A sermon preached by the Dean of Chapel at Pentecost (8 June) 2014
As the Father has sent me, so I send you.
When Jesus had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘receive the Holy Spirit’.
Today is the 21 anniversary of my very first sermon. I remember the occasion vividly. I was living
in Istanbul, and there I had met the chaplain of a neighbouring ‘parish’ in this case, the Church of
England chaplain in Bucharest. He had invited me to come there to preach. So I went. I remember
my nerves before preaching for the first time, not helped by the fact that the British Ambassador
and various other luminaries of the expat Community were there, as well as a gang of Rumanian
aristocratic lades in feather bowers and mantillas.
It was such an event for me, in those days, to wear a tie, that I remember that too, and which one it
was. Then, there was the rather wild party that the chaplain took me to that evening, with some
young Romanian friends of his (very different Romanians from the ladies I had met earlier!). These
young people were experiencing the first flush of freedom following the fall of the communist
regime not long before. It was quite a Pentecost night I can tell you!
We had the same reading from Genesis that we heard this evening. How the people of Babel built
a great tower in their struggle to reach the heavens, and to demonstrate their God-like aspirations,
and how God sowed confusion among them to thwart their ambition, by planting many different
languages among them. In biblical understanding, this story spells out the consequences of the fall
from grace of Adam and Eve. A previously united humanity becomes divided because of the sins
of pride and ambition and of seeking to emulate God. In the ensuing chaos of miscommunication
and conflict, the tower famously comes tumbling down.
Bucharest has an extraordinary visual aid to this story. The dictator’s ‘Palace of the People’. Just
finished when I was there, it is a monstrous feat of Stalinist architecture, in a sort of debased neoclassical style. It is one of the biggest buildings in the world, and its construction involved
demolishing whole neighbourhoods of a once beautiful capital city.
It seemed to me (and I know that many Romanians felt the same) to sum up the greed, the tyranny,
the gangsterism, and the crushing of human rights and aspirations that the communist regime
practiced, under its malign dictator Nicole Caucescu. Into the bargain, it is, as you will know if you
have seen it, and if you are interested in architectural style, as I am, the pinnacle of vulgarity and
ostentation.
The reason that the tower of Babel story is used on this day hinges on the idea that at Pentecost,
God gave humankind a new language, the language of the gospel, that can be understood by all.
Babel represents the destructive ambition, confusion and corruption that characterises human
society at its worst. At Pentecost this multitude of conflicting voices is symbolically replaced by a
new language. For we are told in the Acts of the Apostles that the Spirit enabled those who
experienced its dramatic coming, to understand the language of Christ, a language of unity love and
hope.
Those of you who were here this morning, heard read out the famous account of Pentecost Day,
from the Acts of the Apostles. How the Spirit came upon them like flames of fire and like a roaring
wind. How this was experienced and understood not only by disciples themselves, but also by
crowds of people from every part of the known world. It was extremely touching to hear this
account in the context of the baptisms of two babies which took place this morning, so that we
were able to welcome the presence of the Spirit in the sacrament of Baptism, just as we celebrated
the spirit’s life on this great feast day.
Another dimension to Pentecost is added by the verses from St John’s gospel read by the Master.
We are told that Jesus was standing in the midst of his close friends, shortly after the resurrection.
Peace be with you he said. Then he breathed on them. Then he said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit’. I
often try to imagine this scene. How did he do it? The words for breath, wind and spirit are closely
linked both in Hebrew, and in Greek. Did Jesus literally breathe his breath on the disciples, as
described? I like to imagine that he did. That he did literally breath his spirit on to them.
The chronology of John is so different from the other gospels that we cannot know whether John
and Luke are writing about the same event in different ways or different events at different times.
These accounts, biblical scholars mostly agree were based on eye-witness accounts which were
written down and gathered together years later, by which time different traditions of what had
happened had developed, especially between the gospels of Mathew Mark and Luke, and St John’s
gospel.
Whether it is one event or two doesn’t really matter. The importance is the effect on that embryo
Christian community. Which included, Jesus’s Disciples, his mother, and the other men and
women who were close to them. For on that day, they were inspired. They were given confidence
courage and hope to be witnesses for Jesus. And they felt that the giver of these things was with
them in the giving. They felt the comfort and the reassurance of his presence, and courage to take
his message out of their culture and into lands afar, even when their lives were threatened and their
faith brought suffering and martyrdom. It was an extraordinary transformation, from the group of
shocked friends and disciples who had fled from the scene of the Crucifixion, to these Apostles,
ready to take on the world.
This sense of Christ’s presence, and the joy, hope, love and reassurance that he gives has gone on
being the experience of Christians throughout the ages and into our own time. Of course it has
sometimes gone very wrong – the churches witness has never been unblemished. However, the
Christians who have inspired me-the-most, from many different ages, whether it is St Thomas in the
first, St Francis in the c13, Elizabeth Fry in the 19th or Desmond Tutu in the 21 century, have had
this same experience deep in their being, of the Spirit that gives courage, love, joy and hope, by
which they have felt called and inspired to serve.
It is my understanding that in the proper sense, this great feast of the Spirit, is therefore a deeply
political feast. A moment’s reflection on the names I have just mentioned will give you a hint of
what I mean. It is political in the sense that the Spirit of Christ reveals to us a source of authority
and power which is above all human law and institutions. In ancient Israel, Pentecost, or the Feast
of Weeks as it is known in Judaism, this day was kept as the day the Jews recalled how God handed
the tablets of the Law to Moses on Mount Sinai. For Christians, this is the day that the new Law
comes from Christ, not in tablets of stone or in the form of commandments, noble and important
though those things are, but in the form of the spirit of truth, peace, mercy, forgiveness and justice.
Pope Francis’s extraordinary initiative on his recent visit to the Holy Land, is a contemporary
example of a person acting through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. As you may know, on his
recent trip he brought with him a rabbi and an imam, both of them personal friends of his from his
previous ministry as Archbishop of Argentina. In the context of this reconciliatory approach to his
tour, he invited political and religious leaders of the Jewish Christian and Moslem communities to
come together to pray, in the Vatican, yesterday.
By bringing deeply conflicted sides together so creatively as he has just done, he has demonstrated
precisely a Spirit inspired freedom. A freedom that does not give final significance to the tyranny
of divisions, nationalistic identities, and historical hatreds. A freedom that promises life and peace
to those currently living under the yoke of injustice and strife.
As St Paul wrote in the letter to the Romans, we are not to be conformed to this world. We are not
to be conditioned by custom or tradition or by fear or coercion. Or by our current idolatries and
prejudices, whether they are materialism or the cult of celebrity, or fascination with wealth.
Whether it is Babel-like ambitions, that can hold us in their thrall. All of these potential risks to our
full humanity may be rightly cast-into- context when we allow the Spirit of Christ to dwell in us and
make us fully human.
And that surely, at this time of transition for many of us, is worth pondering. Many of our number
in the College right now are on the cusp of new beginnings. Finding our way in the world beyond
these courts, beyond the home. Whoever we are, the summer weeks are likely to give us a little
room for reflection and reassessment of our values. The values which will inform us and shape us
in the years to come. And the Christian faith encourages us to set our ambitions and our hopes in
the context of the higher Law of Christ, who sends his Spirit to help us, to resource us, and to
inspire us.
Of this Spirit, St John writes, ‘the wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you
cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit’.
You see, the Spirit exists not only for the building up of the Church and of the individual Christian.
We can no more contain the Spirit than a kettle can contain the ocean.
No, we cannot contain the Spirit, and we need to remember
that wherever we see peace justice and love breaking out, there is a sign of the Spirit at work.
Wherever we see people working in harmony where once there was division, there is a sign of the
Spirit’s work.
Wherever there is gentleness and justice in places of conflict, there is the Holy Spirit.
And wherever there is love, the Spirit is at work.
Jesus said, as the Father has sent me, so I send you.
Then he breathed on them and said to them, ‘receive the Holy Spirit’.