Pentecost

PENTECOST SUNDAY, June 5, 2022
“No Distinctions” (Acts 2:1-8, 12-18)
Excitedly, I told my brother about this course I had just taken. His response? “How can you still be studying?” The clear implication was that at my age and stage, I should long be finished. The reality? There is no end in sight. This is particularly true when it comes to scripture. I have been part of Bible study groups since childhood, but I am always learning something new. At times, this comes from scholars with fresh insights into the language, culture or context in which the books were written. Most of the time, it’s from the questions, and comments of other participants in the group.

This is true for the one here at Churchill-Gilford. Take the other Thursday. We were looking at the story in Luke of Jesus’ restoring to life the twelve year old daughter of a synagogue leader. Someone noticed that Jesus did not take all the disciples with him into the girl’s room, but only Peter, James and John. I explained: “They are Jesus’ inner circle. They are the ones who will go with him up Mount Tabor at the time of the transfiguration, and accompany him in the Garden of Gethsemane.” I was ready to move on when I heard: “this reminds me of cliques in High School.” Heads nodded as memories of the jocks, the popular girls, the cheerleaders, the cool kids came into our minds. I had always thought of the inner circle as simply a first century version of the executive of a church board – totally innocuous – but suddenly I was seeing it in a whole new light. What if we were Andrew, watching our own brother along with the other two fisher brothers going off with Jesus while we remained on the outside? What if we were one of the “certain women” lumped together at the beginning of Acts after all of the remaining eleven are named? It’s interesting, isn’t it? As long as we are part of the in-group, we don’t tend to notice the distinctions that are being made, the barriers, erected. Things look entirely different, however, when we are on the outside, when we are the ones bumping up against the walls.

Jesus draws into community a diverse group of individuals. He includes women as well as men; people who are probably well off like the tax collector, Matthew, and people who have little or nothing like Mary Magdalene whom he heals. Jesus tells them over and over that in God’s realm of justice and peace, things don’t work as in the Roman world where the powerful lord it over everyone else, and assert their authority. And yet, the disciples still at times vie for position, and argue over who is the greatest. God’s love may be all embracing. God may make no distinctions. But we human beings seem to delight in them.

We create divisions between insiders and outsiders. When I was growing up in St. John’s United Church in Oakville, communion was a momentous occasion, held four times a year. Beforehand, the elders would come to the house to deliver communion cards. On the actual day, plates with tiny cubes of bread and trays with small glasses of grape juice would be passed along the pews. Only those who had been confirmed could partake. On the day of my confirmation, I was in fear and trembling that I would drop the bread or fail to pass the tray of juice correctly. Never did it cross my mind that while I was becoming a member of the in-crowd, others were still excluded from Christ’s table.

To me, it seemed natural to have the requirement of confirmation. It was only as I watched families coming forward together, as I, their minister, tore off a piece of bread, and bent way down to place it in a small hand – “Jesus Christ, the bread of life” – that I wondered why I had ever thought it was right and proper to pass a plate right over a child. Children may not have an adult’s understanding of theology, but hadn’t Jesus insisted: “Let the little children come to me”?
Still, I was certain that confirmation was a necessary step on the journey and a person had to be at least 13 years old and in Grade 9 to be eligible. Then my elders in Greenridge United Church informed me that with those rules none of them would qualify they had all left school after grade 8. These were men of faith, with wisdom gained from years of growing crops in challenging prairie weather, and engaging in God’s mission and ministry through times of economic struggle and social change. I realized: I had created an artificial and unnecessary barrier. I dropped that requirement. But still I was sure we needed confirmation classes, following the curriculum produced by the United Church. At our first session, I opened, as suggested, by going round the circle with each participant reading a verse from a Bible passage. It immediately became apparent that this was an impossible task for two of the young men. School had never been their thing, but they really wanted to join the church. Looking into their earnest faces, I recognized: it was the curriculum that had to go. We would all still be learning, still reflecting and discussing, but without any requirement to read.

I thought I had arrived. No more barriers! Then I was approached about a member of L’Arche Daybreak. Amanda, a young woman with Down’s Syndrome, who had been attending Richmond Hill United regularly wanted to be confirmed. Could she, with her assistant attend the classes? I wasn’t sure about this: how would the others – all teenagers in High School – engage with twenty-something Amanda; would Amanda feel lost in the discussions and left out? In the end, it was decided to include Amanda. Never did anyone look happier and prouder at her confirmation than Amanda. Never was a group of young people more blessed than this one who got the chance to spend time with her.

We human beings seem to be very good at creating barriers between insiders and outsiders, sometimes intentionally, sometimes inadvertently. These barriers can be physical. I have met people who are reluctant to even set foot in a church because of the architecture – who knows what goes on behind those solid wood doors and the stained glass windows? Wesley United, Eady, is a wonderfully warm community of faith, ready to welcome commuters moving into a new subdivision and retirees from the city opting for the country life. It was only when one of their children was badly injured in a car accident that they realized accessibility was an issue. Their flight of stairs barred anyone in a wheelchair or needing a walker. Barriers may be accepted customs. If everyone dresses up for church, people in jeans and tee shirts may feel they cannot come. If congregational members know, as in a church in Glasgow, that after the service, they have tea in one location, while the choir has it in another, an uninstructed visitor, such as I may innocently wander into the wrong place, only to be met with coldness and a turning away.

We human beings may be good at making distinctions, but not the Holy Spirit. Just look at the story of Pentecost as told by the author of Acts. The wind rushes through the entire room, blowing open the shutters and rattling the doors – no walls are going to contain it! Tongues of flame rest on the heads, not just of the inner circle of Peter, James and John or on the original eleven disciples plus Mattias, Judas Iscariot’s replacement, and not just on the men, but on absolutely everyone gathered in that place. The Spirit which at one time was thought to be a gift conferred only on prophets and kings is now freely poured out on all flesh just as the prophet, Joel, had dreamed. No distinctions. This gift is not just for the select few who will provide leadership for the growing Jesus’ movement, anymore than today it is only for those in ordered ministry. As you so rightly note on the front of your leaflet: your ministers are you, the people of this community of faith, together with whoever you appoint or call.

God does not make distinctions and appears to delight in breaking down any and all barriers we might set up. Notice what happens in this story. These followers of Jesus are meeting behind closed doors, but passers-by on the street hear the wind and notice the commotion. The work of the Spirit is not limited to those who are already part of the movement. A diverse group of outsiders are drawn to this place where wonder of wonders they each hear the good news in their own language. This is kind of a reversal of the Tower of Babel where language became confused and human beings, scattered over the face of the earth. It’s almost as if they have some sort of universal translator like the one in “Star Trek” – are any of you Trekkies? – where a piece of technology enables communication between the crew of the “Enterprise” and any alien culture they encounter. Diversity remains, but understanding becomes possible.
The Spirit makes no distinction between those who gather inside these walls and those outside. For us on the inside, the invitation is to recognize the Spirit’s activity and rejoice in the fresh breezes wherever they may blow. The challenge is to join with others in whatever work the Spirit inspires. Thanks be to God for the invitation and the challenge. Amen.