Day of Pentecost + June 5, 2022 + Genesis 11:1-9; Acts 2:1-21 + Pr. Craig Mueller
I don’t understand.
For those of us who talk a lot, not being able to communicate in another language, leaves us, well, speechless.
Ernest and I were visiting Cappadocia, a region of Turkey, in 2016. We went off for a long hike, outside a town called Goreme. The path meandered this way and that way. Eventually we realized we were lost. We couldn’t figure out the way back. And then it started raining. We had no umbrellas. We saw a farm ahead. And then two men on a motorcycle. We tried to communicate with them. But they spoke no English. And we didn’t speak whatever language they spoke. We tried to point. We tried to say the name of the town we wanted to get back to. All to no avail. We simply could not understand each other.
So we walked and walked. And finally got to a town. And took a cab back to Goreme. Ernest was already measuring steps back then, so we know it was the longest “hike” we’ve ever had. 38,000 steps or so. Six hours of walking. And we were soaked. All because we could not understand the language of our host country.
When I travel, I am always amazed how English is spoken as the second language in so many places. Unless you get out from the touristy areas, of course, as we learned that day! It makes it too easy for us Americans to think everyone should speak English, so we don’t need to learn a second or third language. And I regret that my measly two years of German and Spanish many years ago don’t take me very far in a conversation. Hola, que tal, me llamo Paco. Y tu como te llamas? And so forth.
Pentecost, the third major feast of the Christian year, is about the Holy Spirit. And the stories of Pentecost are about language and about understanding.
Many of us remember the story of the tower of Babel from Sunday School. When the people build a huge tower into the sky, the ancient God of this story isn’t pleased. The folks are trying to make a name for themselves, forgetting they are not God. Getting too big for their britches, as some might put it. Previously there had been just one language, as the story goes. And God confuses—mixes up— their speech. Now the people cannot understand one another. It seems the story was told to explain why there are so many languages. But what is troubling is that diversity seems to be the result of God’s punishment.
Now turn to the Pentecost story in Acts. The crowd is all Jewish. But they speak every language under heaven. A little United Nations. Dozens of different ethnic identities. Here’s the amazing thing that happens. When the disciples and their friends begin to speak in other tongues, the crowd outside understands them in their own language. What the outsiders, so to speak, find perplexing—and totally awesome—is that the good news is being proclaimed to them in their mother tongue. They are not to be treated as outsiders. There is one language of the Spirit that unites all people.
Pentecost is truly a feast that a congregation like Holy Trinity loves. It celebrates the diversity of human peoples. There is room for all.
But is there room for people who don’t understand? Who don’t get it? Who question their faith? Who wonder what in the world is a Holy Spirit? Who see a country that predominantly speaks English but speaks completely different languages of culture, politics, and religion? Where some are suspicious of outsiders from other countries, religious, or ways of life.
So how important is understanding? We have five youth affirming their baptism today. They have grown up in this church. They have been taught that questions are okay, are even good. They have heard that because of God’s grace everyone is welcome.
But they, like all of us, live in a complicated world. A world hard to understand at times. The final assignment for the confirmation students was to answer seven questions. My favorite is: if they could, what they would ask God. Here are some of their questions. Does everyone go to heaven? Why is there so much hate in the world? Does the bible contain real events? Why should I believe in God? Is God truly all-powerful?
Here is my question. Is being a follower of Jesus about having the right answers or living with the questions?
There comes a time when so many questions blow our minds. And we realize we may never understand all the mysteries of life, the mysteries of God, the mysteries of faith. It’s hard enough to understand ourselves, let’s be honest.
Yet gradually we become okay with not understanding everything. Through an energy we call the Holy Spirit we sense deep truths at heart of the universe. Like love. And peace. And hope. And yes, diversity.
In olden times, confirmation students had to memorize Martin Luther’s Small Catechism. Anybody here remember doing that? If so, you recognize these words: “I believe that by my own understanding I cannot believe in Jesus Christ . . but instead the Holy Spirit has called me through the gospel.”
On our own we cannot understand. On our own we cannot understand why there is evil in the world. We cannot understand why innocent children were killed in Texas. We cannot understand why there is so much evil, hate, discrimination, and prejudice in the world. We cannot understand why at times we feel so alone, so hopeless, so empty.
Pentecost is about community. The Holy Spirit is about community. Something happens when we gather in this place. Something happens when we immerse people in the waters of baptism. Something happens when we eat bread and drink wine at this table. Something happens when we hear the good news that Christ is risen and we are sent to be Pentecost people for the world.
We learn a different language in this place. A language unlike any other. The language of forgiveness. The language of mercy. The language of acceptance. The language of diversity. A language that calls us to love this world and do all what we can to make it a better place.
There is a lot we may never understand. Yet the Holy Spirit teaches us how to listen rather than speak. How to honor someone else’s faith and their doubt. How to not simply respect the diversity of the human family, but to revel in it.
And little by little, we begin to understand.