Pentecost Sunday

Some years ago, Episcopalians studying Congregation Development met at General Seminary in New York. Their discussion focused on five Episcopal Churches in Manhattan—four of which had experienced a renaissance and were thriving—and one that was not. What was the common denominator for those four growing congregations and why was one still struggling to hold its own?

It turns out that all four had experienced fire in one of their buildings and had to rebuild some structure, even the church building. Their loss empowered those congregations to rally and stand fast in their determination that their church would rise from the ashes. They would witness resurrection. They would grow. And they did. There’s something about fire that radically changes lives.

Today is Pentecost which for the population gathered in Jerusalem two thousand years ago was a spring agricultural celebration thanking God for the bounty of the first grain harvest. Little did they know what would happen that day. New power was unleashed in the house where the frightened, expectant band of the followers of Jesus had gathered.

When the Holy Spirit fell on them, there was no doubt that their world was about to be turned upside down. The place sizzled, and they were ignited with a blaze of God’s power that gave them a mission: to proclaim the message of God’s love, of salvation and forgiveness to everyone, everywhere, and always. There’s something about fire that radically changes lives.

What we don’t want to miss about this event is the presence of diversity. Acts 1 tells us that there were 120 people gathered in that upper room. Unfortunately, most artistic depictions just show twelve apostles, Matthias having just been selected to replace Judas Iscariot. Can we imagine that large group without women? Certainly, Jesus’ mother Mary was there and Martha and Mary, his dear friends, most likely the other Mary who was at the foot of the cross and I would be surprised if the Samaritan woman from the well was not in their company.

Further evidence of diversity was the many languages and cultures represented in the crowds and the miracle that each person understood Peter’s message in their own language. We see here that diversity was God’s idea first. This month two communities of people who have been marginalized by society and the church celebrate their diversity, one in their pride for the person God created them to be and one in their freedom and emancipation from the sin of slavery.

Black folk in the Episcopal Church were once relegated to the balcony of the building or forced to form exclusive Black parishes and, well, we know that lesbian and gay folk were tolerated as long as they would adapt, not make too much fuss, and pretend to be something that they weren’t. And for a long time, women were excluded from several ministries including serving as lectors, acolytes and members of vestry not to mention any aspiration to ordination.

Thanks be to God that we’ve moved past that time, in many places.  Thanks be to God we live in CT, where people can be who they are and love who they love. Thanks be to God we are Episcopalians, who include all persons into the life of community and ministry. And that is cause for Episcopalian pride on this great feast of the Holy Spirit.

Retired bishop Stephen Charleston, a Native American, once preached that as Episcopalians “our witness is not to conformity but to community. We are not concerned that everyone in the pews believes exactly the same thing, in the same way, at the same time. Instead, we are concerned that no one is left out of those pews because of what they believe, who they are, or where they come from.”

To uphold that standard, we need to be on fire, to claim our calling as disciples in this twenty-first century. Keep the Home-Fires Burning is a British patriotic First World War song composed in 1914 with words by Lena Guilbert Ford. It’s a call to those who were awaiting the return of those who were off fighting in World War I.

It inspired the TV drama, Home Fires, about the life of Women’s Institute members on the Home Front during the Second World War. Their task was to keep the home fires burning until folks returned from war. They were strong, committed women, a force to be reckoned with.

Speaking at a leadership conference some time ago, actor Martin Sheen offered these words: “That fire inside you, burning bright—it’s what keeps you up all night or rising first thing in the morning.

“Without that fire, you’re just another person with an idea. With that fire, you are a force to reckon with, a wind of change, a person on a mission. Therefore, you must keep that fire burning, at all costs.”

The wise Mother Superior of the convent was dying. All the nuns gathered around her bed, trying to make her comfortable. They offered her some warm milk to drink, but she refused. Then one maverick young nun took the glass back to the kitchen and poured a generous amount of brandy into the warm milk.

Back at Mother Superior’s bed, she held the glass to her lips. The old nun drank a little, then a little more. Then, before they knew it, she had polished off the entire glass. “Reverend Mother,” one of the novices cried, “give us some advice and counsel before you leave us.” She raised herself up out of bed with a satisfied grin on her face, and pointing out the window, she exclaimed, “Don’t sell that cow!”

Without the Holy Spirit, the Good News of the Gospel is like warm milk with little flavor, no kick, no power to animate and change. Episcopalians are a force to reckon with, a wind of change, a people on a mission. Therefore, we must keep that fire burning, at all costs. There’s something about fire that radically changes lives. Keep the fire burning. Keep the fire burning.