Ten days after Jesus disappears into the clouds, all that he foretold comes true. Gathered together in a room, the Spirit descends like wind and fire upon the assembly and the ability to speak in every language was granted. Aflame with God’s power, like so many human birthday candles, the church was born.
Now the listing of all those other people in Jerusalem who heard their native language spoken that morning is enough to intimidate the most accomplished reader of scripture, and I want to commend our own readers this morning on their fine work on a daunting passage. We hear these names of places and marvel at the exotic locales and thoroughness of the Spirit but we forget one thing. For all of these places named, for all of the people of different languages, geographies and customs, they were all Jewish! Some of them, as proselytes, were recent converts, but even to this point the Christian message was reserved for God’s chosen people – the Jews. So even though there were more similarities than differences between these particular people of faith, the human ability to divide and splinter off is never more pronounced.
They all claim one common identity but still were very distinct and different because of other aspects of who they are. Partly because of where they were from, the language they spoke, the jobs they had, their economic standing, there is more to them then just their religion. Just as we call ourselves Christian, we would say that we are different from the Christians who are Roman Catholic. Or Pentecostal. Or how we’re different from United Church people in Vancouver, Toronto, London, Strathroy. And even Glencoe/Appin.
Each of us here is called and claimed to one identity as a follower of Christ. But we all retain a unique quality and possess a special life story. Even the question of how we found ourselves worshipping here this particular morning is varied and valuable: is it through tradition? Being born into this community, into this church? Is it through questioning and shopping around? Or was it by trying something new and different, just once and maybe again another time?
Jesus words were coming true. The power of the spirit arrived, just as he promised. The disciples were his witnesses, just as he promised and it began in Jerusalem that morning when Peter gets up to defend his community. Peter begins his witness. He tells the truth as he experienced. Again, he did not judge, he did not argue of procedures or precedents. He told of what was actually going on that morning. They were not drunk; they were connecting to what was previously foretold by the prophet Joel: a time of great vision, of power and promise, of potential for all people.
The work of bringing God’s kingdom to earth has transferred from the resurrected and ascended Christ himself to the community of faithful. Equipped with language, personal experience and questions, given the gift of witness, they were ready to be the church. The disciples could communicate and convey the message of love and life, of resurrection and renewal.
No matter what we think of other cultures and customs, or what words we use, we remain connected to this God who loves us, knows our language, our quirks, our idioms. God can connect to us on our terms in a way that only we can understand. Our faith an be that private and personalized. But it cannot stay that way, our work is to be the translators and connectors for a world that does not know the story – to tell the people in a language they understand about a wonderful love, a compelling call and a community that cares.