Don't You Tell Me No Proper 15A Calvary, Williamsville

+Poet and theologian Jan Richardson wrote this poem about today’s Gospel:
“Don’t tell me no.
I have seen you
feed thousands,
seen miracles spill
from your hands
like water, like wine,seen you with circles
and circles of crowds
pressed around you
and not one soul
turned away.
Don’t start with me.
I am saying
you can close the door
but I’ll keep knocking.
You can go silent
but I’ll keep shouting.
You can tighten the circle
but I’ll trace a bigger one
around you,
around the life of my child
who will tell you
no one surpasses a mother
for stubbornness.
I am saying
I know what you
can do with crumbs
and I’m claiming mine,
every morsel and scrap
you have up your sleeve.
Unclench your hand,
your heart.
Let the scraps fall
like manna,
like mercy
for the life
of my child,
the life of
the world.
Don’t you tell me no."((Jan Richardson--A Stubborn Blessing)
     This week, Susan Bro, the mother of Heather Heyer (the woman killed in the Nazi march in Charlottesville) said this: make my daughter’s death worthwhile—confront injustice, turn anger into righteous action.” Susan Bro is another in a long line of mothers and mother-figures who when confronted with danger directed at their children, take amazing risks, speak incredible truths and do whatever it takes to make things right. Susan Bro won’t let the death of her daughter be in vain, nor will the Canaanite woman from today’s gospel let some religious and political rules keep her from the feet of the man who can heal her daughter.
     It’s hard to know what Jesus was thinking that day—perhaps he used her intrusion into his ministry as a teaching moment for his followers or, more likely, he was in a stubborn, cranky mood. Either way, the story demonstrates that when it comes to saving what needs saving, being nice and agreeable won’t always win the day, or save the life. Sometimes we need to dig in our heels and do some nudging, some bothering and some hollering.
     The Canaanite woman, the mother of a daughter in desperate need of healing, should not be approaching Jesus and the disciples. She’s an unaccompanied woman and a Canaanite. Canaanites and Jews despised each other then and they still do today…because Canannites are Arab.
     Remember, Jesus has been trying to get some R and R for awhile now. First he went up to the mountain to pray, only to be confronted with thousands of hungry followers, then he took off across the lake only to be harassed by a Peter who was so quick to doubt and to debate (and sink). So one can imagine that, travelling into foreign territory, he’s hoping for a little peace--after all no non-Jew would dare pay him any heed, for he wasn’t “their messiah.” Of course, that doesn’t work and suddenly this woman appears, demanding to be heard and seen. What follows is one of the most uncomfortable and horrifying exchanges in the Gospels when Jesus harshly dismisses her, saying:
“It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
Has Jesus lost his mind? Is this the same man who teaches that we must love everyone, no exceptions?
Yes it is.
Jesus is saying, in language not unusual for his culture, that he was the messiah for the Jews and that his work was for those lost sheep, not any other.
But, my friends, Jesus is wrong.
This desperate and determined mother helps Jesus see the full scope of his mission, she teaches the      Teacher, leaving the ego of the human Jesus tattered and the surety of the divine Jesus, shaken.
The mother teaches and the Messiah, learns.
     Even after being horribly insulted by Jesus, this classic outcast, this mother who will not be denied, forges ahead. She accepts where Jesus is at—that he has come for the Jewish people and no one else—and challenges him with the fact that dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table and that all she wants—this unclean, unaccompanied, socially unacceptable person—are the crumbs of his grace. She has such faith in who Jesus is, and such desperation to help her child, that she’s willing to accept the left-overs, the trash, if it will save her daughter.
    Rage must have churned within her. Fury, fear and terror all pulsating through her veins…but she didn’t give in, she didn’t lash out, she didn’t retreat, she didn’t give up. Her daughter was extremely ill and, regardless of the risk, she had to do something!
Just like Susan Bro some 2K years later, the Canaanite woman wouldn’t be denied…not because she was full of hubris, but because she was full of love. Love for her daughter. Mothers, and mother figures across the ages, have tempered their fury, bridled their rage, and swallowed their pride to protect, support, and care for their family.  They’ve set aside their own desires, their own dignity, in order to provide for those whom they love without reason, those whom they love beyond all measure, those for whom they will lay down their very life…not because they’re super-human or heroes, but because they are, plain and simple: mothers.
     The lesson of The Triumphant Canaanite Women and the humbled Jesus is this: No matter how much we say no, no matter how far we go to reject, destroy and ignore it, God’s love will not be denied, because God’s love, like the love of every devoted parent we know, knows no limit, respects no prejudice, and will never ever stop. The love God has for us is fierce. It is our job to let this love wash over us as we stand up against , like Heather Heyer’s mother and like the Canaanite mother, all prejudice, all hate, all intolerance and all darkness. And for that we say, Amen.

August 13, 2017 Proper 14. Charlottesville

So I had a sermon written for today. It was quirky and quick. But then our nation exploded in a frightening display of hate-filled domestic terrorism. Swastikas. Confederate flags. A car used as a weapon for one reason and one reason only: fear of the other, intolerance of the other, hate of the other. And these events made preaching anything other than our God-given, Jesus-commanded, Holy Spirit-fueled responsibility to love--TO LOVE---our Lord our God with all our heart, mind and soul and to love one another as we ourselves are loved, impossible.
And so… as best as I can remember… this is what I told the people gathered at Trinity Church, Lancaster, 8 am and 10 am:

Peter really wanted to be the A student. He wanted to be the #1 disciple, he wanted to be Jesus’ go to guy. He wanted to be as much like Jesus as Jesus was. But, when push came to shove, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t. He didn’t.
It was: too risky
  too terrifying
           too difficult
And so he sank like a stone, he proclaimed, “I do not know the man.” He failed.
And still Jesus built the church upon Peter’s cornerstone. Why? Because Jesus knew that Peter wasn’t a jerk, or a liar, or a pain in the…well maybe he was a pain, but….Jesus built his church upon Peter because Jesus knew that Peter was, simply, human. That the humanity Jesus was counting on to be his eyes and ears, his hands and feet, his voice, was/is incredibly flawed and yet, Jesus left it all to Peter, He left it all to us.
We are to take the lessons Jesus had taught us, and live it. LIVE IT in all that we do, even though being a follower of Jesus, being a Christian, being someone who walks the Way with Christ requires that we take risks, endure fear, and work through difficult things.
 It is uncomfortable. We will lose friends, family members, fellow church-members.
It can be incredibly lonely to be a Christian—to really be a Christian. But, at this time in our world as followers of Jesus we must respond to the vitriol of bigots, the horror of the swastika, the ignorance of the confederate flag with the one tool-- the only tool--we have at our disposable: Love.
Hate can be stopped by love.
Hate will be stopped by love but, hear me clearly, this isn’t the love of Hallmark cards or Silly Love Songs, this love is the source of all love, this love is the be all and end all of  love. It is L-O-V-E.
It’s risky—Jesus died for it, Ghandi died for it, Martin died for it. We may die for it.
It’s scary—loving everyone, everywhere, no exceptions can be frightening. Sometimes people are so different from us, sometimes their very presence in our world makes us uncomfortable , uneasy and on edge that standing up for them, welcoming them,  realizing that they are us—can be really, really hard.
It’s difficult---speaking up when someone is telling a racist joke, standing up when you see another human being belittled, ostracized, hated, letting all who are around you that Hate has No Home Here—this is all really difficult, uncomfortable and scary.
But as long as stand as one to proclaim our faith through our creeds, as long as we join hands around this altar, as long as we share this Holy Meal with each other, as long as we call ourselves Christians, we must.
By virtue of our baptism we must---MUST—do this.
At all times.
In all places.
No matter what.
Do what you have to do to garner the courage to do this--
Pray for the strength, then get off your knees, go through these doors and make your loving, tolerant, accepting self be seen, heard and noticed.
For it is only through us---you and me---that Hate will be overwhelmed, over-matched and obliterated.
We can’t wait for a new president or a new congress or a new culture.
We can’t wait for someone stronger, or braver, or more faithful to do it.
We can’t wait for the madness to end.
We need to end the madness.
We can’t wait.
Love must be unleashed—by all of us, through all of us.
Always and Forever.
May God have mercy on the hate-mongers and may God’s Love embolden us, encourage us, propel us into doing what must be done. Right here. And right now.
Amen.

In Thin Places, God’s Glory can no longer be contained. Aug 6, 2017 Trinity Hamburg

So, this is a rework of the Transfiguration sermon I gave on Last Epiphany,2017. Before getting into the sermon text, I explained why we commemorated the Transfiguration on two Sundays this year. 
Then I proceeded to use the below as bullet point notes for mu sermon. Perhaps because I was bored giving this sermon for a second time. Perhaps because the Spirit moved me. But regardless, here is the manuscript.
+Have you ever been transfigured-- so effected by an experience that your actual appearance—how you look, how you carry yourself, changes? It can be negative—when something horrible happens and the wind is taken out of your sails--or positive-- you’re in love, you’ve gotten your life back on track after some rough spots.
Something about how you appear, how you present yourself to the world changes.
But sometimes the causes of these transformations, these transfigurations aren’t as clear-- they’re more mysterious.
            Mary Oliver describes such experiences in her poem, Mysteries, Yes:
“Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to be understood”----or even explained. These mysteries are experiential and describing them, let alone understanding them, is impossible ----but the effect? That’s life-changing.
        In Celtic spirituality these are known as Thin Places.
Thin Places are those moments when we feel especially close to the Divine. When, all at once. one feels incredibly small and yet larger than life; one with God, one with all of Creation.
Maybe it occurs when witnessing a gorgeous sunset, or the birth of a child.
Or perhaps in the midst of an ordinary day—driving the car, washing the dishes, cooking dinner. Thin Places are available to all of us at any time and in any place.
Thin places occur when we let the guard of our humanity down long enough for the fullness of the divine to breakthrough.
I think that the Transfiguration was a Thin Place for James, John and Peter. I also think it was a mystery too marvelous for words.
 No one knows exactly what happened on top of that mountain, but something most definitely happened. Something transfigurative for Jesus, transformative for his friends and sacred for us all.
     It helps to set the stage a bit: All summer we’ve been reading from Matthew’s gospel. Today we pop out of Matthew for a week and dive into Luke. We leave the active part of Jesus’ ministry—his teachings throughout Galilee, the parables, the stories, the healings-- to be with Jesus as he heads for Jerusalem and into the very first Holy Week. Jesus is trying to get the apostles ready. He needs his friends with him for this journey. He needs them to get it. He needs them ready for the increased scrutiny, for the arrest, the torture, the death… for Jesus being gone. They need to feel all of this, for only in feeling it---really feeling it---will they be open to the ultimate Thin Place: the glory, wonder, and awe of the Resurrection.
And they aren’t getting it.
 Maybe they don’t want to, maybe they simply can’t.
 Regardless, his closest friends—Peter, James and John-- follow Jesus up Mount Hermon because He needed to get away and in His wisdom Jesus knew they needed to get away too.
It’s only then, when they get away from the distractions of their life, when they get quiet enough, relaxed enough, open enough, that this thing happens. Jesus’ appearance-- his countenance--changes. One commentator describes what happened like this:
 “The indwelling Deity darted out its rays through the veil of Jesus’ flesh; His face shone with Divine majesty, like the sun in its strength” At that transfiguring moment, God’s glory could no longer be contained within Jesus…it burst forth.
    Sometimes, God’s glory just can’t be contained. Sometimes it over flows, overwhelming our senses.
It’s what happens in Thin places: we’re overwhelmed by God’s Glory.
In Thin Places, God’s Glory can no longer be contained.
Gabriel’s annunciation to Mary was a Thin Place, as was Christmas morning, Jesus’ baptism, and the Presentation of Jesus in the temple. Each of these moments were times when, in the course of a routine action---Mary going about the household duties of a young Galilean woman, the birth of a baby to a poor traveling couple, the baptism of a follower of John, the fulfilling of  purity laws by a devout Jewish couple, and the quick trip up a mountain for some retreat time with friends----in the course of these ordinary events--- God’s radiance bursts through, our efforts to shut the Divine out of our lives, the noise of daily life which tries to outshine the radiance of God, fails, and we are overwhelmed with what is pure and holy and sacred.
 Our humanity can’t manage a steady diet of this radiance. We spend a lot of time and energy layering “life” upon the in-breaking of the Holy—the radiance of God. Therefore, moments of the Holy-- Thin Place experiences--- are usually fleeting…not because God retreats, but because, being overwhelmed, we reach back into the familiar—the noise of daily life--to ground ourselves in the routine, the ordinary, the familiar and unchallenging ebb and flow of our days.
The Feast of the Transfiguration is one of those days in the church year which reminds us to stop all the noise, to shut down all the distractions and make some space for the mystery of God to burst forth when we least expect it, and yet amazingly, most need it.
So, my friends, enjoy these waning days of summer, make space for the Divine and be prepared to have the love of God, as given to us in the person of Jesus Christ, transfigure and transform us into exactly who it is God created us to be!
Amen!

Proper 12A July 30, 2017

This Sunday I was the preacher at St Matthew's Outdoor Eucharist and Parish Picnic. I jotted some notes down and it turned into a little homily. What I actually preached was connected to these thoughts. 
I think. ;-) 

Our Gospel today is chock full of parables---rapid fire parables that get a bit more obscure as they go on. From the tiniest of all seeds growing into the mightiest of all bushes to the net catching every kind of fish known to humankind, these parables are trying to tel
l us what the kingdom of heaven is like---what it is like when God’s vision for all creation is reached----It’s not easy to describe, although Jesus tries his best. The kingdom of heaven is like…well it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced and it, when you get a glimpse of it, is the most peaceful and real and awesome thing you’ve ever experienced. In other words, the Kingdom of Heaven, the creation as God created it to be is…..
Something to be experienced more than described.
The kingdom of heaven is not much something you can figure out or go out and find.  You don’t shop for it at a store or order it at amazon.com.  You can’t decide you’re going to get the kingdom through 7 easy steps you heard on an infomercial.
No, the kingdom of heaven is more like something that you stumble upon while doing something else, such as making dinner, washing dishes or driving to work.
There is, for most of us, something of an “Ah ha!;” quality, an experience of “Oh my goodness, now I get it!” sensation about the kingdom of heaven.  It is not always sudden; indeed it is more often a slow, gradual and growing awareness of what God is really like and what God is actually expecting of God’s people in the world.
But it always has an epiphany feeling to it.  We go along, thinking thatby following the Golden rule, by trying to incorporate the teachings of Jesus into our daily lives we will, in the end, gain entrance into God’s kingdom.
 But here’s the deal---The kingdom of heaven isn’t supposed to be a place we end up, it’s supposed to be a place we create…right here on earth…or more accurately, the kingdom of heaven is here on earth---it’s right here, right among us, all the time…but we have a really difficult time noticing it, and it has a really difficult time breaking through, because we have all of the stuff of This World, blocking it.
But when we quiet ourselves enough, when we slow down enough, when we listen enough, when we look enough, when we turn away from the phones, and the computers and the traffic, and the to-do lists and and and….when we put ourselves in the position to receive—to notice—to see---to hear, we will, in the simplest things, in the mundane things, in the ordinary things, discover the great and awe-inspiring kingdom of heaven…right here on earth.

Sometimes We're Wheat, Sometimes We're Weeds Proper 10 Yr A St John's Youngstown

+Some days we're wheat, some days we're weeds.
Today our Gospel is the Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds. Or, as it was called in the old days: The Parable of the Wheat and the Chaff.
Parables are confusing because they often don’t mean what they appear to say. If we just stay on the surface of the story we won’t really “get it”-- and I don’t know about you but I don’t want to stay on the top of this parable! On the surface, it suggests there’s an “in group” and an “out group,” that God would take God’s own beloved children and banish them to eternal damnation and hellfire.
I can’t believe that. I just won’t believe that. It doesn’t gibe with how I experience God. And, it makes me nuts to think that someone who has been injured by the church before, someone who’s been demeaned or degraded by someone “in the name of God” would choose today to finally walk back through these doors and hear this parable, without any explanation. Parables need to be dug into…for only in digging can we reach the richness of the dark and fertile soil that makes up this story.
     On the surface, the world seems divided into two camps—the good and the evil. The in and the out. The wheat and the weed. But it just isn’t that cut and dry. As anyone who’s tried to weed a garden can attest, weeds can look like flowers and flowers can look like weeds. At first glance, it’s really difficult to know what you’re looking at: Is it a flowerI? Or is it a weed?
Do you know that hostas, those ubiquitous plants of hearty character and wide variety, were originally considered a weed? But over time and through some intentional taming, we now consider it a viable garden plant.  Which is wheat and which is weed? It’s hard to tell. Today’s weed just may be tomorrow’s wheat. (or hosta!)
    We all have weeds. We all have wheat. We all have both, we all are both. Some days we’re more weedy than others. And, thankfully, other days we’re more wheaty. Some days we’re who we want to be, other days we aren’t.
   This is because the Evil One, the sower of weeds, lurks within each of us-- it's not an outside force—it’s an inside job. As St. Paul says in today’s Epistle: “if by the spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” Throughout biblical history are stories of people being jealous of each other, of desperately wanting what another has. Not because we donLt have enough, but because somehow we want the other person to have less. We don’t like this part of ourselves, but this part is within all of us…just looks t what happened between Cain and Abel and then as we heard earlier, Jacob and Esau? Working to live into the fullness of God means that we have to turn away from the deep-seated ways of the past—-of dog eat dog, every man and woman for themselves mentality. We need to lose the old ways of decay and death, and embrace the new way of growth and life.
We can hold on to the old ways or we can let them go. It’s up to us. We can stay as a weed or we can grow into wheat. Weeds are easy—they grow fast, need virtually no tilling, no fertilizing, no encouragement to grow. Wheat—-Gorgeous flower gardens, rows of crops are trickier—they need attention, nurture, and care.
   The theologian Karl Rahner says that in all we do we’re either moving toward God or away from God. When we’re moving toward God, we’re letting the light of Christ nurture us and care for us; when we move toward God we are tilling our souls with faith, belief and hope.
When we’re moving away from God we’re letting the darkness of doubt, the uneasiness of disbelief and the decay of despair rule. These doubts, disbelief and despair are the stuff of weeds, the stuff of Not-God, the stuff of darkness—-blocking us from the fullness of God.
    Sometimes we are wheat…and sometimes we are weeds. Sometimes we do the work of God—-feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, standing up for the abused and the discarded…and sometimes the darkness wins and we serve ourselves instead of our neighbor, we pass by the lost, we dismiss the downtrodden and we fail to respect the dignity of every human being, regardless of the color of their skin, the gender of their beloved or the name they use for God.
     But don’t fear when the weeds infiltrate our life, when our choices lead us astray, when our faith withers, don’t give up on the harvest— focus on the good: the wheat, the flowers, the stuff of God in your life.
Because, when we focus on the Good, the “not of God” stuff will be overcome, overwrought and overthrown by a power greater than any weed, a force stronger than any evil, a Love bigger than any Doubt.
“Let anyone with ears listen:” God doesn’t toss any of us into an unquenchable fire.
We may be weeds a lot more often that we wish. We may move away from God more frequently than we care to admit, but once we settle into the promise of our faith, once we till the soil of our souls, once we dig deep enough into our desire for the Good, we’ll discover that God has always and will always be there, deep within us, ready to toss away the chaff of fear and the weeds of doubt, freeing us to bloom into the bouquet of Love which is God. +

Darkness Almost Wins: The Binding of Isaac Proper 8 Yr A July 2, 2017 Trinity, Hamburg

+I so wanted to preach on the gospel this morning. I wanted to speak with you about how what we do---every single thing that we do----is representative of our faith. How in these few verses from Matthew, Jesus is telling us—what you do to unto others, you are doing unto me.
 I really wanted to preach on that…but because our first reading is one of the most disturbing stories in all the Bible, I have to preach about the attempted sacrifice, the binding, of Isaac.
In this story, Abraham passively accepts what he believes God is calling him to do—kill his son. This is the same Abraham who’s argued with God, laughed at God, and debated with God. Now, suddenly he just blindly accepts that God is calling him to complete this heinous act? He doesn’t argue with God about this? How can this be?
And then there’s God. God is asking Abraham to kill this son that God proclaimed would produce more descendants than stars in the sky? God commands Abraham to kill him? As a test of Abraham’s faith?!
 What is this some bizarre, twisted Divine game?
I don’t know about you, but the God I worship, the God I adore, doesn’t do things like this.
At least, in my better moments I believe that the God of my understanding doesn’t do things like this.
But then there are those other moments.
You know, those moments when a young man walks into an elementary school and massacres first graders.
When a man claiming to want to pray with a bible study group shots them in cold blood at Mother Emmanuel AME Church
When a man spewing hateful rhetoric assassinates party=goers at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando.
When my friend Ian, at age 21, takes his own life because the depression that plagued him gathered up enough darkness to, in that discrete moment in time, block out the light and love of God, leading to his suicide.
When a nagging health issue turns out to be a lethal form of cancer.
These moments, the moments when the most faithful among us cry out “where was God? Where is God? How could God?” lead us to ask, “why?” And lead us to perhaps believe that our God actually could have asked Abraham to kill Isaac.
Do we have a bitter God? A vengeful God, a hate-filled God, an arbitrary God?
Of course not.
Then…why do horrific things happen? How? How, with an all powerful, loving Creator can such bad and awful things happen?
Well the answer may sound polly-anish to some, insufficient to others, terrifying to still others, but I think the reason horrible things happen is because while our God is an awesome God, God is not the only force at work in this world. You may call it demons, or Satan, or evil…it doesn’t matter what we call it…but there is a deep darkness in this world and it has been in this world since that infamous disobedience by the first humans. It’s a darkness that, as shown through the cunning serpent in the Garden of Eden story, is incredibly attractive to us. The job of us as Christians is to counter-act that cunning darkness in all we do.
It’s what Jesus is talking about in this morning’s Gospel. We’re the foot soldiers of God in this world. We know the task…we’re to give to those in need, we’re to lift up the downtrodden, help mend the broken hearted, stand up and speak out against injustice. We’re to overcome the forces of darkness with the light of love. We are to do this. Constantly.
Why?
Because the forces of darkness in this world are relentless. They’re constantly re-inventing themselves, they’re cunning, baffling, and powerful. And it’s up to us to defeat them.
What propelled my friend Ian to take his own life three years ago this week? Despair.
What causes madmen to enter schools, churches and nightclubs to kill at will? Cunning Evil.
What pushes a suicide bomber into such a warped sense of faith that they think blowing up themselves and countless others is the work of God? A baffling mis-interpretation of God fueled by the Evil One.
There are forces at work in our world that need to be pushed back. They need to be challenged. They need to be defeated. And that happens through us. With every act of love that we do, darkness takes a body blow. With every act of charity, evil takes a hit, with every act of justice, hatred loses more of its grip.
And the more evil, darkness, hate and despair are pushed back, the closer we are to seeing the Kingdom of God in this world.
But, we still have the nagging issue of Abraham and Isaac.
How could God ask Abraham to kill Isaac?
The clear and certain answer is this: God didn’t.
And as Abraham was binding Isaac, as he lay him on the pile of wood, as he prepared to plunge that knife into him, God was screaming, God was begging, God was pleading with Abraham to stop. For God knew that the voice Abraham heard was not Divine at all.
It was the cunning voice of darkness, the same voice of darkness that propels terrorists, murderers, rapists and yes even my friend Ian. For the forces of darkness in this world are indeed cunning and baffling and can only, will only be forever silenced, through Love. Our love. Given to one another fully and thoroughly. No exceptions.
So.. maybe I did preach the Gospel after all. There is Evil and there is Goodness. There is Hate and there is Love.
And by living our lives as Jesus taught us to live them, Goodness will prevail, Love will reign and God? God will find it good…very very good.
Amen.

1 From Disciples to Apostles, We Can Too Day of Pentecost, 2017 Trinity, Hamburg

+On this day, 2000 years ago, the 12 disciples became apostles. They went from being students, learning at the foot of a teacher to being messengers—sent out, emboldened by the Holy Spirit to spread the Good News of Christ. Today we’re all apostles, for each and every Sunday, we’re sent out from here to do the work of Jesus Christ in the world. The ability to do that work, the drive to do it, the aching to do it is a gift of the Holy Spirit.
And today, the Day of Pentecost is when we commemorate this gift.
The disciples were together to observe the Jewish holiday of Shavuot which, because it occurs 50 days after the Passover, was also known as Pentecost.
So on the 50th day the disciples are once again together---behind locked doors--- when this violent wind, with divided tongues “as of fire” alights on each of them and then--- as if the fire and wind wasn’t enough—they each begin speaking in other languages so that all within earshot could hear the message of God’s Love in their native tongue.
What a show described in our reading from Acts—the wind tossing everything to and fro, the tongues of fire, glistening in red, orange and yellow, the cacophony of voices ringing across the city, the Day of Pentecost was (and is!) a day of sensory overload!!
The Holy Spirit is here and she wants to be sure we notice!!!!
While our reading from Acts gives us the fire and brimstone version of the Holy Spirit’s arrival, the reading from John is more subtle: a gentler, quieter bestowing of the spirit on Easter night.
Jesus, after making his initial resurrection appearance to the group breathes on them, filling them with the Holy Spirit.
It’s curious, isn’t it? The gift of the Holy Spirit being given in two distinctly different ways.
Why?
Why do we get two conflicting accounts of how the Holy Spirit was given?
Well, while I’m sure Biblical scholars have a whole host of explanations for this, for me it seems kind of obvious. I’m not at all surprised that the gift of the Holy Spirit, first given in the quiet intimate way of Jesus on the evening of the first Easter had to, some 50 days later, be given again—with great pomp and memorable circumstance.
Why twice? Did the first time not “take?” Did Jesus’ breath fail to do the deed?
Of course not; what happened is what always happens—the disciples didn’t get it—the disciples, although given the means to be apostles chose instead to hide-out, remaining students of a of a no longer physically present teacher. They simply didn’t take the gift given to them. They stayed put, waiting for “someone” else to do it even though Jesus had empowered, equipped, and encouraged them to become apostles---messengers, teachers in and of themselves, healers, rabble rousers, prophets.
The disciples were acting very disciple like when Jesus, resurrected and ascended, waited for them to put on the mantle of apostles and go out into the world, forgiving sins, healing pain, and spreading Good News. I guess, after 49 days of waiting, even God reaches a limit and so, on the 50th day the third person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit in all her fire breathing, wind blowing, dancing glory crashes through the locked doors, minds, and hearts of the disciples and, once and for all, makes them apostles.
Not only was the Day of Pentecost 2,000 years ago a big deal it is, today, right here and right now, a Big Deal.
What will it take to free our own locked hearts, minds and souls? Do you need a rush of violent wind and tongues of fire to finally exercise your, as St Paul names them,  God-given gifts of the Spirit?
At this time and in this place---Trinity Episcopal Church in Hamburg, NY---the Holy Spirit is swirling about, empowering you to create something all-together new.
Right here. And right now.
My friends, today is the day that you—long-time faithful members, recent questioning but hanging in there members, previous members who’ve stepped away only to find yourselves pulled back into this fold---all of you---today is the day you graduate from being  disciples to being apostles. Today is the day that each of you find your voice to exercise your unique gift of the Spirit in this place. It will take all of you to usher in the next manifestation of Trinity, Hamburg.
Right outside these red doors lies a hurting and hungry world that longs for love, compassion and hope. You are what they need.God alone cannot bring them through these doors. Jesus, alone, cannot seat them in these pews.  But the Holy Spirit, working in and through you?
She can.
The Holy Spirit can enflame your hearts with the courage, the commitment, and the creativity to develop the type of beloved community where long-time seekers, short-time searchers, and everyone in between can find their spiritual home. But only if you open your doors, unlock your hearts, and engage with the world around you.
Trinity Hamburg is not a priest. Trinity Hamburg is You. I challenge you, I encourage you, I urge you to make this place a reflection of who you are and who you, propelled by the blowing, burning and dancing of the Holy Spirit, desire it to be. Because when you do that, God will smile, Jesus will be delighted and the Holy Spirit? Well, she’ll keep dancing in your hearts.
Amen. And Alleluia.