Sermon: You are called to freedom - love each other (June 26, 2022)

Full service HERE.

Pentecost 3C/Proper 8C
June 26, 2022
Galatians 5:1, 13-25
Luke 9:51-62

INTRODUCTION

Today’s texts will show us both the joys and the challenges of discipleship. In the Gospel, after rebuking his disciples for wanting to get vengeance on some Samaritans who don’t welcome them, Jesus tells three would-be disciples about how challenging it can be to follow him. In Galatians, we will hear about how tempting it can be to give in to our fleshly desires, like jealously, anger, drunkenness… quite a list. In contrast, Paul will offer, when we live by the Spirit, we will see the fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. This is the life God wants for us!

The first reading from 1st Kings is pretty difficult to follow without any context. So here’s some: just before this, Elijah killed all the prophets of the false god, Ba-al, and Queen Jezebel is furious! She wants Elijah killed. Elijah runs off to the wilderness, where he finally lands, exhausted, depressed, and begging God just to kill him now. After giving Elijah rest and food, God tells him to go out and stand in a cave on Mount Sinai, where Elijah encounters wind, an earthquake, and fire, but God is found in the sound of sheer silence. And God asks him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” Elijah laments, “I’m the only faithful person left in Israel, and they’re trying to kill me!” What we will hear in a moment is God’s reply, which is basically, “I’m sending you to completely rearrange the political and spiritual order in and around Israel” (you know, no big deal), including anointing Elijah’s successor, Elisha. In the missing verses, God promises that there are still 7000 people in Israel who remain faithful. And then we will hear the part of the story in which Elijah passes the prophetic mantle on to Elisha, a call Elisha will in turn take very seriously, by basically eliminating his past life.

Yes, discipleship is difficult, and often requires some sacrifice! As you listen today, listen for some nugget that will help you in your own life of discipleship, that will give you strength for the journey ahead. Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

         I took a class in college as a part of my religion major on theologies of the 20th century. It was an incredible class – our conversations were fascinating, and I never worked so hard in a class. (I've never been prouder of an A-!) One thing in particular that the professor said has really stuck with me. She said, “Lots of things are true: the sky is blue, I love my dog, Christ died so that we would have freedom from death. They are all true. But which of those will you stake your life on?”

         Which of these will you stake your life on? The question has nagged at me through every crisis I have had since then – whether a crisis of faith, or a more tangible crisis, or a combination. What truth will you stake your life on? And of all those things, I bet you can guess which is the one that gets me through a crisis. I’ll give you a hint: it is not the color of the sky.

         “You were called for freedom. Love each other as Christ has loved you. Guided by the Spirit, find joy, peace, and love.” This short song was written by Pastor Matthew Nickoloff, of the South Wedge Mission congregation. It’s based on today’s text from Galatians: “For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” The text goes on to urge us to live not by desires of the flesh, but by the Spirit, describing the fruits of such a life as love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, and self-control. These fruits, or virtues, says the apostle Paul, are the ones we embrace when we live in a way that is guided by the Spirit, by Christ, by love for one another, and not by self-indulgence. In short, this is what it looks like to live in Christian freedom, to live a life that reflects the truth that Christ died to free us from sin and death.

         It sounds like a pretty good life, right? Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, self-control… these are all things that we want to teach our children, because we know that without those things, the world can be a pretty nasty place. Michael and I frequently tell our kids, “We want you to be successful, but most of all, we want you to be kind.” We want to instill in them a value of treating others with respect and love, so that they will indeed find delight in loving and treating people well. Who wouldn’t want to live a life like that?

         And yet, we don’t always do it. We all, at some point, give in to self-indulgence, and do not do what is kind or loving or patient or generous, but rather what indulges our broken, human desires in that moment. At some point we are all like the disciples in today’s Gospel lesson. They encounter the Samaritans, whom they already despised for their different historical and racial background (see, prejudice based on race has long been an issue!). When they discover these Samaritans will not receive Jesus as he travels through their country, they are outraged. They likely think, “Oh, this is the last straw. Those people, those Samaritans, are no good. They worship wrong, their blood is tainted by the enemy, they do not belong to our kind. And now this! Of course they would be behave like this, rejecting Jesus. We already knew they were bad people, and this just confirms it.” With all of their past opinions, assumptions and prejudices as proof of the validity of their hatred, the disciples ask Jesus, “Do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven to consume them?” Their response is not to love, but to destroy! Granted, they offer this with the best of intentions – they are defending their Lord, after all! Surely, he would agree with them; after all, don’t we always assume that Jesus loves or rejects all the same people as we do?

         Now, I’m going to assume that no one here has ever wished death and destruction on an entire town based on one action. But I’m also guessing everyone here has at some point, maybe even in the past few days, wished or spoken some sort of ill or punishment against someone who upset us, or who acted in a way that pushed against our deeply held values, or who said something offensive, or who treated someone we love cruelly. We see this behavior all the time: in politics, in our workplaces, in our families, in our friend groups, on both social media and traditional media. We see it in others, and yes, we see it in ourselves. And the worst thing is, sometimes it feels good to voice something nasty about someone else, even if it’s something we don’t really mean. And, we can convince ourselves that our anger is righteous, and justified. And frankly, it may well be! 

But as good as it may feel in the moment, such a nasty response is not the way Christ intends for us to use our Christian freedom. The Constitution may grant us the freedom to say what we want and how, but Christ grants us a different sort of freedom – the freedom to love and serve our neighbor. That freedom may well compel us to speak strongly to someone, to speak up for the disenfranchised, to speak truth and justice to power. I’m not saying not to do that; indeed, that is more important now than it was even a week ago. I’m also not saying that engaging according to the fruits of the Spirit is easy – especially when we are feeling enraged, sad, or scared, as many are right now. Yet still, the manner in which we speak that truth, or listen to another’s story, is what makes our response rooted in the Spirit, or in our fleshly indulgence. 

You were called for freedom: Love each other as Christ has loved you. Guided by the Spirit, find joy, peace, and love.

 Of all the truths you know, which would you stake your life on? 

Would you stake your life on the belief that someone who hurt you or someone else should be brought down and put in their place by words or actions? 

Would you stake your life on the belief that when someone you dislike or disapprove of falls upon bad fortune, they deserved what was coming to them? 

Would you stake your life on the need to tell some offender exactly what you think of them?

I admit those are all things I have felt viscerally in my bones at some point or another. But would I stake my life on them?

         Or would you stake your life on God’s promise that God is stronger than death, stronger than sin, stronger than captivity; that if God is for us, nothing can defeat us? 

Would you stake your life on the truth that because God has broken the bonds of death for us, that we can live lives of freedom – not the freedom to self-indulge and say and do whatever we want, as Paul writes, but the freedom to love one another, to live by the Spirit? 

Would you stake your life on the truth that because God loves us bunch of sinners, God is capable of loving any bunch of sinners, and that to live in God’s Spirit means that we, too, strive to love all the sinners of the world – even if they sin differently from you?

         Those are hard truths, very hard. They sometimes go very much against the grain of our human inclination, which says that people should get what they deserve. They are truths I sometimes find it difficult to apply to other people, even as I’m so grateful that they apply to me. But they are truths that I can, indeed that I must, stake my life on, because they are truths that bring us to life – life with God, and life with one another.

         Let us pray… You called us for freedom, to love each other as Christ has loved us. Guide us by your Spirit, to find joy, peace, and love. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Sermon: Unchained from our pain (June 19, 2022)

Full service HERE.

 Pentecost 2C/Proper 7C
June 19, 2022
Luke 9:26-39

INTRODUCTION

Today, after a couple months straight of festival Sundays, we enter into what is called “ordinary time.” It’s marked by the use of green paraments, and during this time through the summer and fall, we work our way through the daily ministry of Jesus, hearing his teachings and stories of healings, stuff like that. 

Today is also Juneteenth, as you know, which is perfect because today’s texts are all about freedom! Well, Isaiah is more about the need for freedom, in particular freedom from sin. At this point in Isaiah, the Israelites have returned from exile, and divisions are emerging in the worshiping community, and in this text, one group is expressing their frustration toward the other group – a situation we know something about! 

But Galatians offers a response to this. Speaking to the divisions and disagreements inherent in the new Christian communities, and whether those differences are lawful or not, Paul offers this liberating exclamation: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ!” It remains a powerful message as we remember the freedom from slavery that we celebrate on Juneteenth, and as we manage and celebrate diversity in our 21st century world.

Finally, in the Gospel reading, we’ll hear of a man who is captive in numerous ways – he is captive to a Legion of demons, he is chained up outside of town, trapped in a graveyard. And Jesus comes and declares his freedom. The townspeople are not thrilled by Jesus’ declaration – as I’m sure slaveholders in the 19th century weren’t thrilled with the declaration of their slaves’ freedom! We have continued to long for freedom for all God’s people, even as we have, like those in this text, continued to feel uncertain and suspect of it as well. 

As you listen to these readings, I hope you will find yourself in them. Where and how do these stories help you to tell your own story? Where do your story and the text intersect? Let’s listen. 

[READ]

Katolophyromai, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>,
via Wikimedia Commons

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. 

Last week we had a new member class. Since these folks bring a fresh perspective to our congregation, I asked them what they’d like to see at St. Paul’s. One of those in attendance said she’d love to have a place where she can talk with others in the congregation about where they have seen God working in their lives, and how we could pray for each other. 

I would love that, too! That’s exactly what a faith community can offer that is different from what other organizations can offer. So where can this happen? Well, perhaps the best place is in the context of Bible study. We believe that scripture is the means by which we hear God’s voice and see and understand how God is working in our lives. So if we want to see and know God’s action in and among us, then spending time dwelling in this sacred telling of God’s story, the Bible, is the logical place to start!

Now, I know, “Bible study” can sound very boring to some. Or maybe, it is intimidating, because many of us have so little experience, we don’t even know where to start with the Bible, and we’re afraid we will feel dumb. It just isn’t relatable to me, we think. It’s so esoteric, with lots of people, places, and rituals that are so foreign to me. I get it – I felt that way most of my life before going to seminary, too, and I still do sometimes! But it doesn’t have to be boring, OR intimidating. When I say “Bible study,” what I mean is this: looking together at a story – not necessarily the particulars of it, but the arch of the story – and finding ways that this story can help us tell our own story. Because scripture tells stories about how God works in the world, right? So, if we can find how our own story overlaps with God’s story, then we have a better shot at seeing how God is working in our world, our story. Right?

But how do we do that, we ask, when the story we are given is just so… weird. Like today’s Gospel: it’s a cool story, one of the most graphic and bizarre in the Bible. Just picture it, and it is, truly, creepy. It’s in a graveyard, this guy is breaking his chains and clearly out of his mind. It’s a horror flick. So where are we supposed to find ourselves in this intense story of demon possession, and pigs flying off a cliff? I’m not saying demon possession isn’t real, I’m just saying it is likely not familiar to most of us. So how can it possibly relate to our 21st century lives?

But look beneath the surface, and there is a point of entry. We may not all know about demon possession, but we do all know something about how it feels to be metaphorically chained by or to something that works against who we want to be in the world. I’m thinking about… our past traumas, the emotional pain we carry, the defenses we have learned to put up in order to feel safe from whatever is our biggest fear – be it abandonment, or shame, or failure, or insignificance. Like the Gerasene demoniac, we may find ourselves chained by these things, such that they hold us back from living a life of wholeness – they keep us from being in trusting relationships, from deep connection, from contributing something meaningful to the world. No, we are not physically chained in a graveyard, but we do find ourselves no less trapped in a place that is more death than life. 

And then along comes Jesus, and with him the possibility of healing, of freedom, of breaking those chains that would hold us back and keep us from the life we crave. Jesus soon realizes how stubborn those demons are (and don’t we know about how stubborn our pain and trauma can be, often hiding deep inside where even we can’t see it, but emerging, often unexpectedly, and wreaking havoc in our lives and relationships). And what does Jesus do? He asks for its name. He asks for the demons, the pain, the trauma, to be named. What happens when we name what is troubling us? Once specifically named, that thing immediately begins to lose its power. It cannot hide any longer. Anyone who has spent any time in counseling knows this – once something has been identified, named, we can find a pathway forward, away from that pain and trauma. It’s not always an easy path, or one we want to take. But it promises far more life than staying put does. 

Sure enough, once Legion has been identified, Jesus knows how to get rid of them: he sends them into a herd of swine, who in turn race off a cliff and into the sea. I can’t help but notice the baptismal imagery here – the demons are literally drowned, the very same language we use when talking about baptism. Luther writes in his Small Catechism, that the significance of baptism is “that the old person in us, with all the sins and evil desires, is to be drowned and die.” In a moment, when Reeve, Alex, and Bobby affirm their baptism, they will say that they continue to renounce that “old person,” that Legion that would try to make their way into our lives. I love that image of renouncing, rejecting those evil desires and God-defying forces, and picturing them as a pig flying through the air and into the sea! 

So, once that renunciation is complete… what do we have left? Jesus has cast out the Legion, and what is left is a man, bloodied and bruised from the shackles, naked and completely vulnerable, without any of his former coping mechanisms. This can be the hardest part of emotional healing. When you have spent so much time letting yourself be defined by your pain, trauma, ailments, troubles – and you’ve built up defenses to keep that false identity safe – then who are you without it? Who is this man without his demons? Who is the alcoholic without her wine? Who am I without my anger? Who are you without your shame? Who are we without our fear and pain? I know people who have gone to therapy and, as they chip away at healing, they discover that they need to find something to fill the space that was left by whatever unhealthy behavior or pattern they dispelled. Otherwise, we are left with an identity crisis. Who am I, without that?

But Jesus does not let the man stay there long, hurting, naked, and completely vulnerable. By the time the townspeople arrive, the man is clothed again – much as we, in our baptism, are “clothed in Christ.” The Apostle Paul talks about how we “put on” Christ in baptism, and here that is what has happened. It’s why we wear baptismal gowns, and confirmation robes – we are “putting on Christ.” And so here, the man is clothed and sitting at Jesus’ feet. He has become a disciple. But that isn’t all – Jesus gives him a charge, a new purpose. “Return to your home,” he says, “and declare how much God has done for you.” This is remarkable! For years, this man has been defined by Legion. He was The Demoniac. And now, just like God does in our baptism, Christ has given him a new name and purpose: he is an apostle, one sent to tell how God has worked in his life, how his story and God’s story have intersected and overlapped. He is sent to tell the good news.

This, too, is our own story. In a moment, our confirmands will affirm the promises made at baptism, and with them, we will be reminded of our own baptism. Among those promises is this: “to proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed.”  That sounds an awful lot like Jesus’ charge to the man in the story! I’m not saying you all should become preachers, or go door to door with pamphlets. I am saying that finding the words to tell our own stories of the ways Jesus has shown up on the shores of our lives, and helped us to name what keeps us bound, so that we could find a more fulfilling life, is a part of what living out our baptismal promises looks like. How has God worked through your story to bring you to fuller life? 

There are other parts to our baptismal covenant, too, of course: serving all people, engaging in the word and the sacraments, striving for justice and peace in all the earth. It is all good stuff to aim for. But what the study of scripture can do for us, even creepy and intense stories like this one, is to give us words by which to tell the story of how God has brought us to life.

I pray that our three confirmands will find ways to live into that. I pray that our graduates, as they head off to the next phase of their lives, will encounter God’s story playing out in their own story, in many and various ways. And I pray that all of us would become more intimately familiar with God’s story told through scripture, so that we might know how to make it our own.

Let us pray… Life-giving God, encourage us to dwell in your word, so that by your word we may find language to share the story of how you unbind your people, and bring them to life. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Getting to hope (June 12, 2022)

Full service can be viewed HERE. Sermon is at 32:30.

Holy Trinity Sunday
June 12, 2022
Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31
Romans 5:1-5
John 16:12-15

INTRODUCTION

Today, Holy Trinity Sunday, is a difficult one to preach or even talk about, because it is the only Sunday dedicated not to celebrating a particular event in Jesus’ life or the life of the church, but rather, a doctrine. And at that, it is a doctrine that is, by definition, impossible to describe, because as soon as you try to define God, you have limited God to something definable by a merely human mind. So, what our texts do today is present to us some of the ways God works. They each (except Proverbs) mention all three persons of the Trinity. And they paint a picture of some small part of who and how God is. As you listen, don’t try to figure out exactly how to explain God, how the Father relates to the Son, relates to the Holy Spirit. Instead, just let the images wash over you, and sit in them, and imagine how these images of a Triune God can feed you and give you life. Let’s listen.

[READ]

In the past week, some fairly ugly news concerning our denomination, the ELCA, has hit the mainstream media. The story is long and complicated, and I won’t get into all the details here. The short version, if there is one, is that the bishop of the Sierra Pacific Synod in California, Megan Rohrer, the first openly trans, Lutheran bishop, was asked by the presiding bishop to resign, over some racist conduct. The whole ordeal has been pretty poorly handled, and has left many deeply pained or traumatized. In the end, the bishop in California resigned without taking any responsibility for the pain caused by their actions, and people are still reeling and trying to heal from the mess that was left. (If you want to know more about this, I’m happy to talk with you, but it is too complicated to get into in a sermon!)

What is perhaps most painful for me, as a white woman and pastor who doesn’t have to deal with racism on a daily basis, is to see that even in the Church, this sort of conflict is possible. Turns out, the Church is full of broken people just like every other place on earth, and though we strive to follow Christ’s teachings regarding love of neighbor, we still too often fail miserably. We hurt each other, we judge each other, we make assumptions. We may not call ourselves racist, but we do benefit from a racist system. And because of all that, we all suffer.

“We boast in our sufferings,” writes Paul, “knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” I admit I find more consolation in these verses when I read them in hindsight, than I do in the moment of suffering. It’s hard to feel that “hope that does not disappoint us” in the midst of the pain – especially, in the case of Sierra Pacific Synod, when the pain is caused by the very Church that was supposed to proclaim hope! 

So how can we be better, Church? How can the teachings of scripture help us to manage better in conflict – whether at church, or work, or home, or wherever – so that we don’t let it tear us apart, but rather, do as Paul describes: letting it produce endurance, character, and finally hope?

            Our readings today can help us. First, let’s look to the Gospel. Once again, we have a piece of Jesus’ farewell discourse, the speech he gave to his disciples on the night before his death. Here he tells the disciples, “I still have many things to tell you, but you can’t bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.” I find this both frustrating and encouraging. It’s frustrating because it first requires us to admit: we don’t know everything. We don’t know the whole story – certainly not God’s whole story, not someone else’s story, and sometimes not even our own! Jesus names that reality straight out, saying we simply can’t know everything at once. 

But as frustrating as that is, it can also be liberating. Because if we can let go of our need or desire to know everything, and to be right all the time, we can focus instead on the person’s feelings, their experience. Usually the most important arguments don’t have answers that are right and wrong; they are just different. I’m not talking about facts here, I’m talking about what is true for someone, what resonates with their heart. In that sense, one person’s truth might be different from another person’s truth, but that doesn’t mean one has to be right, and one wrong.

            And so, a much harder, but more faithful way to approach disagreements is to listen to Jesus’ words, and take to heart the reality that we don’t know everything, and we never will – we cannot know the mind and ways of God, and we cannot even fully know the experience and feelings of another person. What we can do is put aside our insistence that we are right… and simply listen to one another, with open hearts and minds, and try to hear and understand as much of the other person’s truth as possible. That’s when that second, more encouraging part of Jesus’ statement can enter in: “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.” The Spirit will guide us into truth. But this can’t happen unless we first admit that we need guidance, and then let down our sword and shield and make room for the Spirit to do that important work. It requires humility, and self-awareness, and it may hurt a little, or even a lot, but as Jesus promises, this listening – to each other and to the Spirit – is what makes truth be known, and from there, healing and growth can follow.

The next place to turn for guidance in this difficult work is our reading from Proverbs. Isn’t this text lovely? Part of the reason I love it is that it describes the Holy Spirit’s role in creation, as God’s co-creator – but here the Holy Spirit does not possess the masculine identity we’re used to. No, here the Spirit is described as “Lady Wisdom.” This is actually a fairly common way to describe the Spirit, as Wisdom, which is, in Hebrew, a feminine image. “Sophia,” she’s called. So here we see God as both male and female, creating both male and female, creating a world that has differences, and different ways of understanding, and that very difference is what brings about life. We also see a God who, even in the very act of creating, works together in community. Bringing life is not an act that can be accomplished by one alone; it is a task to be done as a community, working together, delighting and rejoicing in one another’s work. When we are able to work together, we can be one, even in our differences, just as God the Creator is one with Christ and with the Holy Spirit. Genuine community is challenging, but it is also creative, enriching, and productive.

            Finally, we turn to this text from Romans, because while all of this other stuff is good to work toward, none of it is possible without what Paul expresses here in Romans. Paul begins this chapter saying, “Since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand.” That’s a lot of dense, churchy words, so let’s break it down: the reason we are able to do all this hard work that is required in a fruitful, productive, loving community, is that we already have the gift and promise of God’s peace. It’s not a gift we have to earn. We have that peace already, not because of who we are and what we do, but because God is who God is, and does what God does. God loves us and accepts us despite our various shortcomings (and let’s admit it, there are plenty of those – if there is one thing we all have in common, besides God’s love for us, it is that we all make mistakes, and we are all sinners in need of grace!).

But here’s the really stunning news: because of who God is – one who justifies and loves and embraces even the ungodly, even those who make mistakes – because of who God is, we come to truly know the peace of God, and are empowered and encouraged to turn in love to extend the same grace, mercy, acceptance, and forgiveness to those around us, those with whom we are in community, those with whom we need to work and live each day.

Accepting God’s unconditional love for us can be difficult; extending that love, mercy and forgiveness to others can be even more difficult. But as Paul also tells us, we don’t need to know how just yet – the Spirit, Lady Wisdom, will show us how if we listen to her and leave space in our hearts and between our words and before our reactions for that same Spirit to move and breathe and do her thing to guide us toward the truth. With the help of the holy communion, the Holy Trinity, we, too, can grow in love for one another, becoming a holy community who loves, cares for, listens to, accepts, and embraces one another, even as we continually hold each other accountable to this holy call. May it be so.

Let us pray… Holy Three-in-One, in our passion for justice, we don’t always remember to listen to the pains and experiences of others. By your Holy Spirit, assure us of your peace, and empower us to hear what is true for our brothers and sisters with whom we may disagree. Draw us ever into closer community with each other and with you. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Diversity and God's vastness (Pentecost, June 5, 2022)

Full service can be viewed HERE. Sermon begins at 44:45.

Day of Pentecost
June 5, 2022
Acts 2:1-21
Genesis 11:1-9

INTRODUCTION

Happy birthday, Church! That’s what Christians sometimes call this day of Pentecost, because it is the day that we remember how the Spirit wooshed into those gathered, igniting and empowering them, and from there the people were sent out to proclaim the good news. On that day, 3000 people were baptized, and the Church only grew from there! 

This was not, however the beginning of the Spirit. We have been hearing about the Spirit from day 1, how it moved over the waters at creation. The Spirit shows up in the Psalms many times. The Spirit moves throughout the prophets, causes Mary to conceive, and rests on Jesus at his baptism. And, Jesus told his disciples shortly before his crucifixion, “[The Father] will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth.” Ta-da! Today’s the big day!

Throughout scripture the Spirit has many jobs – advocate, comforter, inspiration, teacher, bringer of peace. Today in Acts we even see the Spirit as something of an agitator, stirring up a ruckus! But we also see the Spirit as the enabler of community. In our first reading, we’ll hear the story of the Tower of Babel, which ends with people’s languages getting all mixed up. Yet in Acts, with the Spirit’s help, the diverse people find they can understand one another once again. In our divided world, this is good news! As you listen, discover the ways the Spirit is bringing us into community with one another. Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Debie Thomas immigrated from India to America as an infant, but her parents insisted they speak their native tongue, Malayalam (ma-LAY-uh-lum), at home. She grew up bi-lingual. Still, there was an understanding that while “we” (brown Indian people) might cross into “their” (white Americans) language and culture, “the linguistic traffic would never flow in the opposite direction.” In fact, most Americans had never even heard of Malayalam. 

But when Debie was about 10 years old, her aunt and uncle brought over a young woman named Sarah – blond haired, blue eyed, mid-30s. Her uncle explained that Sarah had spent her childhood years in India, and had often visited the South Indian state where Debie’s family had lived. The family was shocked when Sarah then opened her mouth and began speaking to them in their native tongue! Debie writes, “Sarah told us her story in careful but convincing Malayalam… [She] moved to South India after college, and immersed herself in the language and culture. ‘It was very hard,’ she admitted. ‘Learning the script, forming such new sounds – annoying people with my mistakes. But I’m so glad I did.’ Over dinner, she went on to explain how much her … immersion had changed her. ‘I didn’t realize before how limited my own perceptions were. My ideas about humor, about art, about God. I didn’t know how many things were unsayable in a single language.’” ["Words on Fire" from Journey With Jesus blog, https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/959-words-on-fire, accessed June 2, 2022] 

Language is a fascinating thing, isn’t it? Even within a single language, there is so much nuance and potential lack of clarity. After my friend Victoria left last weekend, Michael and I were marveling at what an intentional and extraordinary communicator she is, seeking just the right words to express herself, and taking time to ask questions before jumping to assumptions in dense conversations. In one conversation Victoria and I had, we were talking about our deepest held values, and the first value she mentioned for herself was, “communication.” It shows! I strive to be like that, and yet how many arguments do I find myself in where, partway through, I realize that our disagreement is centered around a word for which we don’t share a common understanding! And so we’re just talking right past each other. Especially words that get thrown around in vitriolic, politically-fueled conversations – words like “liberal” and “conservative,” “woke,” “cancel culture” and “racism,” “pro-life” and “pro-choice,” “gun-safety” – even for the word so foundational as “freedom,” we don’t seem to share a common understanding! We assume we share an understanding of these hot-button words, and condemn the other based on that assumption. No wonder we can’t see eye-to-eye on the most pressing issues of our day!

Our story today from Genesis can offer a framework for this. The story of the Tower of Babel is from what we call the Bible’s Primeval History: the first 11 chapters of Genesis. It’s a series of origin stories. Babel, of course, is a story about the origin of different language and cultural diversity. On first read, it can sound very much like God’s decision to confuse the languages and scatter the people abroad was a punishment for the people’s pride. Like, “They’re getting too big for their britches, so I will thwart their efforts by making it impossible to communicate effectively!” But I dunno, that doesn’t sound much like a God of love, nor a God who later prays for his disciples, on the eve of his crucifixion, “I pray that they would be one.” 

I think the real issue God is dealing with in this story is that the people wanted uniformity, and God instead pushes them toward diversity. Uniformity gets us nowhere; diversity is what causes us to grow, and what brings richness to our lives! And look around – our God is a God who values and celebrates diversity! Just look at the variety of butterflies, ice cream flavors, and smells in the world. Look at the creative minds that have given us everything from indoor plumbing to the Sistine Chapel, from Pride and Prejudice to space travel. The diversity attributed to Babel is not a penalty – it is what allows people to see that God is much vaster than a single mind, language, or culture can grasp. And this is a very good thing! It keeps our humility in check, and reminds us just how mysterious our God is. God cannot be contained by a human mind. You see diversity of language and culture is not a problem to be solved. Diversity is not a penalty; it is a value.

Unless… unless we allow it to divide our communities. We’re all too familiar with this! Just like those who were building the Silo of Babel, a place where they could relish in their sameness, we still find ourselves drawn toward expecting others to be, think and act like us, at least in the ways we deem most important. Even churches and other communities that fancy themselves to be “accepting and welcoming of all!” too often mean, “We accept and welcome everyone… except those who aren’t as open-minded as we are!” I have a friend who says of himself, “I’m not a bigot, except about people who are bigoted!” I admire his self-awareness! 

Enter the Holy Spirit on that Day of Pentecost. We sometimes talk about Pentecost as a reversal of Babel. “God scrambled the languages at Babel,” we say, “and at Pentecost, everyone could once again understand each other.” But that’s not quite right. Pentecost does not reverse or undo the diversity of those gathered. The text doesn’t say, “The crowd was bewildered because each was speaking the same language.” It says they were bewildered “because each one heard them speaking in the native tongue of each.” They were not amazed by sameness. They were amazed that, even in their diversity, they could communicate and understand one another, as the Spirit gave them ability.

You see, diversity is not a barrier for the Spirit. And so, in a Spirit-filled gathering, diversity is also not a barrier to community. As people of the Spirit, we are not only equipped for community, but also sent to create it, through the proclamation of the good news of Jesus Christ. Peter hops right up and starts preaching, and people are baptized. The rest of the book of Acts recounts the ways Jesus’ followers listened to the urgings of the Spirit, proclaiming a message of life and salvation. By that same Spirit, churches are planted and begin to grow around the region and then to the ends of the world. Along the way, these proclaimers of Christ are met with all manner of diversity – people of different languages and cultures, an Ethiopian eunuch, uncircumcised Gentiles like Cornelius, women like Lydia and Dorcas, murderous Pharisees like Saul. And while these disparate peoples all came to find unity around the cross of Christ, they did not give up the beautiful diversity that God had made possible. 

The Early Church was richer for it, and so are we today. Within our congregation, we have a lot of homogeneity. But we also have a beautiful diversity – age, background, political beliefs, hopes and dreams, hobbies, sexual or gender identity, education, skills. I count this as a great gift. Even though it can also be a real pain, our differences give us a greater sense of the vastness of God. I pray that we will find ever more ways to embrace diversity here, to hear other voices, to understand other cultures and life experiences, trusting all along that the Spirit gives us ability to gather as one body of Christ, washed and welcomed, fed and forgiven, and absolutely beloved by our mysterious God. 

Let us pray… God of variety and diversity and mystery, you have marvelously made us, each unique. Help us to see the diversity around us as an opportunity to see and to celebrate your vastness. And into our difference, send your Spirit of truth, that we might seek always to understand one another. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.