Today is Pentecost, the 50th day of Easter, sometimes known as the birthday of the church. It is the day when we celebrate the gift of the Resurrection. On this day, we were given The Holy Spirit, sent by God in the name of Jesus, to be the advocate to teach us everything, and to remind us of all Jesus has said and taught to his disciples.
It’s also the day of the redemption for The Tower of Babel – the ancient story told to explain the many different languages of humankind. We are told that the tower was built by Nimrod, son of Kush, the oldest son of Ham and the grandson of Noah, the same man who built the ark and was part of the faithful remnant to re-establish the earth after the devastating flood.
Nimrod built the tower as a
refuge should God flood the earth again. Problem is, God promised never to
destroy the earth ever again. God even put a rainbow in the sky as a sign of God’s
covenant with us. Apparently, Nimrod forgot that promise. God didn’t.
Indeed, when God came to visit earth and saw what they had done, well, God got
a little annoyed. God said, well, you know, they all have one language and
there’s no telling what they’ll be able to do in the future. According to the
story, God said, "Come, let us go down, and confuse their language there,
so that they will not understand one another's speech."
Now, that all got redeemed on the Day of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit came down and even though everyone was speaking in their own language, everyone understood. There was unity. And, there was peace. Because there was trust in God.
Well, almost everyone trusted in God. The scene from ACTS tells us that some sneered and said, "They are filled with new wine." Still the Holy Spirit came down. Because, you know, God works through amazement and wonder but God can also work through skepticism and disbelief.
You know, it’s been a tough
couple of weeks. My heart has been especially heavy. I know many of you are
also feeling helpless and hopeless as gun violence rips through the very fabric
of this nation again and again. I think it’s time for a story, don’t you? Right?
Of course, right. This is a story about how the Spirit works though different
languages and customs to provide us with the experiences and lessons we need to
know and learn to live together in unity and peace.
It was 1986. I was a newly ordained priest, a Chaplain at the University of
Lowell in MA. It was also the first five years of what was to become the AIDS
pandemic. I was part of an Ecumenical AIDS Task Force, teaming up with a Jesuit
priest to provide education to churches in the area.
It was in that capacity that I first met Fr. Koumranian, the pastor at the
Armenian Orthodox Church in Lowell. For
some reason unknown to me, Fr. Koumranian took a liking to me – or, was
intrigued by a “woman priest” – and decided that I should learn the “real”
liturgy of the church. So, he took me
under his wing in one of the most delightful mentor relationship I have ever
known.
He was called “Father” so I, of course, became known as “Mother”. He would call
me and, in his heavy Armenian accent, begin, “Mother? Dees is Father. We are
having baptism at church. It would be good for you to learn Divine Liturgy. It
would be good for my people to see woman priest. You come.” (You didn’t know I
could speak Armenian, did you? Step aside, Meryl Streep.)
Mind you, that wasn’t so much an invitation as an expectation. I was thrilled.
I went. Every time. One evening, he
called. “Mother? Dees is Father. Der is funeral Wednesday. It would be good for
you to learn Divine Liturgy. It would be good for my people to see woman
priest. You come.”
Nothing was so important that couldn’t be rearranged so that I could be there. There
was smoke. There were bells. There was chanting. I admit that I loved it all in
that beautiful mosaic tile sanctuary.
When it came time for the eulogy, I looked around the church and saw that it
was filled with lots of old Armenian men and women, all dressed in black. I
thought sure the eulogy would be spoken in Armenian and I could meditate
quietly while he preached. To my surprise, Fr. Koumranian walked into the
aisle, near the casket as he began the euology.
“Der are people in dees world,” he said, “who are always making you happy. You
see dem walking on de street and your heart leaps for joy, for dey are always making
you so happy.”
He put his hand reverently on the casket and said solemnly, “Dees . . . is not
one of dos people.”
I was, in a word, stunned. I shut my eyes tight. All I could think was, “Don’t
let my face show what I’m thinking.” Which was, “What in the heck is he doing?”
When I opened my eyes, I could see the front row of women, including the man’s
widow. They were all nodding their heads in agreement.
Fr. Koumranian continued, “But, isn’t God – our own God – so wonderful, dat now
– even now – even one such as dees is resting eternally in de arms of Jesus?
Because, you know, eets true (Wait for it. Ready?): People is people. And, God
is God.”
And then he said, “Ah-min,” and sat down.
One of these days I'm going to learn to just say what I have to say, say, "Amen!", shut up and sit down. (Umm . . . but this would not be one of those days.)
Isn’t that wonderful? ‘People is people and God is God’.
That pretty much sums up just about everything Jesus ever said. These are seven
words that sum up the message of all four gospels. ‘People is people and God is
God’. That’s really the message of this morning’s gospel.
Because, you see, Fr.
Koumranian is right: People are people. And God, is God.
Here’s the really Good News: No matter how foolish, no matter how unkind or
mean-spirited or even despicable our behavior, God is always ready to forgive. We
may not be able to forgive, but what we know of God in Christ Jesus is love and
forgiveness, reconciliation and hope.
That is the life we were baptized into. The life of Jesus is a life of love,
forgiveness, reconciliation and hope. And, here’s the secret to the miracle of
Life: The more of yourself you give away, the more of yourself you will have
and the more joy you will know.
Not just superficial happiness. Joy. Deep, inexplicable joy – even when your heart is heavy and breaking with sadness. I don’t know how that works. I only know it to be true.
Here’s what else I know to be true: We are here on this fragile earth, our island home, just a very short time. If we’re lucky, some of us will live a little less than 100 years. Even though that’s a great, long life, it’s a little, tiny blip in the history of time. I also know that each one of us is hardwired to be compassionate. It’s in our DNA. We were created for unity – to be one in the Spirit – even as we were uniquely and wondrously made.
When we act out of our compassion, when we help others in their time of need, even if that is at personal cost or sacrifice, we are living into and out of our baptismal vows. And that, my friends, is the source of joy and peace and hope.
Part of the reason Deacon Pete is here with us is to do what Deacons do: They are to bring the needs of the world to the church and the goodness of the church back out into the world. They are to edify and empower the laity – the priesthood of all believers – to find the compassion that is in each of our hearts and be in service to others. Deacons often do that by stirring things up, challenging the status quo. Deacon Pete has already shown us he can do that.
There is something in this world that only you can do. This is the reason you
were put on this earth. This is the reason, ultimately, for your baptism – so
you can do something wonderful in this world for others in the name of Jesus.
Deacon Pete and I are both here to help you find that out about yourself and to
do that very thing you were called to do.
And, even if you fall short – even if you miss the mark – when it is time for
your time on this earth to end, by the power of the Spirit, you are promised to
rest eternally in the arms of God.
Why? How does that happen? Honest?
I’m not exactly certain. I only know the revelation of truth I learned from a
man whose culture and language and style of worship were very different from
mine and yet he gave to me a message of the timeless truth the disciples
learned at Pentecost:
People are people
and God is God. Amen.
1 comment:
i thank you for sharing with us your beauty.
Deacon Bob
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