The Holy Spirit: God at Play. A sermon for the Feast of Pentecost, 2026

May 24, 2026

         Today is the Feast of Pentecost, when we celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit on the disciples.  Over the centuries, Christians have come up with all sorts of gimmicks to commemorate the occasion. In the Middle Ages, many churches had mechanical doves that would descend from the ceiling on Pentecost. It’s common among Episcopalians to wear red on Pentecost. There are those who love to say “It’s the birthday of the church!”—No, it’s not. I once participated in a reading of the Acts passage in different foreign languages. If you think Parthians, Cappadocia, and the like are difficult to pronounce in English, imagine what those words sound like in German.

         Our scripture readings today offer rich and varied images to help us think about the Holy Spirit. There’s the reading from Acts, which tells in dramatic fashion the descent of the Holy Spirit in tongues of fire on the disciples gathered in the Upper Room and the miraculous gift of foreign languages that allowed them to preach to the international crowds gathered in Jerusalem for the festival of Shavuot, the feast of weeks. If any of you have ever struggled to learn a foreign language, you’re probably rather envious of the disciples’ sudden fluency.

         There’s the reading from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, written to a community that valued the gift of tongues above all others. But in this case, the gift was not miraculous fluency in foreign language but ecstatic utterances that were incomprehensible to others. For Paul, such utterances were not necessarily a sign of greater faith, but only one of many possible gifts of the spirit. In a sense, he is democratizing the gifts of the Holy Spirit. It had been a source of controversy in the Corinthian community, with those who expressed these ecstatic utterances asserting their superiority over other members of the community who did not experience them. Paul’s use of the metaphor of the human body is an attempt to stress the importance of unity among the diversity of gifts and to assert the equal importance of all members.

         And then there’s the gospel text for today, which presents a very different understanding of the coming of the Holy Spirit and its importance to the emergent community of Jesus followers. It takes place on the evening of the First Easter, rather than 50 days later as Pentecost. In addition, the mood is much more contemplative, quiet. In place of the miraculous tongues of fire and the gift of languages, or even the ecstatic speech experienced among members of the Corinthian community, here we have Jesus himself imparting the Holy Spirit on his disciples. 

         But in these few sentences are powerful ideas. Drawing on themes we have been seeing the last several weeks, first of all there’s the implication of identity of Father, Son, and disciples: As the Father sent me, so I am sending you. Shared identity, shared mission, propelling the disciples out of the locked room in which they were hiding into the world. 

         The disciples are also given a unique power. “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven, if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” In Matthew that power, the power of the keys was given to Peter; here it is bestowed on all of the disciples. It marks them as a community of reconciliation and redemption and I think it is an extension of the emphasis on love that we have already seen expressed in the gospel readings over the last several weeks. 

         Finally, and for me this may be the most inspiring; there’s a verse in the Psalm that I have always found appealing and a key to understanding the exuberance of the Holy Spirit: 

         there is that Leviathan, *
which you have made for the sport of it.

         And later: 

                  You send forth your Spirit, and they are created; *
and so you renew the face of the earth.

There’s a sense that the wondrous diversity and beauty of creation is a product of God’s playfulness, something I don’t think we often appreciate fully. We’re prone to take our religious lives, and God, for that matter, a bit too seriously some times. So to imagine creation as God’s playground, if we’re created in God’s image, we should enjoy it just as God does.

         All of these texts illuminate different aspects of the Holy Spirit. But I think there is one important theme to consider. It has become common to think, since the Pentecostal movements of the twentieth century, that the Holy Spirit is primarily an individual gift, proof of one’s faith. Alternatively, and equally prevalent is the idea that individual religious experience, whether it’s the sort of ecstatic experience alluded to in I Corinthians, or simply an overwhelming sense of awe and majesty in the presence of the divine—what the 20th century Religious Studies pioneer Rudolf Otto talked about in his groundbreaking “The Idea of the Holy” is what the Holy Spirit is all about.

I don’t think that’s the case. In Acts, in John, and in I Corinthians, the gift of the Holy Spirit is first and foremost a communal gift, not an individual one. As Paul says, we are all members of one body. It is a communal gift and it is a gift to the church. But there’s a danger there, too. The Holy Spirit has too often been confined to the workings of the institutional church, to support its structures, and there’s no better example of that than our gospel hymn, a version of which is always sung at ordinations in the Episcopal Church. The orderly laying on of hands, the apostolic succession of bishops, are efforts to channel and limit the work of the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit disrupts as well as builds up. It blows where it will and leads us into new territory and new opportunities. As Jesus says to the disciples in John: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” And as we see in the reading from Acts, too, above all, the Holy Spirit is about mission, going out into the world beyond the confines of this building and the narrow patterns of our lives. It sends us out to connect with others, to share the good news, to spread God’s love, to enjoy the breadth, diversity, and exuberance of God’s creation, and to imitate that breadth, diversity, and exuberance as we build community together.

On this day, as we celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit, we are invited to discern its working in the world and in our lives. We are called to embrace its power and to let it do its work, to expand our horizons, to follow its lead, to share it with others. May it empower us to build our congregation and to imagine new ways in which God is calling us to be God’s people, and to share the good news, spreading Christ’s love in our community and the world.

Speak the Word of God with Boldness: A Homily for Evening Prayer on the Feast of Pentecost

The texts for Evening Prayer are Acts 4:18-21, 31-33 and John 4:19-26.

Today is the Feast of Pentecost. At the Eucharistic liturgy on this day we always here the story of the Holy Spirit’s descent on the disciples on this day as tongues of fire, and of their transformation from a group of puzzled and disoriented followers of a Jesus Christ who had risen from the dead and ascended to heaven, to a band of missionaries, evangelists, and healers, who went into all the world proclaiming the Good News of Jesus Christ and making disciples.

It’s a powerful story and even at a distance of 2000 years we are quickly caught up in the excitement and strangeness of it all. On this day when we celebrate the flames of the Holy Spirit burning in the hearts of the faithful, we also lament the flames that are burning in cities throughout this nation, and even here in Madison last night, as we watched on live video a police cruising being burnt.

There are many kinds of flames, flames of passion and love, flames of hatred and violence, and at this moment in our nation’s and city’s history, we are anxious and fearful. Many of us are outraged, not just by the all too familiar stories of police killing unarmed people, but by the scenes of militarized police attacking peaceful demonstrators, and also of those few instigators of violence who want to burn everything down, or by inciting violence, bring destruction on our communities, our cities, our nation.

We grasp for an appropriate, faithful, effective response to the injustice, racism, and violence we see, wondering how we as individuals or as the body of Christ might offer a witness to Christ’s love in the midst of this ongoing tragedy. The reading from Acts for the daily office seems especially fitting for our situation. It’s early days in the little Christian community. The disciples are still in Jerusalem, still worshipping in the temple, still figuring out what they are supposed to do, and how they should go about it. In chapter 2, there’s the coming of the Holy Spirit. Chapter 3 offers an account of an event that took place some time after Pentecost. Peter and John were going into the temple for daily prayer when they encountered a lame man who was brought by others to beg at the entrance. They heal him, and then go into the temple and preach.

Today’s reading picks up after that. They were arrested in the temple for preaching and brought before the council for a hearing. Peter’s testimony, and the presence with them of the man who had been healed forced the authorities to release them. It’s here that our reading picks up with Peter’s response to their demand that they no longer speak publicly about Jesus. Released from custody, Peter and John returned to the gathered community, and instead of retreating or keeping their heads down, the faithful prayed that God grant them the strength “to speak the word with boldness.”

And then we are presented with that powerful image of the believers “who were one heart and one soul” and all things were held in common. Hearing that description of a community united not only theologically but materially, sharing all possessions, confronts us with the vast chasm that divides the image of that community with what we see in our own city and nation. Economic and racial inequities persist, with the effects of those inequities being on full display thanks to COVID-19. Not only the way the disease hits and kills communities of color disproportionately, but that many in those communities are forced to put their own lives at risk as they seek to survive and earn money.

We see these inequities. At Grace we have been talking about the deep racial inequities in Dane County and Wisconsin for over five years but we seem to have little to show for it. Our consciousnesses have been raised, our white liberal guilt assuaged from time to time by the efforts members of our congregation have made, by the programs we have supported and organized, and by our involvement in organizations like MOSES, an interfaith group that is advocating for criminal justice reform. We have had dialogues on racism, hosted press conferences and other gatherings. We have done a great deal.

But little has changed. The inequities persist in spite of all our efforts and the efforts of so many others who are working toward a more just city and nation.

And now we are dispersed, prevented from gathering physically, sensing that as a community, the bonds that unite us are increasingly fragile, as “virtual” as our worship. I find it increasingly eerie when I go downtown. While the streets and sidewalks are not nearly as empty as they were a month or two ago, there’s still a very strong sense that the city has been abandoned. The Capitol Square, the public square is empty and silent. And next to the public square, the church is empty and silent as well, except for the bells that ring the hour.

In this time of suffering, fear, anger, and violence, we are called to speak boldly and to be a healing presence. We must find the strength to speak and to call our community to justice. We must find the courage to bear witness to injustice and oppression. And we must be present, for only in our presence can we do what we must do, which is to listen to the suffering voices of the oppressed and afflicted, to hear their stories. And we as we listen, we must look for signs of Christ’s presence among those voices and stories. For on the cross Jesus suffered as one of them, and they, communities of color, victims of injustice and oppression, are the crucified classes of our time.

As we discern where the Holy Spirit is leading us, as we seek to be faithful to God’s call and to respond to our community’s need, as we reimagine our identity in this new era, may the Holy Spirit guide us, giving us the strength to speak boldly and the wisdom to listen deeply and carefully.

 

 

 

 

 

Learning the languages of Pentecost: A Sermon for Pentecost, 2019

When I was twenty-one years old, I studied abroad for the year in Marburg, Germany. My trip there marked the first time I had ever flown on a plane, and while I knew I would be greeted by a friend when I landed, I was terrified. I had studied German for four semesters in college and while I could read with some facility, my speaking ability was quite limited and I my aural comprehension was weak as well. In the year I spent there, I gained considerable fluency that returned when I spent another year in Germany a decade later, and even when I traveled back some years ago. Continue reading

Pentecost and the power of love: A Sermon for Pentecost, 2018

“Come, Holy Spirit, descend upon this place and upon us, and fill us with the fire of your love.” Amen.

Today we celebrate Pentecost—the coming of the Holy Spirit on the disciples, and the spread of the Spirit’s power and love throughout the world. We are also marking the end of our program year, and our young people are participating in the service, reading lessons and prayers, among other things. And then there are two baptisms as well. Such a celebratory feeling seems like a respite from our world. To rejoice, to come together as the body of Christ across all of the generations takes away from the distress and despair in the world around us. Continue reading

The Spirit blows where it will: A Sermon for Pentecost, 2016

 

Yesterday was one of those remarkable days in ministry that are inspiring and full of joy even if it meant I couldn’t have a relaxing afternoon, or work around the house. In the morning, the “More Just Community” task force gathered for an update on members’ engagement with issues of racism, mass incarceration, and inequity. With the chaplains at the Dane County Jail, we are developing a proposal to engage with prisoners during and after their stay in jail. We heard from members who participated in the Course on African-American history organized by Justified Anger and others who are working to build relationships with other churches and community groups. By the end of the summer, we hope to be able to roll out some exciting new programs and opportunities. Continue reading

It’s not the Birthday of the Church! A Sermon for Pentecost, 2015

One of the things that most annoys me about contemporary popular Christianity is the domestication of our practices, or really the infantilization of them. In our attempt to help outsiders make sense of what we do and what we believe, we have a tendency to dumb things down. It may also be that language and imagery developed to help children understand our worship, practices, and doctrine have become so ingrained that as adults we reach to them as well. Continue reading

God’s Unruly, creative, playful Holy Spirit: A Sermon for the Feast of the Pentecost

We’ve become accustomed to rapid change in our culture and in our lives but still, sometimes, the speed and amount of change can be breathtaking. Take gay marriage for example. Two or three decades ago, it was unimaginable. Less than a decade ago, voters in Wisconsin passed a constitutional amendment banning it. Still, in the months since the Supreme Court’s verdict on the Defense of Marriage Act, courts all over the country have struck such bans down, including the one in Wisconsin. And over the weekend, we’ve been treated to scenes of marriages taking place at the City-County building a few blocks away. Wherever one stands on the issue, the rapidity of the change is unsettling. In this, as in so many other aspects of our lives, we’re often not sure what it all means, where our culture and world is moving, and where we as individuals, and as the body of Christ, should take a stand. Continue reading

Where is the Spirit leading? A sermon for the Feast of Pentecost, 2013

Today marks the Feast of Pentecost, the day when we remember the coming of the Holy Spirit to the disciples in Jerusalem, to the church, and to us. It also is the end of the Easter Season, the 50 days during which we celebrate Christ’s resurrection. Today, the liturgical color is red, the color of the flames of fire that rested above the disciples head in our reading. We are marking a turning point in the liturgical year, the end of the long cycle that begin last December with Advent. We begin the liturgical year looking forward to the birth of Christ. In the intervening months we acknowledged several moments in his life, and then we commemorated his death and resurrection. Next Sunday, or the Sunday after, depending on which liturgical scholar you read, begins the long season of Ordinary Time that will continue right through November and the very end of the church’s year. Continue reading

Seeing and hearing the Spirit: Lectionary Reflections for the Feast of Pentecost, 2013

This week’s readings are here.

On the Feast of Pentecost, our attention turns to the Holy Spirit, whose coming to the disciples we remember this day. Each of the three readings offers its own distinctive perspective on the Holy Spirit. With our focus on the drama of tongues of fire and the miraculous speaking in tongues, we tend to overlook the readings from Paul and John.

While Luke and John offer significantly different understandings of the Holy Spirit, there is one way in which they converge. In today’s gospel reading, we hear “But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.” (Jn 14:25). Later Jesus will say, “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.” (Jn 16:26).

We see that very thing happening in the Book of Acts, as the Holy Spirit repeatedly leads the disciples to make new discoveries about the Spirit’s power and about the meaning and extent of God’s grace in Jesus Christ. There are moments when we see the radical action of the Spirit, when Philip baptizes the Ethiopian eunuch; when Peter baptizes Cornelius and his family, and in Paul’s mission to the Gentiles. We see the Spirit working both on a cosmic scale and on a personal level, as with Paul’s conversion. But we also see the Spirit working as Luke writes. When Peter quotes from the prophet Joel in today’s reading, there are two significant alterations from the original text, which reads:

Then afterwards
I will pour out my spirit on all flesh;
your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
your old men shall dream dreams,
and your young men shall see visions.
Even on the male and female slaves,
in those days, I will pour out my spirit.

Peter (or Luke) changes the introducton from “then afterwards” to “In the last days” providing an urgency, an eschatalogical focus to the events of the day. Second, where the verses in Joel end with “I will pour out my spirit;” Peter (or Luke) adds “and they shall prophesy.”

There is a significant interpretation and adaptation of the passage from Joel to fit this new context. It’s evidence of early Christians re-reading and appropriating for new uses the familiar texts of the Hebrew Bible. It’s also evidence of the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit to, as Jesus puts it in John, “guide you into all truth.”

There’s a danger here, of course. There’s a tendency among many (progressive) Christians to appeal to the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit (“The Spirit is doing a new thing”) whenever they seek to introduce innovation in doctrine or practice. The lesson in Acts (and John) is that the Holy Spirit can’t be controlled: “The Spirit blows where it wills” (Jn 3:8). The Holy Spirit may certainly be doing a new thing, but that new thing may not be something we are comfortable with, just as many of the disciples weren’t comfortable with Peter’s actions regarding Cornelius. I’ve often thought that it’s best to declare the Holy Spirit’s working only from the benefit of hindsight, when we can look back on events in which participants couldn’t necessarily see clearly, but were certain they were heeding the Spirit’s call.

Paul offers us a glimpse of an appropriate caution. In Romans 8, there’s a sense that the Spirit sometimes speaks on our behalf, or speaks with us; and that when it does so, we are incorporated in Christ (a spirit of adoption making us children of God and joint heirs with Christ). At first glance that might seem to lead to an even more self-interested understanding of the Holy Spirit. But Paul adds, ‘if in fact we suffer with him.” So he brings it back to the cross, to power made perfect in weakness.

 

 

Groaning with the Spirit: A Sermon for the Feast of Pentecost, Year B

May 27, 2012

I’ve been thinking a lot about worship and the sacraments this week. I’ve been wondering about our worship—whether it’s exciting, or powerful, or meaningful enough. But I’ve also been thinking about the sacraments; the latter because of the discussion going on in our church across the country about open communion—or communion of the unbaptized. Now, if you want to know what I think about that, it’s pretty easy to find out; just ask me, or read some of what I’ve written. Continue reading