June 8, 2025
Romans 8:14-17
Acts 2:1-21
Do you remember how old you were when somebody first told you that you couldn’t do something?
I don’t, actually. I certainly remember it happening, usually after I’d tried it. I had this notion, for example, that I could climb into this piece of furniture that had an intriguing big cupboard in it. I’m pretty sure it was intended for towels, but it sure looked like it had space for a curious three- or four-year-old boy.
Said three- or four-year-old boy had not thought that the cabinet was built to sit pretty flat, with all the weight within its sides, so adding the weight of a three- or four-year-old boy to one side might just cause it to lose its balance. Actually, did cause it to fall over, trapping said three- or four-year-old boy inside the intriguing big cupboard in the middle after creating a terrible crash.
I survived.
My parents also told me that I couldn’t do that. Or that I shouldn’t. Ever. Again.
Some of the things we’re told not to do are for our safety. We’re told not to drive 80 miles an hour through those big turns in the gulches along the Hamakua Coast. Good, say I. We’re told not to cross the barriers along the cliffs of Kaluapele, the summit caldera of Kilauea. I’m happy with that. We’re told not to go swimming for a full hour after a meal to avoid cramps. Well, that’s a bit of a legend, but I’m willing to relax for a bit before taking on the waves again.
People tell us, “No,” to keep us safe.
Except for the times they tell us, “No,” to keep us limited.
About one hundred and twenty of Jesus’ disciples had stayed in Jerusalem after his resurrection, according to Luke’s Gospel and his sequel, Acts of the Apostles. I like to call “Acts” a sequel. It makes me feel that Luke should have ended the Gospel with something like: “Coming soon from this author: the exciting tale of how Jesus’ frightened followers faced the faith and found their fearlessness. Look for it in a bookstore near you!”
We don’t have names for all of the one hundred and twenty. Luke identified the eleven of Jesus’ inner circle of followers, and described the selection of Matthias to replace the betrayer Judas Iscariot and bring the number to twelve again. Luke wrote that there were “certain women” among them, one of whom was Mary, Jesus’ mother. His brothers had joined the group, too.
Then came Pentecost.
Jeremy L. Williams writes at Working Preacher, “Shavuot or ‘The Festival of Weeks’ occurs seven weeks after Passover and begins on the fiftieth day after, hence its Greek name Pentecost. This is one of the three festivals for which some Jewish people would make pilgrimage to Jerusalem (the other two are Passover and the Feast of Booths/Tabernacles). Pentecost is a harvest festival where families bring the first fruits of their harvest in anticipation of God blessing the remainder of the harvest (Exodus 23:16; Deuteronomy 26:5-11). This made Pentecost already symbolically rich for imagining the beginning of a bountiful ingathering, but in Acts’ case what was reaped was not produce, but people.”
Let’s face it, Jesus’ followers had heard a lot of “You can’t do this,” recently. Jesus’ debates in the Temple during the last week of his life had included a lot of “Don’t you dare”s from the people in power. The fact that they scattered to the four winds the night Jesus was arrested reveals that they recognized the danger they were in – kind of the ultimate, “You can’t do this.” The resurrection had certainly changed things, but how much? What were the risks? What kind of power might be with them? Jesus had told them the Holy Spirit would be given to them, but what did that mean? They didn’t know.
They got together in a house that Shavuot, that Pentecost, but they wouldn’t stay there. As Margaret Aymer writes at Working Preacher, “The Holy Spirit proves not to be a quiet, heavenly dove but, rather, a violent force that blows the church into being (Acts 2:41–47). That church consists mainly of immigrants, people of different languages and cultures with different mother tongues (Acts 2:5, 9–12, 14). To these, the message goes forth: a message of the coming of the day of the Lord, full of heavenly portents and prophetic women, slaves, and men.”
They’d been told not to get people excited. They’d been told not to make a noise. They’d been told not to make waves.
If the Holy Spirit had been told that, the Holy Spirit ignored it.
Who told you that you couldn’t do something? Why? Did they say, “You can’t do this because: You’re too young. You’re too old. You’re too female. You’re too Micronesian. You’re too Japanese. You’re too Hawaiian. You’re too gay. You’re too not-what-we-expect-when-we-think-of-someone-in-this-position.”
You can’t. Go away. Hole up with a hundred and twenty others in a house and keep quiet. That’s nice.
The Holy Spirit doesn’t care about any of that.
On that Pentecost Day, the Holy Spirit drove them out of the house. The Holy Spirit filled them with so many words that they had to speak them. The Holy Spirit decided that one or two languages wasn’t enough. Hebrew or Aramaic? Great. Greek? A nice addition. Enough? Not even close. Brush up your Parthian, there. How about Persian? Egyptian? Go for it. Arabic? Good call.
“In our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.”
If you didn’t want to speak to those foreigners, if you didn’t want them in your city, if you didn’t think they were interested, well, too bad. The Holy Spirit doesn’t care about any of that. Put up all the travel bans you want. Be as cruel to fearful people fleeing violence as you want. The Holy Spirit doesn’t care.
The Holy Spirit will speak God’s deeds of power.
What kind of people will speak them? Sons and daughters – good grief, we’ll be listening to women now? Young men haven’t gained any wisdom; but we’ve got to listen to them? Old men ramble, we all know that. But now they’re going to prophesy? And slaves – slaves? Really? The lowest of the low? The Holy Spirit will speak through them?
All flesh, declared the Spirit through the prophet Joel. All flesh, and the Holy Spirit means it.
You can decide that a Navy ship shouldn’t honor a gay Navy veteran assassinated for being gay. You can decide that a Navy ship can’t honor a woman who led slaves to freedom with the code name, “Moses.” You can decide that women shouldn’t have senior positions in law enforcement.
You can decide that women shouldn’t pastor churches. You can decide that gay people aren’t welcome in a church. You can decide all sorts of things.
The Holy Spirit will ignore all that.
The Holy Spirit will speak God’s deeds of power.
The Holy Spirit will bring dreams and visions, and these will be dreams and visions of a world saved, not a world damned by greed, division, prejudice, and selfish pride. The Holy Spirit will come to those at the margins of society, and it will come regardless of gender or age. The Holy Spirit doesn’t care about the barriers human beings so carefully create to lift some up and keep many down.
The Holy Spirit will come to you.
That might be the most astonishing thing of all, because I imagine that a few people, possibly more than a few people, have told you it can’t. You’re not holy enough, right? Or possibly too young, or possibly too old, yes? Did somebody tell you that only a select few receive the Holy Spirit, and that you’re not special enough to be one of those? Did somebody tell you that being female, or gay, or male, or from wherever your ancestors were from made you ineligible?
Guess what? Whoever told you that, and however many people told you that, they were wrong. The Holy Spirit comes to all flesh, and none of those things bother the Spirit in the least.
Or was it you? Did you tell yourself that you weren’t worthy somehow? I’m a sinner. I’m a failure. I’m not smart enough. I’m not vocal enough. Did you come up with some reasons for the Holy Spirit to pass you by?
Guess what? None of those things bother the Spirit in the least.
For heaven’s sake, the Holy Spirit came to the guys who ran away the night Jesus was arrested. The Holy Spirit came to the one who denied knowing Jesus three times. Those things didn’t bother the Spirit in the least. Those things didn’t stop the Spirit for a moment.
Dreams and visions, friends. Dreams and visions of a better world, a richer world, a loving world.
The Holy Spirit is coming to you so that these dreams and visions might be.
Amen.
by Eric Anderson
Watch the Recorded Sermon
Pastor Eric prepares his sermons in advance, but he does make changes while preaching, sometimes intentionally.
The image is Pentecost by Jean Restout (1732) – Web Gallery of Art: Image Info about artwork, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15885407.
