Sermon: June 05, 2022 Pentecost Sunday

Preacher: Rev. Ryan Slifka

Scripture(s): Acts 2:1-21; Titus 3:4-8

God, Holy Spirit, come to us, come among us; 
come as the wind, and cleanse; 
come as the fire, and burn; 
come as the dew, and refresh: 
convict, convert, and consecrate 
many hearts and lives 
to our great good and your greater glory. Amen. 

The great preacher and teacher, Will Willimon, tells a story of moving into a new neighbourhood, and his neighbour coming to introduce herself to him. Upon finding out that he was a preacher, she promptly introduced herself as “charismatic.” She attending a Pentecostal Church with a lot of explosive energy, the kind where everyone raises their hands. She said to him that she had recently had an incredible, ecstatic experience of God’s presence. She said that she had “received the baptism of the Holy Spirit,” and was assured of her salvation. 

When his neighbour revealed she had “received the baptism of the Holy Spirit,” he responded by saying, “that makes two of us.” 

The neighbour seemed skeptical. Willimon belonged to a mainline, liberal church. Where holding up hands in worship was deemed impolite, and high-octane emotions were reserved for watching sports on T.V. Anything but charismatic, and where talk of a “baptism of the Holy Spirit” might kindle a decline in attendance. After a few more conversations she became downright suspicious of his claim that he, too, had received the “baptism of the Holy Spirit,” as she had. 

One day he was leaving the house, and she was in the front yard, trimming her hedge. “I’m praying for you,” she said, leaning over the hedge, pointing her clippers at him in a kind of menacing way. 

Willimon thanked her and asked her if she was praying for something specific for him. She said she was. 

“I’m praying that you’ll receive the gift of the Holy Spirit,” she said. 

He thanked her again, but, he said, “you need not bother God with that request since the Lord has graciously given me the Spirit already.” 

“Really?” she asked, doubtfully. “When? Where?” 

“I can tell you that,” he responded. “I was a few months old at the time. A preacher named Forrester took me up in his arms, poured water on my head, and told me I have the Holy Spirit.” 

“Pfft,” the neighbour scoffed. “That’s not baptism of the Holy Spirit.” 

“Well,” Willimon continued. “The preacher said I got it. And if that didn’t take, when I was about ten years old another preacher named Herbert put his hands on my head and said, in effect, ‘You’ve got the Spirit. Now use it.’ And, if that weren’t enough one night in my mid twenties when I was ordained a bishop named Tullis put his hands on my head, ‘you’ve got the Spirit, now get out there and preach the gospel.’ The worst thing you could say is that I don’t use the Spirit’s gifts or I don’t live by the Spirit. But you sure can’t deny I’ve got it.” 

His neighbour was baffled. So she just went back to furiously trimming her hedge, muttering under her breath, “dear Lord.”i 

Today’s the final sermon in our series “Living Under Water: Baptism as a Way of Life.” Last week we talked about baptism as “bodying,” as our official entry into the church, the Body of Christ. This week’s theme is “gifting.” Specifically, the gifting of the Holy Spirit, the creative, life-giving power of God. 

Our particular branch of the Christian tradition believes that baptism is a unique coming of the Holy Spirit in our lives. In the gospels we’re told that the Spirit descended on Jesus like a dove in his baptism. Our reading from the letter to Titus says that salvation comes unmerited, “according to [God’s] mercy, through the water of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit.” Last week, Rev. Ingrid and I laid hands on Ada and Henry Crowe, and prayed for them to be gifted with the Spirit. And we laid hands and prayed when their mom, Catherine, Stan, Alice, and Joyce renewed their baptismal vows, this time praying that the same Spirit they were gifted with in their baptisms would refresh them, and continue to be at work in them.  

To paraphrase our friend Will, in baptism, we got it. The worst thing you could say is that we don’t use the Spirit’s gifts or we don’t live by the Spirit. But you sure can’t deny we’ve got it. 

Now, how does that work, exactly? Because clearly not every baptism reflects the coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost as it’s told in the Acts of the Apostles. 

As we’re told in our reading, the Spirit touches down like a hurricane of wind, landing on each of the Apostles’ heads like tongues of flame. They’re shoved out into the street, and instantly able to speak the languages of every passerby. Boom—instant Spanish, Mandarin, Swahili. Some onlookers are genuinely interested, while others think they must be drunk. 

The Apostle Peter stands up, though, and assures them that they aren’t drunk—it’s too early for new wine, anyway. But that what’s happening is described in the Old Testament by the prophet Joel. That God’s Spirit would one day be poured out on all flesh. Men, women, young and old from all four corners of the earth. All would see visions, dream dreams, and prophecy. Signs in the heavens. This is that day, and this is that final age of God’s salvation. The Spirit’s on the loose and it’s hitting like a bomb! 

I don’t know about you. But last week I didn’t feel the gust of wind. I didn’t feel the singe of fire. As far as I know, neither Ada nor Henry came away speaking Mohawk or Arabic. And Alice and Stan didn’t appear drunk at all. No portents in the sky, no ecstatic speech. Kind of a let down, if you ask me. 

I’m kidding of course. But only partially. Because I think that when we hear “Holy Spirit” we think high-octane, life-changing, ecstatic experiences. Which there are—no doubt about it. As the old African-American spiritual says, “there are strange things happenin’ ev’ry day.”  

But as we’ve said before that baptism isn’t simply a magic charm. It doesn’t fix us, or make God work in us. It’s not our monopoly on God’s favour, either. But it’s also not just an empty ritual. No, we believe that baptism is a sign, a seal, that carries God’s promises to us. Which is to say that baptism is a “means of grace.” In the same way we hear God’s promises in scripture, in the same way we taste God’s promises in Holy Communion, God’s promises are poured out on us in water. Baptism is a concrete event in space and time, that we return to over and over again, one God uses to build faith in us. That helps us to believe in God’s promises. 

And one of the promises we’re given in baptism is that we are not alone. We are not loved on account of our merit. We do not live by our own strength, nor to we face the world or it’s troubles on our own. The promise is that God is with us, and God is for us. And not only that God is with us, and for us. But God is at work in us, and through us. And among us in the church, brining strength, courage, and consolation by the power of the Holy Spirit.  

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., the great African-American civil rights leader and activist tells the story of an hour of deep despair in the early years of his leadership in helping to desegregate the American south. He was receiving constant calls threatening to bomb his home. He feared for his wife and his new baby daughter, and wondered if the struggle would be worth it if it meant these people who he loved would suffer or be killed on account of it. The thought of what might happen to him and his family kept him awake. 

One night when he was wandering the house, unable to sleep he went down to the kitchen and he made himself a cup of coffee. Sipping it at the kitchen table he poured out his fears, doubts and despairs to God. 

“At that moment,” he said, cup in hand. “At that moment I experienced the presence of the divine as I had never before experienced him. It seemed as though I could hear the quiet assurance of an inner voice, saying, “Stand up for righteousness, stand up for truth. God will be at your side forever.’”ii And he was able to, in spite of his fears and doubts. Until the day he was gunned down. 

Now clearly this was the Holy Spirit at work in Dr. King. But this experience with the Holy Spirit was just a confirmation of the promise given to him in his baptism. Of course, you might not be needing the courage to face down firehoses, guard dogs or threats of assassination by the Ku Klux Klan. Your struggles and fears and anxieties may pale in comparison. But the promise is for you as much as it was for him.  

The same Spirit that was poured out on Martin Luther King, dear brothers and sisters, is the same Spirit poured out on you. Because God is with us, we can trust that we will find comfort in our afflictions, and consolation for our broken hearts. Because God is with us, we can be confident in wisdom in tunes if worry, and courage when our backs are up against the wall. Because God is with us, we will find strength in our weakness, and justice for the oppressed. And that the right Words will be spoken at the right time and the right place. 

Because the same spark that kindled the big bang is right here, has taken up residence right here in you and me. That’s the promise given in baptism.  

So, every time you wash your face. Every time you chase your kids with the hose. Every time you rinse your dentures in a jar or hear the splash on Sunday here when the font is filled. Remember that you are not alone… God is with you, and for you, at work in you and through you. Though you may not always use the gifts of the Spirit or live in the Spirit, in baptism, there’s no denying you’ve got it. 

And for this, thanks be to God. 

AMEN.