and he was only a call away if I needed him.

This is what the risen life of Christ is about. Christ has been there by our side and Christ is there with us even when we don’t see him. Just as a Shepherd stays with its flock, so too does Christ stay with us. Our life with Christ calls us to embody the love he has for us and express this love to those around us. In one sense, we are sheep who rely on Christ and in another sense we are the instruments of Christ in the world.

Our epistle today encourages us to live out our faith. James, mentions in his letter that faith without works is dead (James 2:17). Here too, John is making a similar claim that we should let our love for Christ overwhelm us and lead us to love those around us. It is incarnating our faith in Christ that leads to transformative power in the world. It leads us to places that we would not normally go. It leads us to Honduras, New Orleans, Serbia, Africa, India, Haiti, and the list goes on. Our love for Christ helps us to recognize those in need around us. We do not just keep this love concealed for ourselves and for those whom we trust but we express to all people.

Last night at our Welcome Table Service, Ed spoke about the Clean Water ministry in Haiti. Particularly he spoke about prayer and how he understood prayer in his own life. But, what I saw standing before the congregation last night was a man who was incarnating the love of God. He was not letting his own fears or faith become a stumbling block. Ed found a way to touch God’s creation in transformative ways. When I look out in the congregation this morning I see faces of people who reach out to those around them and embody the love of God the same way Ed does. People who are not afraid to act in love. People who look at outreach as a normal part of their lives. The mission statement of Holy Trinity is a wonderful witness to the love each congregant here has for those around them. Holy Trinity challenges us to open hearts to God and doors to community. If I had time this morning I would tell stories about the various times I have seen this mission statement embodied by parishioners here. Your faith is strong and it is through this faith that you are acting.

Robert Cole-Turner says that faith is never alone and when God creates saving faith in our hearts, God creates active love. Everyone sitting here today has the saving faith of Christ in their hearts and we must remember this and continue the work.

We are the body of Christ on Earth and it is our job to live out our faith in our actions. For some this comes in the form of outreach to those in need. For others it might be a simple act of kindness and even for others it might be taking time to pray for someone who has hit a rough patch in their life. There is not one uniform way to live out your faith. The important thing we need to remember is that Christ is our leader and protector and all we need to do is align ourselves with the will of God and trust in Christ.

If you think back to Holy Week, our readings on Holy Thursday included two commandments Christ left us with are echoed in the epistle today. First to love God and secondly to love our neighbor. I know Holy Week is long past and we are into the joy of the Easter season and resurrection. But, these two commandments are important to remember as we live into the risen life. It is an easy task God calls us to. When we live into this risen life Christ challenges us, challenges us to seek and serve those around us. To remember that everyone of God’s creation is our sister or brother. Also, we must not forget that Christ is with us and guiding us every step of the way. Christ is our shepherd, protector, and friend. The one who will never leave our sides, but one who calls us to live out our faith in the world and to reflect God in all that we do.

When we begin to live out this faith, things happen. Wells are dug providing water to over 60,000 Haitians, with more on the way. Communities are developed and concrete floors are placed in houses that previously only had dirt floors. People travel to the Gulf Coast to provide houses to those who are living in shelters. Someone takes the time to call a friend who just experienced a tragedy and offers peace. Acting in faith leads to love of those around us which ultimately provides hope. I tell you today, my friends, that I believe this is what it means to live into the risen life of Christ.