Pentecost: The Next Supper, May 27, 2012

PENTECOST: THE NEXT SUPPER

Acts 2:1-18

St. Andrew’s-Wesley United Church

Rev. Gary Paterson

May 27, 2012

Some of you might remember how, a few weeks ago, I described my visit to the Upper Room in Jerusalem, where Jesus celebrated his last supper with his disciples, breaking the bread, and filling the cup… this is my body, my blood; take, eat; do this in remembrance of me.  I went there with such expectation, hoping for a deep spiritual experience; but when I walked into a plain, ordinary room, bland, unremarkable; where the smell of cat droppings hung heavy in the afternoon air; well, I was sorely disappointed.   And then, when the room was invaded by a busload of tourists, all chattering away and a-snapping their cameras – well, I fled.  However, remember I described how just minutes later that crowd of tacky tourists burst into song….

                        We are standing on holy ground.

                        And I know that there are angels all around;

                        Let us praise God, forever  now,

                        We are standing in God’s presence on holy ground.

And suddenly the room was transformed, filled with harmony and beauty, changed by the devotion and prayer of pilgrims who became conduits of grace, who in their singing channeled the Holy Spirit into space and time, into that Upper Room… and truly, it was holy ground.

            Which, in truth, is not all that surprising an experience.  Because you see, I had forgotten that the upper room where Jesus said goodbye to his disciples was also, according to tradition, the place where they gathered post-Easter, where they received the gift of the Holy Spirit.  The Upper Room is Pentecost ground zero.

            Which makes some sense, when you think about it.   Of course the disciples were going to go back to the last place where they had shared a last meal with the man they had so deeply loved, the last place they had felt safe, before all hell had broken loose;  where memory was thick and comforting; where they had felt strengthened by the deep presence of Jesus.  But clearly, the linking of these two events, the Last Supper and Pentecost, is a theological statement as well… here are two central though different ways of encountering Jesus: in communion, in the bread and the cup; and then, in the coming of the Holy Spirit; so why not have link them by establishing a shared location? 

            Some years ago I came across a painting by Bill Dixon… an artist from Sooke, a United Church minister someone told me, although I don’t know the man.  I love his sense of colour and movement… see… here’s the painting.  (And this is just one more reason why you shouldn’t be afraid of sitting at the front of the church; oh, I know it’s easier to slip out from the back pew if things get boring, but hey, from the first pew you’d actually be able to see this painting in real time instead of relying on checking out the website later on.)  What kept me staring was the title… he called it “The Next Supper”!  The Next Supper?  Never heard of that… the Last Supper, sure; and I’ve even preached on the First Breakfast, when the resurrected Jesus appeared to his disciples on the shore of the Sea of Galilee and invited them to join him round the campfire for a meal of fish and bread.  But the Next Supper?  Well, if you look carefully at this painting, you can see the table, the cup, the bread… and look, there’s Jesus at the very centre, once again the host.  But this time the scene is alive with light; the flames of the Spirit are curving round, filling the disciples with yellow and gold energy, sending them dancing in delight and even ecstasy, as if… surprise, surprise… as if they were at a Pentecostal worship service.  The next supper  -- the resurrected Jesus present once again, from above, in their midst, in their very core, filling them to overflowing with life and joy. 

Pentecost… the coming of the Holy Spirit is nothing less than the unleashing of the resurrected Christ into the world.  I’ve often wondered why Jesus didn’t stick around for longer, why he disappeared after forty days.  Surely we could have benefitted from several more appearances; further instruction; a bit more proof, evidence and encouragement.  But with Pentecost, something quite extraordinary happens… resurrection energy suddenly becomes available in a completely new way. 

Did you ever notice how the Easter appearances always seem to happen one-on-one… Jesus and Mary; Jesus and the beloved disciple; Jesus and Thomas; Jesus and Peter; Jesus and the two disciples on the road to Emmaus.  But now… we’re talking  about Jesus coming to 120 disciples… 120 you say?  Like, where did they come from?  Sure, there were the twelve… well, eleven with Judas gone… though he was replaced with Matthias… and there were a handful of women… but how did we get so quickly up to a three digit figure? 

Well, it’s clear that we’re starting to talk about a movement… and the intimacy of the Upper Room and the Last Supper now moves to the wild exuberance of the Upper Room and the Next Supper, of Pentecost.  What’s happening here is a fusion of symbols: the most personal of images for God -- Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh, in whom God was pleased to dwell -- is now joined with the most impersonal of images – the energy symbols of fire and wind.  If Luke had been writing in modern scientific times, he might have described Pentecost as the “big bang” of the Spirit, an explosion of Being that sent waves of energy out to every soul in the world.  Just as the waves of energy from the sun enliven every green leaf around the globe, sparking chlorophyll cells into action, so does the Christ fire send waves of spirit love, sparking hearts into new life.  Pentecost is a declaration of the possibility of a Baptism in the Holy Spirit; water now becomes wind, becomes fire, and transcends the bodily limits of Jesus of Nazareth, free now to blow throughout the world.

God as energy…. but not impersonal, as if we were talking about “the Force” from Star Wars; nor simply the indifferent energy of the universe, where, as the poet Dylan Thomas says, “the force that through the green fuse drives the flower, drives my red blood.”  No, the power of Pentecost comes from this deliberate linking of the energy with Jesus.  It is more than impersonal fire and wind; it carries the imprint of Jesus, wears a Jesus face.  You want to know what this Spirit energy is truly like, then you turn to the Jesus story -- the teachings, healings, prophetic challenge, the crucifixion and resurrection -- and you discover that the Holy Spirit of Pentecost is the Spirit of Love. 

And… this is important… the Spirit comes to us with purpose -- to change us, to transform us.  It is not an end in itself, as if having a spiritual high was what our lives were all about.  No, we are caught up by the fire and energy, so filled with this spirit power, that we cannot help but release this energy into the world.  We become witnesses… unable to stop ourselves from talking about our experience of such grace, such love, knowing that it is the deepest truth in the universe, and that we are called to share this good news.  Because it is good news… not the bad news of “you’d better watch out; you’d better do it our way; otherwise you’re going to hell”… no, what we are filled with is the good news of God’s overwhelming love that comes sweeping over us, the love that can be seen at the heart of  Jesus Christ. 

Indeed, we are so filled with Spirit that it’s not something we can just talk about; no, we’re sent out, out of the Upper Room, into the world, to act -- to bring healing and mending wherever we find ourselves.  You’ve only to watch what happens in the Book of Acts to get a sense of this… there’s Peter -- immediately after being filled with Spirit, he launches into a grand sermon, preaching his head off, and some 3000 new people are also now filled with the Spirit..  Then, in the very next chapter, there’s Peter healing a man who could not walk… well, talk about symbolism: whatever prevents people from standing strong, from moving ahead, from running and leaping, well, that’s where we need to do our work, loving and caring for everyone who crosses our paths.

Then watch what happens -- these spirit-filled people are brought together into a new community that seeks to include everyone; as Peter says, this Spirit comes to the old and the young, to women and to women, to slave and to free.  It’s a community that seeks to include, that refuses to accept all the divisions of class, race, gender, sexual orientation, ethnicity, language; the divisions that create distrust and enmity, that keep us divided and apart from each other.  This is Kingdom talk, the Kingdom of God -- the new community of peace and equality, where love and justice are intertwined. 

Let me tell you, I’m hungry for that Spirit… I want Pentecost in my heart, in the heart of this congregation, in the United Church.  I want to be Pentecostal… no, I don’t mean speaking in tongues, slain in the spirit, rolling on the carpet; not even waving my arms (though sometimes I think we could use a bit of that in our tradition.)  No, I am yearning for a spiritual revival, so that I might live again; because a person without Spirit is dying; just getting up each day and moving around.  And likewise, a church without Spirit is dying.  Maybe it’s because of this Moderator nomination… it has been on my mind as you might guess… but I worry for our United Church.   We all know the statistics, the bad news; I sometimes feel we have lost touch with the Spirit.  Maybe lost sight of our Methodist roots, which seemed a bit more open to the movement of the Spirit than the Presbyterian tradition… or at least the Scottish version that I was raised with.  That’s probably not fair, although I suspect my Presbyterian forbearers would be turning in their graves to hear me talk about Pentecostal hungers.   And yet, I remember John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, who talked about that moment when his heart was “strangely warmed” – that’s what I am hungry for.  I read accounts of revival meetings… and no, I don’t want mindless emotionality, but I do yearn for us as a community to  encounter the resurrected Christ who comes as wind and fire, who might send us dancing into the world, transformed into channels of God’s love and energy.

So how to get there; perhaps that’s the real question.  How do we recognize the Upper Rooms in our lives, where the Next Supper will take place?  Surely that’s the question facing any congregation, facing us, facing each one of us, facing you.  At one level it seems so simple -- just ask, says the Bible.  “Seek and you shall find, ask and it shall be given to you, knock and the door will be opened.” “Come Holy Spirit, come.”  -- is that all we have to say?   Ask quietly, perhaps…. “Veni Sancte Spiritus;” come tonight to the Taize service, here; in the shadows of evening, with candles, and gently sing, over and over, “Veni Sancte Spiritus, veni Sancte Spiritus…”  Or maybe ask loudly, shouting from your heart --  imagine being in Nigeria, where Christians are being killed for their faith;  and in Yoruba you cry out, “Wa wa wa Emimimo.  Wa wa wa Alagbara. Wao wao wao…”  Or maybe this tune that comes to us from the Caribbean, “O let the power fall on me, my God, let the power fall on me; O let the power of the spirit fall on me, let the power fall on me.”  I had actually wondered about this as one of our hymns this morning’s worship, dreaming of the entire congregation leaping to its feet in exuberance, clapping and stomping.  But Darryl reminded me that most likely we would only be able to handle a muted clap, with the occasional sway of the head, and perhaps it would be a song better suited for a different setting.  And he’s right…. but still, “O let the power of the Spirit fall on me!” sure has a good ring to it.  But perhaps we might sing a gentler version:

                        Breathe on me breath of God,

                        Fill me with life anew,

                        That I may love what thou dost love

                        And do what thou wouldst do. 

I don’t think it matters what song you sing; just ask…and mean it; let the music open you up, and yearn for the Spirit to come, and bring a Pentecostal moment.

Which I believe most of us have actually had, even though we may not have called it that.  Because the Spirit never stops moving; never has.   So, for example….  the other day I was walking through the Mary and Ted Grieg Rhododendron Garden, (just east of the tennis courts in Stanley Park, west of Lost Lagoon) -- and if you remember nothing else from this sermon, do remember to go and spend time in this garden … immediately!! This is the week that the azaleas are in full and glorious bloom.  And when you sit on a bench in the middle of this garden, you will feel that the Holy Spirit is exploding all around you in wild colours of bright yellow, fluorescent pink, burnt orange, amber, red, magenta… burning bushes everywhere you look; there is no question that you are standing on holy ground, and that a feast has been set before you.  Usually when I meet other people in this garden we don’t connect; often they are totally focused on their morning run, determined to look cool and fit; or huffing and a-puffing, desperate to lose a few pounds; or lost in a faraway world of earplugs and iPods and music. But this week, everyone was so caught by wonder that we couldn’t help but grin at each other, and offer greetings like  “Isn’t it extraordinary… amazing… incredible.”   Enough beauty for everyone’s heart to be filled to overflowing; it leaves you so glad to be alive, and wanting to reach out to others and share the good news of such profligate abundance.

Another example … last Friday I spoke to our Seniors’ “Breaking Bread” gathering, showing pictures and telling stories of my time in Jerusalem.  After the session, one of the participants came to me and talked about her time of travelling in Jordan, and of her experience at the Jordan River where Jesus had been baptized.  Despite the fact that the river is narrow, sluggish and muddy… like three day old coffee with curdling cream; and that soldiers on both sides of this border river are slouching around with their guns; and that the reality of tacky tourism is difficult to sidestep… despite all this, she reached down and touched the water… and it happened!  Suddenly she was filled with a sense of overwhelming love … she was beloved; all creation was filled with love.  When she put her finger into the water it was as if she were completing the Spirit circuit, and the memory of Jesus’ baptism joined with her heart and this world, and the Spirit jumped into the present moment, surrounding, embracing and filling her up with love.

Or one last experience… earlier this morning we celebrated the 20^th anniversary of Tim Stevenson’s 20^th ordination – the first openly gay person to be ordained in the United Church.  We talked about his long journey -- his courage, the struggle, the misunderstanding and even bigotry; and the willingness of our church to be open to the work of the Spirit, and to be transformed.  Which happened in 1988!  At a church meeting, no less!  Who would have thought that the Holy Spirit could arrive in the midst of a meeting -- that in itself is extraordinary, no?  (A different way to look at all those committee meetings that are looming up on your calendar – expecting that the Holy Spirit might suddenly drop by creates a very different atmosphere.)  In 1988, the General Council of the United Church gathered in Victoria.  Several months earlier the church had released its latest report on Sexuality, with a recommendation that gay and lesbian persons be fully included in the life of the church, including the right to be considered for ordination.  Well… the church exploded!!  In “normal” years the General Council receives two or three hundred resolutions from the wider church, asking for action to be taken on a whole variety of issues.  That year there were close to three thousand resolutions, and all but two or three hundred of them were vehemently against the church accepting gay and lesbian folk.  Commissioners were sent with explicit instructions from their congregations and prebysteries to defeat this sinful proposal.  In order to deal with all the resolutions and the Report itself, the church brought together a special Sessional Committee that met for a week before the General Council proper began.  The Committee was composed of some two dozen folk from across the country, representing the complete spectrum of opinion; and, in addition, a lesbian and a gay man – that would be Tim.  Well, that committee went to work… hard and painful conversation; and a lot of prayer… and something extraordinary happened.  To everyone’s surprise, this Committee presented to the full court a consensus decision that the recommendations of the Report be accepted.  Well … talk about shock and outrage.  The debate went on for days… again, with a lot of prayer, and worship, and struggle, and oh, such hard conversation.  A lot of tears; and anger; and hurt…. I was there; I know.  And once again… how to explain what happened other than to say that the Holy Spirit was working overtime; because hearts were changed; the community heart was changed; and at the end of the day we voted to affirm that, “in and of itself sexual orientation is not a barrier to full membership in the church, including ordination.” “Amazed and astonished” – that’s how Luke described the reaction of those who witnessed the first Pentecost.  I think the same language could be used to describe what happened at that General Council.  We certainly shocked the wider church… and all of our sister denominations, most of whom continue to struggle with this issue.  I think we shocked ourselves.  As commissioners returned home they barely knew how to explain their actions to angry congregations -- how do you tell folk who weren’t there that a great wind had swept through the meeting; that tongues of fire had hovered over everyone gathered in that auditorium … and everything was changed.  Never underestimate the power of the Holy Spirit; Pentecost keeps on happening. 

I was reading an article (from Edward Hays’ The Pilgrim’s Almanac) about Admiral Sir Francis Beaufort of the British Nay who in 1806 developed a schema for describing the strength of the wind, a system that was adopted and modified for modern times by the US National Weather Service.   It starts with total calm at 0 or less than one mile per hour, then moves to light breeze, from 1-5, on to gentle breeze, to moderate to fresh to strong breeze, 25 to 31 mph.  Me, I rather enjoy a light breeze, and feel completely at home with a moderate breeze… well, truth be told, moderate anything.  But the wind keeps blowing, and the scale goes higher; suddenly we’ve left breezes behind and have moved to moderate gale, 32 to 38 miles per hour, then on to fresh, strong and whole gale, progressing to storm, at 64 to 72 miles per hour, finishing with all out hurricane at 73 miles per hour and higher.   So where does the Holy Spirit Wind fit in… well anywhere perhaps, sometimes gentle or fresh… but sometimes like a gale or a storm… and sometimes right off the scale… well beyond hurricane!!  And even if it begins in a gentle way, well it can pick up speed at any moment – and then maybe it’s too late to run for cover.  Which means that everything gets turned upside down… including the church; including your life!  But still…. when we find ourselves in an upper room, the doors closed tight, fearful, lonely, wondering what comes next; an upper room that seems so ordinary, and reeking of cat, crowded with tourists… well maybe just then we will catch ourselves calling out,  “Come, Holy Spirit, come!”  “Wa wa wa Emimimo!”  “Veni Sancte Spiritus!”  “ O let the power fall on me O God!”  “Breathe on me breath of God!” And the God who loves us enough to take us seriously, will send the wind and fire, and all of a sudden we will find ourselves at the next supper … such a wonderful life-changing feast!