There once was a mother Mouse walking down the road with her little ones around her, when suddenly an enormous Cat appeared. The little mice screamed and tried to hide behind their mother. But the mother turned bravely to face the Cat and said to it, "BOW, WOW!" As the Cat ran away, the Mother Mouse looked at her children and said, "Let that be a lesson to you. Never underestimate the value of a second language! (Barry Robinson, June 2001)
When the day of Pentecost came, the disciples were huddled in the Upper Room, afraid. Afraid of those who had sought after the death of Jesus, afraid their faith wasn't enough to sustain. In Rancho Cucumonga, California this week, three men with freshly shaven heads entered a church. Because of their suspicious behavior and bald heads they were mistaken for skin heads. After their second visit, the police were called. It turns out the three men were Marines, just returned from Iraq and looking for a friend. The Rev. Patrick Kirsch explained what had happened to relieved parishioners, and said he considered the matter closed. "We don't want to make it more than it is," he said. "I was reassured by the police that the men wouldn't be back." In Waynesville, North Carolina, a Baptist church split when their 33 year old pastor suggested that those who had voted in certain ways should re-consider being members of that congregation. After the furor that resulted the pastor resigned from the church, taking about 35 people with him. I tell you those stories not to pass judgment on these congregations, but as a reminder of how close we are to them. Like the disciples huddled in the Upper Room we find ourselves wrapped in our fear-we are like those two churches and become afraid of strangers; afraid even of each other. We speak the language of fear.
Way back in the very beginning the Spirit moved across the face of the earth, breathing life into the world. In the story of Babel human beings reversed the goodness of creation. Humanity tried to be what it was never meant to be and went to build a tower to God. Proudness ruled…and we were scattered and divided….flung across the earth to go our own ways. Language and culture and custom divided us. We lived in fear of others. We spoke the language of disobedience.
"When the Day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. 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….All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability." Today we celebrate Pentecost…Pentecost meaning 50, 50 days after Easter. It is the giving of a second language. The Spirit gives power to the disciples to reverse their fear and speak the language of love that gives them the ability to proclaim the love of God in Jesus Christ. At first glance Pentecost seems like the chaos of scattering as in Babel. Winds blowing, flames flying, the Spirit moving. But this chaos is different. Scientists know that sometimes in an unstable system you need to add a bit more instability, a bit more chaos to bring things to order. So it is on this day…the Spirit's own chaos breathed into the fear and uncertainty of the disciples' faith and moved them to proclaim the Word of God…to speak the language of love.
This second language was given on this day and they were able to preach the Good News. The church came alive on that day. We see it in Peter. Peter, who had denied Jesus in the courtyard as Jesus was being sentenced. Peter, who said he would follow Jesus anywhere, yet was no where to be found at the crucifixion. Peter who had to be asked three times if he loved Jesus. It is on this day that Peter finds his voice, lets go of his fears, and is the first one to stand up and speak. Peter gets his second language.
When we as the church receive the power of Pentecost, we find our voice. The "Resident Aliens", William Willimon tells this story of the church finding its voice. It comes from the days of forced school integration: "In a packed auditorium, speaker after speaker condemned the court's order and urged people to resist. Then, sometime well into the tension filled evening, the pastor of the local Baptist church came in. With great dignity and presence, he walked to the front of the auditorium and took a seat. He listened for a while. Then he rose to speak. When the presider saw him rise, he immediately yielded the microphone and invited him to speak. The pastor, who had served in that congregation, in that community for decades, spoke in deliberate, grave tones. 'I am ashamed. I am ashamed. I have labored here for many years. I have baptized, preached to, and counseled with many6 in this room. I might have though that my preaching of the gospel had done some good. But tonight I think differently. I cannot speak to those of you who are not in my congregation, but to those who are, I can only say that I am hurt and ashamed of you and might have expected more.' He then left the podium and walked out of the auditorium. The meeting resumed awkwardly, but, one by one, most of the members of the Baptist church quietly left the room until the auditorium was half empty and the meeting dribbled off with no action taken. The schools integrated the next month without incident. There was a pastor, an ordinary person, who had labored for decades doing ordinary things like baptisms and marriages among ordinary people, for the privilege of being a witness one night in August."
The church finding its voice. In these chaotic times, when everything seems so complicated we are being asked to find our voice. One of the ways we are being asked is to participate in whatever way we can in our capital campaign. For the past several weeks you have been hearing about the plans for this campaign. It is easy to look around and be fearful for this process, to wonder why now. I take heart in knowing that generations before me have captured the language of love and made sure there was a church for me. Their vision inspires me, inspires us to claim the promises. Their vision made a place for us who sit here today. We have that same opportunity now…to make a place of welcome….a place of welcome not only for those who we need to seek out today; but also a place of welcome for future generations. And because we speak the language of Pentecost today, maybe they will be able to speak that language tomorrow. Next week I invite you to come and claim the language of love for this church and its buildings.
We will sing this morning: "At Pentecost some people, received the Holy Spirit…I am the church, you are the church, we are the church together." On Pentecost the church is born, the church receives its voice. The language of fear is transformed into the language of love. That language of love proclaimed in the cross of Jesus Christ is greater than anything this world can conjure up. Never underestimate the power of that language as you go out to confront a world fear-filled world.