Sermon: Pentecost Promises

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Pentecost Sunday, Year C

The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse,

Director of the Whitaker Institute,

Episcopal Diocese of Michigan

St. James Episcopal Church, Dexter, MI

Sermon Preached on June 9, 2019

May the words of my mouth 

and the meditation of all our hearts

be acceptable to you, O Lord, 

our strength and our redeemer. Amen

Good morning, St. James! What joy to be with you again.

My name is The Rev. Vicki Hesse and I serve as

the Director of the Whitaker Institute,

the educational arm of the Diocese. 

As you may know, Mother Carol is on Sabbatical,

so it is my honor to be with you today on this special feast day,

Pentecost! 

At 8:15am – ask who knows what Pentecost means?

In the early church, “Pentecost” happened

when the Holy Spirit entered the community

after Jesus ascended to heaven.

Jesus promised to send “The Advocate” – the Holy Spirit –

to teach the gathered community and

to remind them of all that Jesus had done. 

Literally, Pentecost translates to “the fiftieth day.”

-         in both the Hebrew and Christian tradition. 

The day marks a Jewish feast seven weeks after Passover

and marks a Christian feast 50 days after Easter, when Jesus died, was resurrected and then ascended – that’s when

the Holy Spirit arrived (as we read infrom Acts).

At 8:15am – ask for us, what is the meaning of Pentecost? 

Pentecost, the arrival of the Holy Spirit,

annually points us to God’s power of Love.

We say we are “filled with the Holy Spirit” when we are:

inspired, creative, argumentative yet persuadable,

or when we are:

broken at the suffering in the world

or moved to pity at the sight of loss and grief.

The Holy Spirit works through the mystery of sitting in prayer and the power of inviting God’s unpredictable presence

to transform us as a community – like we did at the Bishop election last Saturday. (Who was there?)

…. That is Pentecost –the birth // day of the Church!

The reading in Acts today describes Peter’s Pentecost, that day

standing among the disciples,

in the midst of that rush of violent wind,

among all the devout people

hearing in their own languages

the testimony of God’s power. Can you imagine?

Bishop Gene Robinson[1] tells the story of a time when

"…A priest in a large church in Florida…

decided to dramatize the Holy Spirit coming like wind

in a spectacular way.

The priest got [an] engine out of

one of the boats used in the Everglades—

an airplane propeller attached to a big gasoline engine—

and mounted it in the choir loft high

in the back of the church.

{The idea was that} wind from the propeller

would blow out across the congregation

when the story of the coming of the Holy Spirit was read.

It seemed like a great idea.

The priest and an usher gave it a dry run

on Saturday afternoon, and although it was noisy,

it worked just fine, and promised

a spectacular effect for Sunday morning. 

So when the great moment arrived,

and the lector read,

"And suddenly from heaven there came a sound

like the rush of a violent wind and it filled the entire house,"

well, at that moment, the engine coughed once and

then howled into life. 

But the effect was a little different

than it had been at rehearsal. 

The sudden screaming gust of wind sent sheet music

and bulletins flying out over the congregation. 

Coiffures came undone and hair streamed out from faces. 

The preacher's sermon notes were gone with the wind…

Everything was messy, and noisy, and

absolutely unpredictable.”

P1 – they were bewildered and asked what does this mean

Peter’s first Pentecost must have been like that,

when the disciples heard a sound like the rush

of a violent wind, filling the entire house

 and all began to speak in the native language of each.

That Holy Spirit shook things up;

just like Jesus did in his testimony to the truth –

which, of course, got him in trouble. 

That Holy Spirit prompted the disciples

“…to make disturbing, disruptive,

and world-changing testimony

and call into question the values of the world.”[2]

That Holy Spirit bewildered those present,

arriving like a violent wind,

with tongues of flame and

voices speaking in many languages –

this was a totally new moment for everyone!

That Holy Spirit!

So of course, they were bewildered, perplexed,

And asked, “what does this mean?”

P2 – we are bewildered and ask what does this mean

“…And that's just the way it is with the Spirit. 

[The Spirit is] that part of God that

refuses to be contained in the little boxes we create

for God to live in,

safely confined to the careful boundaries

we set for God's Spirit. 

The problem is--and the possibility is—

God just won't stay put. 

And God won't let you and me stay put,

content to believe what we've always believed,

what we've always been taught,

what we've always assumed…”[3] 

See, in Greek, the word for Holy Spirit is “Paraclete,” which means one who “comes alongside another.”[4]

So it is, today, when *that Holy Spirit or Paraclete

comes alongside to strengthen us or

to rile us up for the work ahead or

to prompt or invigorate us into action.

*That Holy Spirit equips us

for the work of ministry

with a bewildering conviction.

*That Holy Spirit pushes us

beyond what we imagined and stirs things up.

*That Holy Spirit reminds us that

God’s way is different than the World’s way.

*That Holy Spirit comes alongside

our visceral anger at other’s incivility.

*That Holy Spirit activates our hearts

with compassionate grief

when someone innocent suffers for no reason.

So of course, we are bewildered, perplexed,

And ask, “what does this mean?”

P3. God surprised them with visions and dreams of what is possible

For those disciples, that day,

*the Holy Spirit promoted new visions and dreams

of what could be possible

when the Spirit moved in their hearts

and fueled them forward.

God surprised them with enormous possibility

through the Holy Spirit.

P4. God surprises us with visions and reams of what is possible

Nd, God surprises us, today, with possibilities too!

The Holy Spirit comes alongside us with newness:

new stories to tell,

new mercies to share,

new love to spread,

new anger to be fueled

new voice to get us out of our box. 

Are you bewildered by your life or this world? 

Great! Because this Pentecost,

God promises to surprise you and to mix things up! 

Perhaps the Holy Spirit might guide you to

·        Begin your meal by holding hands and

saying to the person on your right,

“You are the temple of God

and the Holy Spirit dwells within you.”

OR

·        Find someone who “speaks” another “language” –

(literally or metaphorically) and you take time

to listen with the ear of your heart,

even (or especially) when you disagree.

·        Invite family and friends to your special

to a Pentecost birth day party for the church!  

Standing in a circle you can share Holy Spirit bewilderments or blessings!

The younger people may want to share visions,

and the older people, dreams.

Then, raise your goblets and toast "To the Holy Spirit"!

This Pentecost, the good news is that

the Holy Spirit wants you to experience the power of Love

the possibility of Hope and the promise of Faith.

Happy Birth Day, Church!

Amen

---

[1] The Rt. Rev. V. Gene Robinson, In The Eye of the Storm: Swept To The Center By God (Seabury Books, 2008) 9-10

[2] David Lose, “Come Alongside” sermon notes sides here on June 7, 2019.

[3] Ibid. Robinson

[4] Ibid. Lose

Sermon: Affection

Fifth Sunday in Lent, Year C

The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse,

Director of the Whitaker Institute,

Episcopal Diocese of Michigan

Cathedral Church of St. Paul, Detroit, MI

Sermon Preached on April 7, 2019

O Lord, take my lips and speak through them;

take our minds and think through them;

take our hearts

and set them on fire with love for you. Amen.

Many years ago I worked

as a computer project manager.

This one customer, Mr. Sedat,

Knew something very important:  

the difference between effectiveness and affection. 

Over the span of a year,

we met once a month to plan, review progress,

make changes and follow up on outstanding issues.

At the end of the project,

we invited my “big boss” to come and

meet the customer to show that the work was done. 

At that one-hour meeting,

Mr. Sedat asked my big boss about

his children, wife, parents, childhood, friends,

and about his life.  

For 50 minutes.

He had someone bring in tea and coffee

and lounged in conversation about personal things. 

In the last 10 minutes,

he simply shared the results of the project

and thanked the big boss. 

I was stunned,

as I had prepared charts and graphs to show the results

which was not needed at all!

Mr. Sedat simply befriended my boss,

who left that day so pleased to know Mr. Sedat

and they promised to do more business together soon.

Now, I notice that there are many societal issues

whose solutions are couched in results measurement.

Climate change?

Cut fossil fuels by x amount,

increase forest carbon by Y

and problem solved.

Weight problem?

Count calories, reduce by x amount,

exercise by y and problem solved.

Face it, our society has an inclination

towards utilitarian morality.

And I can say that this applies to me, too.

Today’s gospel reading

has something to say about this problem of utility. 

It’s the week just prior to

Jesus’ triumphal entry to Jerusalem, and

Jesus had just raised Lazarus from the dead.

And many people believed in him.

He had learned that the chief priests and Pharisees planned to put him to death. 

With that backstory, we enter today’s gospel.

The family of Lazarus

held a dinner party for Jesus and his disciples. 

At that dinner party,

Mary poured expensive perfume

on Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her hair. 

Judas exclaimed in the midst of that action

why the perfume instead of giving to the poor? 

There, we hear about this perspective of utility.

We hear the difference between

the way of Mary and the way of Judas.

What was true then is true today –

two options:

the way of effectiveness and utility and

the way of humility and affection.[1]

Just to be clear, aside from Judas being a thief,

he was the utilitarian. 

He was calculating the costs and benefits

of that expensive perfume. 

And with quick math

he decided that the best use of that perfume

could be reasoned logically.

He was not concerned about particular poor people,

but for “the poor” as a generalized blob. 

Total the number of meals served,

beds filled,

healthcare units distributed

and problem solved.

For Judas, that nard could be broken down

into a price that could create an abstract good.

But Mary had a different way.

She was not measuring costs and benefits. 

And in her slow contemplation,

she decided that the best way was affection,

to be guided by love

for the One who was before her:

that specific person whose value is priceless. 

She showed her love as abundant, effusive, excessive.

Her gesture of anointing

was not to show the value of the love,

but “to show how impossible it would be

to fix any value to such a person.”

The perfume was simply a symbol

of the infinite love that exceeds any measurement.

If there is any hope in the knowledge

that we will have “the poor” with us,

it is that the way of Mary – of affection and love. 

Pause

These two ways of

effectiveness and utility or

humility and affection – are relevant today.

The novelist Jonathan Franzen

recently unsettled the environmental conversation.

He questioned the over-focus on the current level

of atmospheric carbon: 411.

CO2, as a number, means little, he implies.

He shared about the paralysis we all feel

when faced with challenge of climate change.

He wrote of the stress that this had on his daily choices, 

so he disconnected from caring for creation.

Franzen wrote about the time when

he started to care about climate change

by watching birds.

As he paid careful, specific attention

to that tiny part of creation,

he learned about

the effect of deforestation on migration.

He began to care about the earth

not because of a carbon count

but because of the specific creature

that lived in the forest: the Cerulean warbler.

Once he started watching birds,

and worrying about their welfare,

he says he became attracted to St. Francis’s Christianity:

of loving what is concrete and vulnerable

and right in front of you.

Perhaps, when we pay attention

to the specific and concrete person right in front of us, 

The Way of Affection governs our choices. 

That person in front of us has

a story, a family, friends, an interesting life. 

When we pay attention to that person,

our lives and we are transformed

by God’s love incarnate.

When we go out and get to know real people, well,

the danger is that we might love them. 

In 2009, I came face to face with how this works

at the other border, Mexico.

That summer, my spouse Leah and I

traveled to El Paso, Texas

where for a week we lived with two Dominican Sisters. 

These nuns founded and ran Centro Santa Catalina,

a Community Center based

across the border in the city of Juarez.

They minister among and with

the poor women and children of the Colonia

located on what was once the city garbage dump. 

During the day,

we hung out with the women of the Center.

We talked, shared,

tried to teach each other our language

and played with the children. 

We saw how they lived with so little

in terms of material wealth and

so much in terms of abundant joy.

Many have built their homes over time,

often starting with cardboard and wood pallets,

and eventually graduating to cinder blocks. 

Most of their homes have no water, sewer or

electrical services; and for those who do,

the services are inadequate and unreliable. 

One day for lunch, we walked

from to Irene’s house, past rancid garbage

and

decomposing carcasses of cats and dogs,

over broken glass and wind-blown plastic bags. 

Irene, a widowed mother and grandmother

who works at the Center’s sewing co-op,

offered to prepare lunch for us in her home. 

Instead of a simple meal of beans and tortillas,

she called her grandson over

and handed him a couple of bills

from her now empty change purse. 

He slipped away and returned shortly

with a package of queso. 

She prepared a feast of enchiladas

filled with rice, beans, queso, tomatoes, salsa and spice.

The aroma filled the house!

She offered us a soda to drink. 

In my head, I cringed. I was measuring it all in my head,

Look, Irene, you have nothing!

You don’t need to feed us!  I was thinking.

Irene could certainly have fed us more simply,

scrounging up something from her near-empty pantry

and saving her money to feed her family for weeks.

Yet, thankfully, she did not understand my language.   

She only spoke in the language of God’s love

that works in God’s economy. 

Sharing what she had, with gifts from her neighbors,

trusting that it would all be enough,

grateful for our companionship.

She offered me a fresh perspective on affection.

She chose to offer us her extravagant hospitality,

to put this privileged, first-world women’s needs

over her own real needs.

Just as Mary poured out for Jesus

her expensive perfume,

Irene embodied God’s love.

. . . . . pause

Today, Mary shows us

how to love those in front of us

with all we have, excessively.

Through humility and affection,

“the poor” –

impoverished people and impoverished places –

will no longer be among us,

not because there is no need, but because (like us) 

they are named and love for who they are, 

specifically, beloved of God.

As we approach Holy Week,

God calls you to practice the Way of Love:

The way of our liberating, life giving and loving God

who knows you specifically, intimately, excessively.

You are not “the poor,” you are love made incarnate.

And, God alone grants us the grace

to love excessively

by fixing our hearts

where true joys are to be found:

Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

---

[1] Sermon inspired by Rev. Ragan Sutterfield, “Wild Lectionary: Affection vs. Effectiveness” cited here on April 4, 2019.