Pentecost, 2016
Church of the Ascension and Saint Agnes – Washington, D.C.
Lectionary Readings:
Genesis 11:1-9, Psalm 104:25-35, 37, Acts 2:1-21, John 14:8-17
Waiting… Waiting can be awkward and strange, uncomfortable. But waiting is also pregnant and full in its own way. I stood here a few days ago, waiting, listening to the silence of this space, letting the silence talk to me.
Waiting… waiting for this moment. Today is Pentecost; quite possibly, in its own way, the noisiest of all festivals in the church year. I know of several parishes wherein the Acts account is read simultaneously by a multitude of congregants in a multiplicity of languages, creating a beautiful symphony of sound probably not unlike what the foreigners living in Jerusalem heard during that First Century Jewish feast of Weeks or Shavout – that first Christian Pentecost. But to only get caught up in the fanfare and the climax that is the decent of the Holy Spirit is to miss a very noticeable silence amidst all of this noise and activity.
Silence and waiting often go hand-in-hand, and there was a silent waiting in anticipation of Pentecost. Our readings today bookend the experience for us. To start with, in the Gospel reading from John, we have Jesus beginning what is known as his farewell discourse, a dialogue with the disciples in which he predicts his own death and foretells a number of events which are to come. Not least among these is the decent of the Holy Spirit. “And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him, because he abides with you and he will be in you…”
On the other side of the story today, we see Jesus’s pronouncement come to fruition. “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.”
This all seems pretty clear right? Jesus tells his disciples that the Holy Spirit will descend and indwell within them, and then eventually the Holy Spirit comes and… surprise! It does just what Jesus said it would do! But, what about all of that time in between? If we go back to John again, Jesus is giving his farewell discourse immediately following the institution of the Lord’s Supper, on the night before he was handed over to the Jewish and Roman authorities. The events of Holy Week unfold, and the disciples are left in dark nothingness – the silent waiting – of Good Friday and Holy Saturday. But then! Resurrection! Jesus rises from the dead and the disciples get another 40 days to learn and be formed by him in a physical embodied way. And then as Luke recounts at the very beginning of Acts, Jesus ascends into heaven, and again institutes another period of waiting, “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” This was the Ascension which we celebrated last week. Jesus foretells what is to come, and in so doing leaves his disciples in silence. More Silent waiting. More Silent anticipation. Yes, it is true that they go about replacing Judas with Matthias and surely performing other rather mundane responsibilities, but in the end what do they do really except wait? They listen. And, they hope. This is the silent waiting that often goes unacknowledged at Pentecost. Yes, the tongues and the fire eventually come, but they come after a time of waiting and anticipation.
We are called to great things in the life of the Church, which is the life of Christ. Our gifts will shine forth as Jesus says, “the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these.” Even in realizing this, however, we must be ever mindful of the fact that this only happens on God’s time. Sometimes, before God’s work is manifested in our work, we must wait and anticipate.
Now, I should note, as some of you may be thinking, waiting is not always easy. Sometimes waiting is absolutely terrifying! I am ready to go. Why hasn’t the spirit come yet? I am ready to do God’s work! And then some others of you may be thinking, ehh waiting is no problem. I am happy to wait as long as my Pentecost is somewhere down the line. That is what is terrifying to me!
I can sympathize with both sides here. Living into God’s calling is not easy either way. Sometimes it is a calling into action, dare I say a Pentecostal empowerment? But other times it is a calling into contemplation, silence, and waiting. We see the former in Acts and the latter in John. Neither of these paths are easy to trod, and both more often than not can be quite scary. But again, listen to what Jesus says today. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”
Do not be afraid. What are you called to this morning? What are we as Ascension and Saint Agnes called to at this time in our life together? Maybe we do not yet know. Maybe we are trying to figure out whether we are called to action or to further waiting. So, what do we do in this liminal space? This place of uncertainty?
The Presbyterian theologian and pastor Eugene Bay offers an answer. Reflecting on today’s Gospel he writes, “The concern of the text is a community whose life is obedient to Jesus, a community that proves its love for Jesus by keeping his commandments… and it is within obedient Christian communities that the Spirit comes.”
So, what is our obedience? If you recall, Jesus began this discourse following the institution of the Lord’s Supper, of the Eucharist. Here, he offers us our path of obedience. We will have times of action and times of waiting. We will have times of certainty and times of uncertainty. But be not afraid. Do what He has called us to do, and be faithful to those commandments. So, today we gather. In a few moments, we will shift our focus to the altar and to the faithful obedience we are called to in partaking of the Eucharist. We will be renewed and refreshed in our faith, and strengthened for the journey ahead. Whether it is action or faithful waiting, we can walk boldly and confidentially forward, knowing we have nothing to fear as long as we live into the obedient life of Christ. Be not afraid. Be not afraid.
AMEN
Ad Orientem 