Pentecost 2013 (May 19)
In 2010, Beverly Gaventa, Professor of New Testament at Princeton Theological Seminary did a google search for the phrase, ‘spiritual but not religious.’ She came up with 1,360,000 hits. That was three years ago. Many people have commented on how that phrase, spiritual but not religious, or sbnr in the crowds I travel in, suggests an implicit and explicit disdain for religious communities. What Professor Gaventa draws attention to, though, is how spirituality has become a personality trait. People describe themselves as quiet, or friendly, or intense, or laid back, or spiritual. She writes this. “The celebration of Pentecost invites us to reflect on the spirit (or spirituality) as something other than a trait attached to certain individual personalities (and presumably not to others). In the context of biblical tradition, spirituality, instead, is a gift poured out by the Holy Spirit, one that astonishes and empowers in the present even as it anticipates God’s future triumph.” (http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=595)
I doubt the folk hiding out in that room on the day of Pentecost would have described themselves as spiritual people. But when that thing that happened in that room happened, something in them changed quite dramatically. Instead of staying hidden in there less the authorities find them and do to them what they did to Jesus, they went running out into the streets ‘proclaiming the mighty works of God.’
These were the same people who were so clueless all that time they were with Jesus, including after his resurrection. But suddenly inspiration (or in spiriting) struck. As they were filled with that inspired, or spiritual, knowledge of Jesus, their fears fell away. They became spirit filled or spiritual people.
We don’t know what exactly happened in that room. A mighty wind. A room full of smoke. The Spirit alighting on all their heads like a flame. It’s the stuff the dreams of Pentecostals are made of. But notice when they went running out into the streets they didn’t talk about what just happened in that room. And the tongues they were speaking were not the ecstatic language of angles that were their tickets into the Charismatic renewal, but the languages of the people who had come from all over that part of the world for the festival.
Some call the day of Pentecost the undoing of Babel. Do you remember the story of the tower of Babel? That’s the story in Genesis 11 where the people decided they were going to build a tower to reach to heaven, evidently to raise themselves to the authority of God. God’s response is to give them different languages so they can no longer communicate with each other. The story behind the myth may well be the propensity for people to divide themselves off from each other, and withdraw to their conclaves of not only language, but race, and nationality, and gender, and class, and sexuality, and all those other confines.
On the day of Pentecost, though, everybody understood what was being said. The walls were coming down. And that is the heart of what Jesus was about. That’s the work of the Spirit; not getting everybody to speak the same language but starting to listen to each other and hear something they never expected to hear. The preacher Bruce Epperly writes this about the day of Pentecost, “Good news can’t be sequestered or kept to ourselves. Spirit bursts forth. The first Christians are driven to the streets, sharing good news, speaking in unfamiliar voices and being heard across culture and ethnicity. Everyone gets the message. Diversity is no longer an impediment to unity but precisely the vehicle for the Spirit’s movements.” (http://www.patheos.com/blogs/livingaholyadventure/2013/05/the-adventurous-lectionary-pentecost/)
That’s the spirituality of the book of Acts, something that creates community, something that understands that the walls we erect don’t serve so much to keep others out, but to keep us in. Maybe it’s not only that fear of the other that drives us behind the walls, but what we fear about ourselves. So we set the boundaries not only to keep others from stepping into our space, but to keep us from stepping out. But here comes the Spirit not only invading our space, but sending us beyond our own walls of fear into the spaces of others. And we start understanding each other. And the point isn’t that they change, but that we change. That seems to be something we can call spirituality.
When those first Jesus followers went running out into the streets of Jerusalem, all they could do was talk about Jesus. Their spirituality wasn’t a statement about who they were, but who Jesus was. They began to realize that all those Parthians and Medes, Egyptians and Libyans, and even Cretans were not only people Jesus loved, but people Jesus respected. This Good News of the Realm of God could fare just as well in the hearts and hands and voices of the Elamites and the people of Mesopotamia as it could in that small little band of Jesus followers who were now raising their voices in the streets of Jerusalem. Jesus welcomed everybody. Here was Peter proclaiming that the Spirit of God was being poured out on everyone, women as well as men, the young as well as the old. These limits about who could understand God and speak God’s word were being cast aside. This was the stuff of the spirit, the spirituality of Pentecost.
Like the spiritual but not religious folk of our day, they too were rejecting the religious order. But they weren’t rejecting religion. Jesus had shown them something about how connecting with God connected them with others and vise versa. He had boiled it all down to two commandments, love God and love each other. This was the spirituality he had been talking about. And even though Jesus saw what religion could turn into when it went bad, he never told anybody to give up on religion, but to do something about it.
In John’s gospel Jesus had this long discourse with his followers before he was crucified. He knew his time was at hand, but he also knew, or believed anyway, that didn’t mean the end of the movement. In the 14th chapter he talks about his followers doing greater things than he has done. That is such an amazing statement. How can we even imagine such a thing? And if we can’t imagine it, how could Jesus? But he followed up that statement by talking about the coming of the Spirit. That’s the key for Jesus. It’s the Spirit of Truth that will enable and inspire and conspire with us to do those greater works Jesus had in mind.
And it started happening pretty quickly. When Jesus died they could only muster about 120 folk who were willing to name themselves as his followers, and it looked like it was going to get smaller. By the end of that Pentecost Day, though, there were more than 3,000. And it went from there all the way to here.
I guess you could argue that Peter and the others were just better evangelists than Jesus. That argument might work if there hadn’t been that detail about the coming of the Spirit. These folk were changed. And they were ready to change the world, to challenge the Roman empire with the Realm of God. It makes this trinity thing seem kind of like a group project.
The Spirituality of Pentecost was not seen as God offering some kind of personality trait, or even suggesting what Christians so often do by saying that a really spiritual person is a person who prays and reads their Bible a lot and goes to church all the time. Spirituality isn’t something we possess, but something that possesses us. And there is something scary about that. But those people in that room on the day of Pentecost were more afraid when they came slinking into it than when they left. They were having their own dreams, they were seeing their own visions of a world that could be. They were beginning to see the world Jesus had been trying to get them to see for all that time.
They were spiritual, (spirited) and looking for a new way to be religious. But religious they were going to be because they were learning that Jesus really did reveal God in a new way to them. They knew the windstorm of the Spirit wasn’t limited to that room they had just vacated. It was going to take them to unexpected places and with unexpected people. It was going to be wild and crazy, but it was the pathway of spirituality.