Sermon: "It's Not About the Pigs"

Luke 8:26-39 – Scripture Intro

In this passage, Jesus travels to the other side of the Sea of Galilee,

outside the land of Judea, where he encounters one of the most bizarre and frightening characters in all of the gospels –

A man possessed by a multitude of demons, who calls himself Legion.

The man is naked, shouting at the top of his lungs, and was likely bruised and battered after having broken free of the shackles that were used to contain him, again and again.

It is no coincidence that the name this demon-possessed man gives to himself is the same name that the Romans used for their military forces.

Historically, a Roman legion was a contingent of about 5,000 soldiers.

We know the name is no coincidence, because Luke also tells us that this encounter with Legion took place in the country of the Gerasene’s.

The region of Gerasene was the setting of a horrific historical event that took place about a decade before Luke wrote his gospel.

According to the first century historian, Josephus, at the end of the Jewish revolt in the late 60’s CE, the Roman general Vespasian sent soldiers to retake the Jewish city of Gerasa.

The Romans rounded up every able bodied man in the city and executed them, took their wives and children captive, then burned the city and every neighboring village to the ground.  Thousands were killed.

Most of the victims of the Roman legions were buried in the Gerasene tombs – a vast expanse of caves in a now empty dessert, where only the dead and the as-good-as-dead resided.    (Think 9/11)

This is where Jesus found the man possessed by thousands of evil souls,

who collectively called themselves, Legion.

Jesus goes on to heal the man of his possession, but in the process we’re left to ponder the political, historical, and spiritual undertones of this passage,

as not everyone who learns of the healing is happy that it occurred.

As you listen to the story, pay attention to what feelings arise in you…

when you first encounter the naked and screaming Legion and when you’re told there’s no longer a reason to fear him, because he has been healed.

Let’s listen to the passage from the Gospel of Luke, and listen also for the Word of God:

Luke 8:26-39

Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee.

As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him.

For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs.  When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me”— for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.)

Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss. Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission.  Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned.

When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country.

Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid.

Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear.

So he got into the boat and returned.  The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.”

So he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him.

The Rev. Maureen R. Frescott

Congregational Church of Amherst, UCC

June 23, 2019 – Second Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 8:26-30

“It’s Not About the Pigs”

How many of you have read “War and Peace” by Leo Tolstoy?

(and I mean read the whole thing – not started it, put it down, and left it on your nightstand never to pick it up again?)

How many of you have read “Ulysses” by James Joyce?  Also cover to cover?

How many of you have read and finished “The Sound and the Fury” by William Faulkner?

How many of you tried to read any of the three and never made it through?

If you have read these books – either completely or partially – congratulations, you have tackled three of the most difficult books ever written, according to an extensive poll taken amongst avid readers.

Even those who love to read rated these books to be challenging –

for their language, content, and length.

Works by William Shakespeare, Geoffrey Chaucer, and Charles Dickens also made the list of difficult books.

While many of us may have read or attempted to read these works in high school or college, what the poll also tells us is that there isn’t a huge percentage of average readers who fully understood them or enjoyed them enough to want to go back and read them again and again.

Then we have the Bible.

Which it may come as no surprise to you also wound up on the list of books deemed difficult and challenging to read.

Don’t worry, I won’t ask how many of you have read it from cover to cover.

But you may be interested to know that 20% of Americans claim to have read the Bible in its entirety at least once or more than once.

27% said they’ve read at least half of it.

And 53% said they’ve read a few passages here and there, or none of it at all.

This in contrast to another unsurprising statistic:

According to the American Bible Society, nine out of ten US households contain a Bible, and the average household has three.

So why aren’t we reading it?

Even among regular churchgoers, very few pick up the Bible and read it on a regular basis.

As one researcher said, “The only time most Americans hear from the Bible is when someone else is reading it.”

When poll responders were asked why they aren’t reading the Bible,

some said they don’t have the time or they don’t prioritize it,

or they’ve read it so many times so there’s no reason to read it again (somehow I question that last one).

But for the most part people said they don’t read the Bible because it’s difficult to understand, or they struggle to relate it to their own lives,

or there’s too much in it that they either disagree with or doesn’t represent their understanding of God and how God intends for us to live in the world.

The passage we read this morning from the Gospel of Luke is a prime example of all above.  

It’s confusing, deals with a subject matter we don’t fully understand,

and challenges our modern day perceptions of who God is and perhaps who Jesus is as well.

First - this passage revolves around a demonic possession.

Which automatically causes some of us to dismiss it.

Because we don’t believe in demons or possessions,

or we think it’s an outdated understanding of physical or mental illness,

or it conjures up images of Linda Blair in the Exorcist or other pop culture portrayals of demonic beings that only serve as a distraction and cause us to not take this text very seriously.

Second, we’re given specific details in this passage that may leave us confused because we’re unaware of their original meaning and context –

like the aforementioned inclusion of the name Legion and the location of the encounter in the country of the Gerasenes. 

Lacking an understanding of the historical context, we may overlook these details entirely and never reach the depth of interpretation that the author,

or Jesus, intended.

And finally we have the pigs.

The poor innocent pigs.

Who were just minding their own business hanging out on the hillside when Jesus sent a legion of demons into them causing them to run headlong into a lake and drown themselves.

That image alone is enough to distract some us from the rest of the passage.

Because we feel bad for the pigs who lost their lives.

And we feel bad for the pig herders who lost their livelihood and means of feeding their families.

Some of us may be left questioning Jesus’ compassion and sense of justice –  for the pigs and the pig herders –

as we wonder if we should be reporting him to the ASPCA and the ACLU.

The point is, there’s a lot here that can trip us up, or distract us,

or cause us to completely miss the depth of meaning in this passage.

Because it really is a beautiful passage with a wonderful message.

And I can tell you – it’s not about the pigs.

Legion is a man with a past.

Regardless of how he came to be in his current state – our first impression of him is of a man possessed – with an illness, with a debilitating pain, with a traumatic experience that has left him naked and screaming – and hiding in the tombs in direct defiance of those who had tried to contain him.

We assume that they bound him with shackles so he wouldn’t be a danger to himself or society.

But allowing him to be free was a danger in other ways as well.

In naming himself as Legion,

He invoked the memory of a tragic event that no one wished to relive.

He was the pain of loss and grief.

He was the fear of violence and destruction.

He was the threat of chaos and unpredictability.

Better to keep him locked away so the people would be safe –

as they cast all of their pain and fear and suspicions onto him –

so they didn’t have to acknowledge that it actually resided within themselves.

Jesus, as always, shook things up in an unexpected way when he came sailing across the Galilee and healed the man.

He cast the demons out – the pain, the fear, the wild unpredictability –

and he sent the man back to live among the people.

And the people responded with renewed fear of their own.

We may understand that fear, if we think of how we might respond if we learned that a convicted violent felon is now living next door.

Or how we might respond if that new neighbor was someone who had been repeatedly institutionalized with a mental illness,

or had spent time in a drug rehabilitation facility, on multiple occasions.

or came bearing the uncertain label of refugee, or sanctuary seeker, or undocumented migrant.

How would we respond if Jesus cast them into our midst and said,

“I’ve returned them to their home, so they might declare how much God has done for them.”

We see how the people in Luke’s gospel responded.

They were said to be in great fear of the man – and what he might do next.

And they were said to be in great fear of Jesus – and what he might do next. 

Jesus had a way of stepping into neat and tidy worlds and creating chaos.

He has a way of transforming lives and situations that naturally throws change and unpredictability and instability into the world –

when what we crave is stability, predictability, and sameness.

But we knew what we were getting into with Jesus.

This is the man who announced his ministry by saying,
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me – He has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor, recovery of sight to the blind, release to the captives,

and to let the oppressed go free.”

But release and recovery and setting others free may not be our idea of Good News – when it makes us feel less safe, more fearful, and more suspicious of those who seek to be our neighbor.

Which is why we see resistance to zoning changes that allow low-income housing in our upscale neighborhoods,

And why we hear objections raised when half-way houses or drug rehab programs seek to set up residence in our cities,

And why it’s deemed acceptable to separate and detain migrant families and asylum seekers at our nation’s borders – leaving children traumatized and funneled into a system where they may never see their parent’s again –

because laws were broken and a price must be paid for the transgression –  

so we can feel secure and safely distanced from those who we’ve been told mean to take from us or do us harm.

Legion was screaming in the wilderness.

Wild and naked in his pain.

And Jesus set him free.

The wonderful message here is that our past and our pain does not define us – our trauma, our crime, our illness, our addiction, our fear, our brokenness, our demons do not define us.

And we all have these demons to some degree.

What defines us is our humanness –

and our innate status as beloved children of God.

The Good News of Jesus Christ –

the good news of release and recovery and transformation –

is meant for us all.

It is meant for those of us held captive by our pain,

And those of us held captive by our fear.

If we were to rate our Biblical texts on level of difficulty and readability,

this passage from Luke would likely fall in the challenging range.

It’s confusing, and contextual, and messy, and loaded with uncomfortable triggers that may leave us arguing with Jesus –

Because what’s the deal with the demons,

and what about the pigs,

and why should someone else’s healing take precedence over our fear –

our need to feel safe and secure?

Because the Good News is for all of us.

And the Good News is that truly welcoming someone who needs healing

will drive out our fear – if we allow it –

and we will be healed as well.

Then we too might return home

and tell others how much God has done for us.

Thanks be to God, and Amen.

 

Sermon: "When Wisdom Calls"

Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31 – Scripture Intro

On this Trinity Sunday, the lectionary gives us a passage that helps us to better understand how God moves in our world –

as Creator, Companion, and Spirit.

In this reading from the Book of Proverbs, this presence of God comes alive in the voice of Lady Wisdom.  

"Wisdom” is the most developed personification of God's presence in the Hebrew Scriptures.

The word for Wisdom in Hebrew is “Hokmah,” in Greek it is “Sophia,”

Throughout the Old Testament Wisdom is depicted as a prophet, the establisher of justice, the breath of God that is blown into the world to create order out of chaos.

Wisdom is also consistently named as sister, mother, and an assortment of other female roles in which she symbolizes transcendent power ordering and delighting in the universe.

She is that presence which pervades the world, interacting with both nature and human beings in an effort to lure them along the right path.

Looking through our Christians lens, Wisdom is the Holy Spirit.

In this passage, we’re told that Wisdom was with God at the time the universe was created.

In fact, Wisdom claims that she was the first of God’s creations.

If we look back to the opening line of the book of Genesis, we’re told a wind from God swept over the face of the formless void and there was light.

That wind, that breath of God, was the manifestation of God’s Spirit.

That wind was Wisdom.

We Christians with our Trinitarian theology may think that we developed the concept of God’s Holy Spirit taking up residence in this world to guide us and delight in us.

But our Jewish sisters and brothers were way ahead of us on this one.

In the Hebrew scriptures, Lady Wisdom is a street-wise, justice-driven, passionate figure who wants nothing less than for everyone to follow in her playful, determined footsteps as she seeks both to transform and delight in the created world.

Listen to the words from the book of Proverbs, and listen for the Word of God:

Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31

Does not wisdom call, and does not understanding raise her voice?
On the heights, beside the way, at the crossroads she takes her stand;
beside the gates in front of the town, at the entrance of the portals she cries out:
“To you, O people, I call, and my cry is to all that live.

The Lord created me at the beginning of his work, the first of his acts of long ago.
Ages ago I was set up, at the first, before the beginning of the earth.
When there were no depths I was brought forth,
when there were no springs abounding with water.
Before the mountains had been shaped, before the hills, I was brought forth—
when he had not yet made earth and fields, or the world’s first bits of soil.
When he established the heavens, I was there,
when he drew a circle on the face of the deep,
when he made firm the skies above,
when he established the fountains of the deep,
when he assigned to the sea its limit,
so that the waters might not transgress his command,
when he marked out the foundations of the earth, then I was beside him, like a master worker;
and I was daily his delight, rejoicing before him always,
rejoicing in his inhabited world and delighting in the human race.

Here ends our reading from the Book of Proverbs.

May God grant us understanding of these words. 

The Rev. Maureen R. Frescott

Congregational Church of Amherst, UCC

June 16, 2019 – Trinity Sunday

Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31

“When Wisdom Calls”

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God…”

This opening verse from the Gospel of John was intended to mirror the Creation story we find in the book of Genesis.

For Christians, the Word is Jesus

– the physical manifestation of God’s teachings -

 birthed into this world as a human being –

for us to learn from and lean on and exemplify.

Our Christian scripture tells us that Jesus was with God from the beginning.

And our Jewish scripture tells us that Wisdom was there as well.   

Showing us that from the very beginning creation occurs in community.

From the beginning God was three in one.

One God expressed in three different forms.

Moving in our lives in three different ways.

This is the Trinity in a nutshell.

But if you’re still confused or even wondering why any of this matters,

it might be more helpful to think of the Trinity in terms of family.

You may have noticed in our Call To Worship,

the three different expressions of God are framed in terms of family.

Our father mother Creator.

Our brother Jesus.

Our sister Spirit.

In the simplest of terms, God is a relational being – made up of three expressions of the Divine that live in relationship with one another.

And because WE are created in the image of God –

we are relational beings as well.

We have an innate need to live in relationship - with one another –

with the created world -  and with the power that lies outside of us –

whether we call that power God – or the Universe –

or the collective creative energy, spirit,

and wisdom of all of humanity over all time.

Even those who struggle with their understanding of God would admit to living in relationship with the collective wisdom that informs our lives.

This is a good time to remind ourselves that wisdom and knowledge are not the same thing.

Knowledge centers on facts and ideas that we acquire through study, research, observation, or experience.

Wisdom is the ability to discern and judge which aspects of that knowledge are true, right, lasting, and applicable to our lives.

Knowledge is about learning.

Wisdom informs how we apply what we learn.

Like many of you, much of the wisdom I gleaned early on in life came from my parents.

My father in particular saw it as his role in the family to impart his wisdom upon his children, to ensure that we didn’t make the mistakes that many do.  

From my father we learned commitment and responsibility –

He exemplified the Protestant work ethic.  

He’d leave for work at 6 in the morning and didn’t return until after 6 at night.

On occasion, he would eat dinner and then go back to work until 9 pm.

With ten children to feed and clothe, he discerned that, financially, this was a wise use of his time.

Raising ten children in a tiny 4-bedroom house, he likely also discerned that staying at work an hour or two longer was a wise move for his sanity as well.

From my father we also learned the importance of punctuality and planning. My father was one who liked to arrive at least 2 hours early for any appointment, meeting, or train/plane/or bus departure. 

Just in case he encountered traffic on the way, or the car broke down,

or he missed a turn and got lost.

And if he did get lost, he seemed to think it was wise to never admit it.

At least not to my mother.

My father also leaned heavily on the wisdom of pragmatism and frugality.

When we each turned 18, he made sure we had our own bank account and life insurance policy, and if we had a credit card, we were to pay it off every month and never carry a balance.

In our house, my father also controlled the thermostat, and made sure we never wasted heat by opening a window in a month that contained an “R”.

My father passed along most of his wisdom by example.

He was a man of few words, despite being of Italian descent and a native New Yorker.

When we made a mistake or demonstrated a need for wisdom to be imparted upon us, he would take note of our infraction, sit us down, look us in the eye and say…. “What’s the matter with you…huh?” 

We were never quite sure if this was a rhetorical question or if he actually wanted to know what the matter was with us.

The point of my telling you this, is that like most fathers, my father was far from perfect.

He was exceedingly kind, he had a wonderful sense of humor,

and he was generous to a fault.

He was punctual and pragmatic, and he poured himself into his work –

but he also struggled with patience for those who didn’t do the same.

He liked things to be ordered and predictable, and as we know, both children and life, rarely are either.

It helps us to frame the Trinity in terms of human families because this is our understanding of what it means to live in relationship.

We may call God “father” or “mother” but it’s important to remember that God is not like our human fathers, or our human mothers.

God is not imperfect or limited.

God can handle our chaos, our messiness, our tendency to make mistakes, and offers us unconditional love and grace in return, always.

Likewise, our sister, Wisdom, is not like our human wisdom.

Which is restricted by our human limitations…

Our limited perspective, our limited understanding,

our limited capacity to use our wisdom for the benefit of all,

rather than for the benefit of the small circle of relationships that we’ve cultivated and value.

Our sister, Wisdom, shouted at the city gate:

“To you, O people, I call, and my cry is to all that live” 

She carried within her the wisdom of our all-powerful and un-limited God.

Would she deem it wise to follow the human wisdom that we often rely upon?

The wisdom that tells us it’s practical and frugal to create barriers that keep some on the inside – well fed and favored - while others stand on the outside, with little hope of ever being the same?

The wisdom that tells us that war and violence, and inequity and injustice

are a natural byproduct of our humanness – our aforementioned limitations – and therefore it’s pointless to seek peace, or equity, or justice –

even in a limited way?

The wisdom that tells us it’s compassionate and kind to teach others about a God who loves them unconditionally, while simultaneously creating a list of those who are destined to be rejected and punished by that same God, because WE see them as broken, and imperfect in some way?

Our sister, Wisdom, speaking through our brother, Jesus, had much to say about the human wisdom that we often call upon to guide us.  In response,

Jesus offered divine wisdom, which looks very different from our own.

“Love your neighbor, and your enemy, as yourself.”

“Do unto others, as you would have done to you.”

“Whatever you do for the least among you, you do also for me.”

We are relational beings. Created in the image of God.

Through our brother Christ and our sister Spirit,

God teaches us what it means to live in relationship.ZS

If we can just get ourselves out of the way,

our fears – our biases – our misunderstandings -

there is much wisdom to be had in the sacred Word

and words that we hold dear.

There is much wisdom to be had in the examples that Jesus set for us in his time, and the movement of the Spirit that is still whirling around us in our time.

Our sister Wisdom is constantly pushing us, pulling us,

in some cases dragging us –

towards the life of full relationship that we were created to have –

and long to have – with others, with God, with Creation…

even as we resist it, over and over again,

because we fear what we will lose,

rather than anticipate all that we have to gain.

When Wisdom calls, are we listening?

To the voice of our divine Father and Mother,

Brother and Sister,

who together as one God,

delights in this created world and the human beings contained within it,

and who continually calls us back into relationship.

And reminds us that God does not create alone.

Wisdom and Word were with God at the beginning.

Creation occurs in community.

Thanks be to God, and Amen.

Sermon: Unleash the Spirit

The Rev. Maureen R. Frescott

Congregational Church of Amherst, UCC

June 9, 2019 – Pentecost Sunday – Confirmation

Acts 2:1-21

“Unleash the Spirit”

What does it mean to be “spirited”?

“Spirited” is a term we often apply to someone who tends to have boundless energy, passionate views, or a propensity to act out in unexpected ways.

Children especially are said to be spirited when they express themselves vivaciously or strongly at a very young age, or when try as we may we can’t seem to keep them within the confines of what we expect them to be.

A few weeks ago, we hosted six groups of 3^rd graders from the local elementary school as they embarked on their annual Amherst Village History Tour.

The kids visited the town hall and the Wigwam museum, and then each class spent a half hour here – learning about the history of our church.

They saw pictures of this meetinghouse when it was located across the street on the town green and had fun guessing how it was actually moved from there to here (Hint – it didn’t involve 1,000 men picking it up carrying it).

They heard all about our historic Johnson Tracker Organ –

and had a chance to go behind the screen and walk though the narrow passage way to see the 1200+ organ pipes and the interconnected inner workings that fill the room,  when they came out the other side,

one little girl said,  “That was a fun ride, can we go on it again!

And after going up to the balcony and taking a peek up to the steeple,

a lucky few were given an opportunity to ring the church bell -

where they quickly learned if you forget to let go of the rope,

you really will go on a ride - right up to the ceiling.

They asked some pretty insightful questions as well…

One boy in particular spent a good amount of time just staring at the cross in the chancel looking very perplexed and concerned.

Then he very hesitantly raised his hand, and said,

“Jesus is missing from the cross….where did he go??”

Now admittedly, the kids did get a bit overly rambunctious at times.

Quite a few of them had never been in our church before, or any church – so it was natural that they were excited to see and touch and ask questions about the new things they were experiencing – often in a very spirited way.

Their very wise and patient teachers – God bless them - must have felt like some were a bit more spirited in their behavior than they should have been -because a few days after the History Tour I received a handful of typewritten letters signed by the children:

Dear Congregational Church,

    I’m a third grader at the elementary school. I am very sorry for misbehaving at the church.

Dear Church Guide,

   I’m sorry for switching seats in the middle of the presentation and having a loud voice level. This will never happen again and I don’t know why I did it.

Dear Town Church,

   I am sorry for my disrespectful behavior. I never should have been silly and I’m very sorry for this. I regret even doing this and this was wrong.

(I’ve left off the children’s names to protect the innocent – or the guilty in this case)

I fully understand the lesson the teachers were hoping to impart upon the children who were a bit more spirited than they should have been –

to help them learn to be more respectful of the time and space and attention of others, and to learn to say “I’m sorry” and ask for forgiveness when they’ve misbehaved.

But I also can’t help but wonder if we could learn something from these children in return…

and perhaps be a bit more spirited ourselves when we encounter something new or exciting or sacred.

How many of us walk in the door to this sanctuary – or any sanctuary – and run down the aisle while looking up and around and shouting, “Wow!”

How many of us, when asked if we’d like to ring the church bell would jump out of our seat and raise our hands high and yell, “Oooo, pick me, pick me!”

How many of us look at the empty cross and notice that Jesus is gone  –

and are not afraid to ask a deep theological question like, “Where did he go?”

On the Day of Pentecost, there were quite a few of Jesus’ followers who couldn’t help but look at the cross and at the sky above and wonder aloud, “Where did he go?”

Even after hearing about the empty tomb, and seeing the resurrected Jesus themselves - on the road to Emmaus, on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, in the upper room, where Thomas reached out and touched his beloved teacher, pressing his hand into his flesh.

Even after witnessing Jesus rising into the heavens, as he returned to God,

Still, they looked up and wondered, “Where did he go?”

And as they sat together on the Day of Pentecost –

going through the ritual of gathering their first fruits and preparing themselves for the festival as they had many times before –

had they given up hope that this Spirit that Jesus had promised to send would ever arrive –

were they wondering, after all they had seen, heard, and experienced,

if anything had truly changed, after all?  

We tell the Christian story of Pentecost, every year.

We celebrate it as the day the Spirit that Jesus promised to send in his place had finally arrived.

Yet still we struggle to define and comprehend what this Spirit is to us.

Which is understandable - our own Christian scriptures can’t even agree on what role the Holy Spirit plays in our world.

The Gospel of John names the Spirit as the Advocate - the continuing and comforting presence of Jesus, and the source of peace within us.

For Paul, the Spirit is that which unites us and makes us into the body of Christ, and gives each one of us particular spiritual gifts for the benefit of the community.

For Luke, the author of the Book of Acts, “the Spirit is the power of God,

the mighty burning wind that blows the church into new and unexpected places of ministry.”

Together we knit together this image of Spirit as unifier and divider,  comforter and agitator, sustainer and expander.

A Holy Presence that gathers us in to heal us and soothe us and nurture us, while at the same time, stirs us out of our settled and set ways

pushes and pulls us outside our comfort zones,

and unleashes us on the world to push and pull it along with us.

On the Day of Pentecost, the believers who called themselves followers of the Way of Jesus were brought together as one –

hearing one voice speaking in their own tongue –

speaking to them about the power of God –

the power of God’s unconditional grace and love –

and the power this grace and love had to overcome the evils of inequity and injustice in our world.

With the unleashing of the Spirit, the followers of the way of Jesus felt compelled to bring this message of hope to those who desperately needed to hear it.

But Pentecost was not a one-day event –

where suddenly the body of Christ was birthed into being,

with clear boundaries to confine and contain it.

Pentecost is an every day event –

And it continues to happen every day, to this very day.

Every day the Spirit moves in our world –

taking up residence in our hearts and minds –

turning us into spirited beings who resist being contained in conventional and confining boxes that restrict our ability to be the children of God we’re meant to be.

The boxes that tell us that raising our voices and asking discomforting questions in sacred spaces is something we should seek forgiveness for.

The boxes that tell us that responding in a spirited way when we encounter inequity and injustice is also a frowned upon offense.  

The boxes that are meant to keep us as refined and reticent and respectful people who resist making waves and rocking boats

by challenging one another - to consider another perspective,

to listen to a story that is different from our own,

to ask ourselves could I be seeing and speaking and acting in a way that is hurtful to others because I don’t yet understand the difference between how I experience the world and how another experiences the world –

because of their gender, their color, their religion, their culture,

because of their disability, their age, their economic status,

because of their trauma, their illness, their addiction,

and a multitude of other identities and experiences that make our stories our own.

Our Pentecost moments come when we’re able to hear the language of another – the story of another – and understand it as if it were our own.

Our Pentecost moments come when someone hears our story and responds not with resistance and confusion, but with comfort and compassion.

We become the church in the world when we see it as our calling to become a vessel for the power of God’s healing love – to carry it to those who need it – and to recognize that we need it for ourselves as well.

We could all stand to be a bit more spirited in our lives.

To ask ourselves how we might create and experience Pentecost on this day.

And if you find yourself resisting this idea that you need to unleash the Spirit within you and be a little less confined and controlled in the world…

I leave you with this blessing and charge

from fellow UCC pastor, Mark Suriano:

"On Pentecost, may you find your heart singing with the spirit of God,

your ears humming with the voice of the Spirit speaking in a language that reaches deep into your soul so that the shackles that have hardened around you may be broken, and God's voice and language set free.

And when the day is done,

may all the world know the love of God

because of you!"

Thanks be to God, and Amen.