St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Wesley Chapel, FL
Preacher: The Rev. Adrienne R. Hymes, Vicar
Pentecost Sunday/Year B
Romans 8:22-27; John 15:26-27, 16:4b-15
May 23, 2021
What is Pentecost Sunday without the awe and amazement in the second chapter of the Acts of the Apostles’? On the day of Pentecost the disciples were all together gathered in one place, when suddenly they were in the presence of a violent wind that filled the whole house, and tongues as of fire rested on each of them. Then the Holy Spirit filled the human beings, who were sitting in that house, and gave them all the ability to speak in other languages.
Now, for context, the apostles were amongst devout Jews who were living in Jerusalem, many from multiple nations, and who spoke the languages of those nations. This crowd heard, and witnessed, this holy commotion of the Spirit’s indwelling in the disciples. And, witnessing this supernatural happening, they were amazed, confused and assumed that the disciples must have been drunk.
Truly, what is Pentecost Sunday without hearing about the freedom and power of the Holy Spirit’s movement amongst mere mortals? Mere mortals, I would suggest, who needed someone to point to the truth of what they were not only witnessing, but experiencing. That someone would be Peter. It was Peter who refuted claims that the disciples were simply drunk, and essentially said, “Hey, that is not true. You know the scriptures. Remember that God’s prophet Joel, prophesied about this very experience that we’re in the midst of right now.”
God declared that in the last days, he would “Pour out his Spirit upon all flesh…and they shall prophesy” (Joel 2:28-32). Peter pointed to the truth that was already in scripture—a scripture passage of which any devout Jew would have been aware. Up to this point, God’s promise of his Spirit, as prophesied by Joel, was something that God’s people could not yet see, but had certainly hoped for. What the apostles experienced, and what the gathered Jews witnessed, on the day of Pentecost was the manifestation of hope.
In our gospel passage in John, Jesus was seeding his disciples with the anticipation of the Advocate’s coming, the one whom he would send to them from the Father. And, when the Spirit came, the disciples could expect that his very nature would contrast the world’s wrong beliefs about sin, righteousness and judgment.
The disciples were to expect the Spirit to speak truth; to guide them into all truth; and to declare the truth of the eternal things to come. It was not a matter of if the Spirit of truth was coming, but when. As the disciples listened to Jesus, they could not have perceived of this, yet unseen, hoped-for Advocate of whom Jesus spoke.
As Paul said in our epistle to the Romans today, “Hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” (Rom 8:24-25). Who hopes for what is seen? If you can see it, it is not hope. Jesus’ disciples in John’s gospel were to hope for the coming of the Advocate, after Jesus’ death, and they were to wait for him with unwavering patience.
As Easter people, baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we live in the hope of the risen Christ. We live in the hope that through our belief in the only Son of God, we have life eternal with the Father now and beyond this temporal existence.
We cannot see Jesus, but we certainly look for, and expect to see glimpses of Christ’s light in this world, and in the faces of our neighbors, and each other. We cannot see Jesus, but we certainly experience his real presence in Holy Communion in the Eucharistic prayers and in the sacraments of bread and wine. We cannot see our promised eternal life, but we can certainly expect to see glimpses of this hope manifested in our lives lived faithfully in Christ.
Last year on Pentecost Sunday, the pandemic was raging—globally terrorizing humankind with sickness and the stench of death. The doors to many houses of worship were closed, and the 50 days of Easter—a celebratory season—felt like we were still stuck in the dark, wilderness of Lent. The church doors were closed, but the work of the church never stopped. Thanks to the courage of our organist, two altar servers and one video operator, this time last year, I was here preaching, with a heavy heart, to an empty sanctuary. But we showed up. We showed up because we believed, that God’s powerful spirit of healing and restoration was already at work in the world. We showed up, week by week, hoping that at the time of God’s choosing we would be able to once again gather as a faith community, sitting side-by-side, to worship God—to lift our voices in praise; to pass the peace with the gift of human touch; and to see the smiles of the faces hidden behind masks for far too long. We hoped for God’s restoration—what we could not yet see—and we waited for it with patience.
One year later, on Pentecost Sunday, God has given us glimpses of this manifestation of hope. The long-awaited vaccine is a reality, and is being administered. We are still masking and safe distancing; and we’re still not singing as a congregation or touching hands with the passing of the peace. We’re not there yet, but we believe by faith that we will be soon. As we celebrate the birthday of the Church, let us celebrate the obvious—the manifestation of our hope in Christ by our very presence in this sanctuary. This gathered body of Christ in worship, was something that was simply not possible last year.
Do You know what else was not possible last year? Baptisms! The baptisms of Nair, Zoe and McKellan, in which this congregation will participate, and witness, are manifestations of hope. When we are gathered together, as the disciples were on that day of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit comes amongst us and moves in us and through us, as we participate as the body of Christ in the ongoing work of the Spirit. Nair, Zoe and McKellan, you are the manifestation of hope. And by the joining of your souls by water and the Holy Spirit, into the body of Christ, your very lives will point to the truth of Christ’s light in this world.
May we all trust the Spirit to help us in our weakness, and to intercede on our behalf, according to God’s will, with sighs too deep for words (Rom 8:26-27). And, let us all be on the lookout for, and expect glimpses of, God’s divine manifestations of hope, and waiting for them with patience, prayer and rejoicing, “Come Holy Spirit, Come!” Amen.
