Sermon preached by the Reverend Nicholas Lang, Rector

St. Paul’s on the Green, Norwalk, Connecticut

Pentecost, May 27, 2007

Come, listen! The voice of the Spirit speaks within the whole of life. Come, open your minds! In the Name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Fire and wind. How familiar they are to us. If you’ve ever had a fire in your home, you know the intensity of the flames and the devastation that can ensue. Some of you may remember the fire we had on the roof of the Chittim-Howell House six years ago; but for the speedy response of our firefighters, we may have lost that lovely old building.

And wind – how much damage have we seen because of that force of nature? How often have some of you lost electricity? Just a week ago we heard warnings of a possible tornado in parts of the state – a very scary experience. So fire and wind, the signs of the coming of the Holy Spirit, familiar as they are to us, are not very comforting images.

The first reading was from the New Testament book called “The Acts of the Apostles.” It might just as well be called “A Story of How the Church Began.” The scene is the Jewish Feast of Weeks which the Greek-speaking Jews called “Pentecost.” It was a joyful celebration that occurred fifty days after Passover. The disciples of Jesus were gathered together in Jerusalem and, all of a sudden, all holy hell broke loose – a rushing blast of wind blew through the room and visible tongues of fire settled on each of them.

Miraculous things happened immediately. The cowering, meshugana disciples got up, left their hiding place, went out into the streets and preached the Good News about Jesus Christ. Everyone in the city – and there were many representing different nationalities who spoke different languages – understood every word they said. Thousands of lives were transformed by the preaching that day and the membership of Christ’s newly born church grew by a percentage that was just off the charts. And the rest of the Book of Acts is full of these stories of miracles and transformations and great wonders. Two thousand years later, do we believe in a God who still acts like that?

You probably all know that our planet earth is wrapped in the protective commodity we call the atmosphere which separates the air we breathe from cold outer space. I was reminded by something I read this week that beneath this protective veil is all the air there ever was from the beginning of creation. If that is a scientific truth, then every time we breathe, we breathe the same air that the disciples breathed two thousand years ago.

I mention this because I think it is so important for us to make a direct connection to the Pentecost event in first century Jerusalem. I don’t think it’s enough just to read about it or just remember it. I think we need to feel like a life-line connection with it.

I believe that because we need to understand that the Holy Spirit like the air we breathe is timeless and is as much present in our midst right now as She was two thousand years ago. And I believe that the same miraculous, life-transforming events can and do happen when the church claims and recognizes the power with which God has blessed it.

Could the church, could we possibly be scared of the Holy Spirit? Well, let’s look at how we celebrate this feast. Typically, churches incorporate various gimmicks like birthday cakes with red icing and helium balloons and, yes, we follow suit with our signature hovering dove in procession.

I think we like that picture of the Spirit as the harmless bird. I think we like to describe the Holy Spirit with reassuring language like “Comforter,” “Paraclete,” “Consoler,” as the giver of enlightenment. I recall how, anytime we were having a major exam in school, the nuns would lead us in a familiar prayer for wisdom as if the Holy Ghost would settle in our brains and feed us the answers we didn’t know. But that’s not the kind of Holy Spirit the church met in Jerusalem on Pentecost. There was wind and there was fire and what happened next was beyond the control of the disciples.

I think one of our great challenges as the church of the twenty-first century is to come to terms with the reality that this unbridled, wonderfully impetuous holy life force is as present to us today as in first century Jerusalem. The evidence is there – right before our eyes. Look for the evidence of Holy Spirit power primarily in three expressions. Look for it in the sense of new beginnings that are present in our lives – in new awakenings, new perspectives, new attitudes, new dreams. Think about how our lives have been enriched by new beginnings even in the past few months.

Look for the evidence of the Spirit of God in the way we are led into relationship – the way reconciliation happens with someone with whom we have become estranged and the way new faces appear in our lives and how we forge deep, caring friendships with those whom a year ago we never knew existed.

For Mackenzie Grace Raymond and Kirsten Alexandra Osland today brings both that sense of new beginning and new relationships. Philip Turner, former dean at Yale Divinity School says we become members of a household in baptism and are given both family and friends in such a way that the terrible problem of loneliness is, in principle, overcome by incorporation into God’s family.

Finally, and this is often the place where the Holy Spirit is so terribly stifled, look for evidence of that power in the community of the church – the local church where we worship. Is there new life in the place? Is there growth? Is there a new creation? Or is the life and worship stagnant because people have muffled the wind, stomped out the fire, closeted the Holy Spirit so that everything stays the same and everyone can be real comfortable. It’s kind of like that ad for Capital One – “What’s in your wallet?” “What’s in your church?” Can you find evidence of the Holy Spirit?

Two years ago today – another Pentecost Sunday – I gave you the news that our pipe organ was on the verge of collapse. I took a deep breath and named the amount of money we would need to rebuild it. Two short years later we are surrounded by the splendid sound of this restored instrument – a new beginning wrought by new relationships, an enormous testimony of the power of the Holy Spirit blowing through this place. And now we’re in the midst of restoring this superb sacred building so that when that Holy Wind rushes through, the tower will withstand the strain.

And in that same Pentecost sermon I said that the Holy Spirit wants us to figure out what it is that we hope for, and then to live inside that hope, under its roof. The Holy Spirit wants us to envision the future as it should be, and then to live as if that future is already here.

Our question of the day as we look back on that first Pentecost and the wonderful and miraculous events that unfolded is simply this: “Do we believe in a God who still acts like that?” If we do – and if we live as if we do – can we imagine what is in store for us?

If we abandon all efforts to be in control and just let the Holy Spirit rip through the fabric of this place can we create a vision of what life will look like in the parish of St. Paul’s on the Pentecosts to come? The evidence speaks for itself. New beginnings. New relationships. New and richer life in this community. Gods deeds of power.

So what if we really go out on a limb together and utter those three reckless words: “Come, Holy Spirit!” – the subtext being “Bring it on. Consume us. Fill our hearts with the fire of your love. Let those winds howl and really shake this place up.”

Be careful. Expect an uproar. The Spirit might just blow through our lives, rearranging and recreating and maybe even setting our hearts on fire. Do we believe in a God who still acts like that? How could we not? It’s an experience as familiar as wind and fire.