Sermon for June 8, 2025: The Entire House based upon Acts 2:1-21

Acts 2:1-21 (New International Version) The Holy Spirit Comes at Pentecost

When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them. Now there were staying in Jerusalem God-fearing Jews from every nation under heaven. When they heard this sound, a crowd came together in bewilderment, because each one heard their own language being spoken. Utterly amazed, they asked: “Aren’t all these who are speaking Galileans? Then how is it that each of us hears them in our native language? Parthians, Medes and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia,[b] Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome  (both Jews and converts to Judaism); Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!” Amazed and perplexed, they asked one another, “What does this mean?” Some, however, made fun of them and said, “They have had too much wine.”

Peter Addresses the Crowd
​
Then Peter stood up with the Eleven, raised his voice and addressed the crowd: “Fellow Jews and all of you who live in Jerusalem, let me explain this to you; listen carefully to what I say. These people are not drunk, as you suppose. It’s only nine in the morning! No, this is what was spoken by the prophet Joel: “‘In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days, and they will prophesy. I will show wonders in the heavens above and signs on the earth below, blood and fire and billows of smoke. The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and glorious day of the Lord.  And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.’

---

     I know that I’ve told this story before but I like it, so I’m going to tell it again. Rev. Dr. Fred Craddock told it first. It’s about the first church that he served as pastor. It was a small church in East Tennessee, not far from the city of Oak Ridge, which some of you may have heard of because of its connection to the atomic industry. Because the US government invested in the area to develop a nuclear program, it grew quickly, as did the small towns and rural communities around it. Lots of single people and families moved to the area. Some people even lived in tents while they worked to save enough money to get their own places, either settling in Oak Ridge or heading back home with checks in hand.

     Dr. Craddock's church was located in a community where all these new folks had moved. When he told the story first, he emphasized that this church was a lovely little church with a pump organ and kerosene lamps hung all around the walls. The congregation sat in pews that had been hand hewn from a giant poplar tree. It was a warm and inviting-feeling little church building. Dr. Craddock felt like the people in the church should be inviting some of the newcomers to help fill their lovely little building. Imagine his surprise when his congregants weren't as excited to invite new people as he was.

     He consistently heard "Oh, I don't know" and "I don't think they'd fit in here" when he raised the suggestion. Someone even objected to inviting the new folks because many of them seemed to only be there temporarily. Why spend the energy on outreach when the "construction people," as someone called them, would be leaving pretty soon. Dr. Craddock countered by encouraging the church to invite the people in and make them feel at home, even if they would only be local for a while. Craddock said that they argued round and round about it, finally, on one Sunday, saying they would vote about next steps the following week. When they sat down the next Sunday, a member of the church stood up and said, "I move that in order to be a member of this church, you must own property in the county." Someone quickly seconded it. Unfortunately, the measure passed. When the Dr. Craddock voted against the measure, he recalls being reminded that he "was just a kid preacher" and he didn't have a vote. Not long after this very inhospitable vote, Craddock left this pastorate.

     Years later, Craddock and his wife were traveling near Oak Ridge. He decided that he wanted to take her to see that church, as they weren’t yet married during that time in his life. The church ended up being difficult to find. You see, in the intervening years, the roads had changed. They eventually found their way to the little gravel road that would take them to that pretty little church with the kerosene lamps and the pump organ. As they drove down the road, he finally saw the church set back in the woods, gleaming white. Much to his surprise, the parking lot was full! He saw trucks and cars and motorcycles squeezed into every available spot.

     They drove around the building and saw that the church even had a new sign out front. The sign said, "Barbecue, all you can eat." Craddock quickly realized that the church was no longer a church. It had become a restaurant. It was packed with all kinds of people: locals, tourists, single folks, parents with little kids, construction workers, scientists, Medians, Parthians, and people from Mesopotamia. Fred looked over the crowded former sanctuary and then over at his wife, Nettie and said, "It's a good thing this is still not a church, otherwise these people couldn't be in here."

     I like this story for few reasons. For one, it mentions barbecue and I like barbecue, even though I’m not supposed to eat it anymore. I like the idea that other people can eat it though, so I’m glad these people found a good dinner. Two, it shows clearly that the Spirit of a Church matters more than look of a church. It doesn’t matter how pretty your lamps are if your people are mean. And, three, it is a reminder not to ignore opportunities for relationship when they arise. I know plenty of people who feel more welcome at barbecue joints and gay bars and books stores than churches. As a Christian, I want to listen to why they feel that way, and let that shape how I cultivate welcome at any church I’m a part of. The books of Acts is about listening to the Spirit in order to build the Body of Christ. The body of Christ, at the very least, should be as welcoming as a barbecue place.

     People talk about Pentecost as the birth of the church. If that’s true, then the church was born out of disorder, disruption, and upheaval among people who were all faithful and bewildered. All these people are together in the city for a reason. Michal Beth Dinkler reminds us in her commentary that the people are gathered for a celebration known as Pentecost, this was the end of the Jewish Festival of Weeks, which was a harvest festival. In her commentary on this text, Dr. Wil Gafney also notes that by the era in which this story would have been written, Pentecost had also become a celebration of Moses receiving the Torah, a story we know from the book of Exodus. So, the church was born in the midst of celebration of food and the relationship between God and the people.

      The people gathered in the city likely spoke Greek to each other but local dialects at home and among their most beloved people. Aramaic, Egyptian, Latin, Phrygian, and many other tongues would have filled the air in the Holy City. It is in the midst of a bustling city full of words and strangers and devotion that God appears in wind and fire. In a commentary on this text, Brian Peterson reminds us that in many Bible stories, God's presence is symbolized by wind and fire. So, we should understand the tumult before us as following God’s pattern of showing up in wild and unpredictable ways to change everything.

     The presence of the Divine is described as a violent wind that fills the house that the disciples were in. The author of Acts then describes bits of the Holy Spirit alighting and settling onto each of the disciples, looking something like divided tongues of fire. This Spirit gives the disciples the ability to speak languages that they didn't even know. The people gathered for worship were astounded. Pilgrims from all over the diaspora did not expect the people scholar Matt Skinner calls “Backwoods Galileans” to know all of these foreign languages. Some of them are amazed. Some of them assume the disciples are very drunk and getting messy in public. Peter, the apostle who had something to prove after betraying Jesus, stood up to explain what was going on as he understood it.

     As we’ve heard over the past few weeks, the Jesus movement would eventually spread beyond the Jewish community. But, that hasn’t happened yet. So, Peter addresses the people who hear the disciples as one Jewish person speaking to other Jewish people. He quotes the prophet Joel: "In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days, I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy." He then describes signs in the heavens and on earth that with help people know when God's reign of peace will break into the world.
Specifically, Peter says that at that time, when God's Reign is fully realized, everyone... all people... will have the opportunity to join God's Kin-dom. Migrant workers, townies, people who are just passing through, people who will never leave. Hondurans, Iraqis, Somalis, and French Canadians. Young, old, somewhere in between. Women, men, people in between. Enslaved and totally free... All people will be welcome and all those borders and social conventions that we have constructed to keep us separate from other humans, those walls will no longer have the power to keep someone from accessing God. In terms the church in the first part of my sermon might understand:  even if you don't own property in the county, you have a place in God's kin-dom.

     Yesterday, I sat at a very damp table at Hallowell Pride with the pastor from the UU Church in Augusta and two lay members from Old South in Hallowell. We chatted with equally damp strangers, offering them snacks, water, and stickers that said “God’s Love is Fully Inclusive” and “My God Love Everyone.”  One couple, upon snagging a couple of Marlene’s brownies, said something about our table having “food and love.” I said that that kind of describes my idea of a religious community, too. Food and love. On this Pentecost, let us remain open to the Spirit that arrives in chaos and change. May we override kneejerk reactions that lead us to feel threatened by transformation. And, in offering nourishment of all kinds, may will help God’s kin-dom come in this time and this place. Let this entire house be a place of welcome and love, and, maybe a good dinner.
​
Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
Fred Craddock, "The Softer Side of Pentecost" in The Cherry Log Sermons (Westminster John Knox Press, 2001)
Michal Beth Dinkler: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/day-of-pentecost-2/commentary-on-acts-21-21-17
Wil Gafney, "Pentecost Vigil (or Early Service)," A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year B (New York: Church Publishing Incorporated, 2023)
Brian Peterson: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1630
Matt Skinner: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2837
​