Pentecost
“…As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” (John 20:21)
At the turn of the last century, a little girl was visiting her grandmother in a small rural town in the south. They attended a very emotional religious service in a “Pentecostal” church, where people expressed their feelings by jumping about and shouting.
The little girl asked her grandmother if all the jumping meant the Holy Spirit was really there. Her grandmother said, ‘Honey, it don’t matter how high they jump up, it’s what they do when they come down that’ll tell you if it’s the real thing.
In today’s gospel from John, it’s Easter Sunday evening and the risen Lord appears to the disciples who are huddled together behind closed doors in the upper room. Still fearful and confused about what happened on Good Friday, upon seeing him, they’re “filled with joy.” He says to them, “Peace be with you. As the Father sent me, so am I sending you.” From that moment on, what had been his mission in the world becomes their mission.
Forty days later, before ascending to his Father in heaven, the risen Jesus again makes an appearance and tells them: “John baptized with water, but within a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.” Ten days later, during the Jewish feast of Pentecost, as described in today’s first reading from Acts, a mighty wind sweeps through the room shaking the rafters; tongues of fire appear, part and come to rest on each of their heads, and they are filled with the Holy Spirit . Having been commissioned for discipleship on Easter Sunday evening, now they are empowered for discipleship. Immediately, they and thousands of pilgrims in Jerusalem from foreign lands, who speak different languages, begin to understand each other in a new language of love. And the rest, as the saying goes, is history.
Peter, who denied him three times, finds his courage and becomes a charismatic preacher and fearless leader of the early church. Other disciples who abandoned him at the crucifixion also act heroically, doing things beyond their wildest dreams. Of the apostles with the exception of Judas, all but John are martyred and many more go willing to their deaths for the faith.
After Paul is converted and becomes chief theologian and missionary of the fledgling community, baptisms occur at record pace. Despite persecutions, the early church grows dramatically as believers filled with the Spirit proclaim the gospel by word and example. Then as now, what draws people to the faith is the way that believers relate to each another -- with kindness. Incredibly, a motley crew of mostly illiterate peasants, followers of an itinerant preacher crucified as a common criminal, sparks a movement that spreads across the ancient world, becoming a major religion.
Two thousand years later, the same Pentecost Spirit is alive and active in the world. The Spirit comes to each of us in the waters of baptism, descending now unnoticed, without the wind and pyrotechnics of the first time, but no less effectively. The Spirit continues to empower us to live our faith, but who is it, primarily, that shows how to live our faith? Who is it that models love of God and neighbor; who shows us concrete ways to relate with kindness? I’ll give you a hint….today is Mother’s Day.
Here’s what George Washington said about his mother: “My mother was the most beautiful woman I ever saw. All I am I owe to my mother. I attribute all my success in life to the moral, intellectual and physical education I received from her.” Abraham Lincoln spoke similarly about his: “All that I am or hope to be I owe to my angel mother.”
Those of you who’ve suffered through my homilies here at Transfiguration for the last ten years know that that’s how I feel about my mother too. One way she expressed her love was through food and cooking. Coincidently, I preached my first homily as a newly ordained deacon on May 31, 1998, Pentecost Sunday. And, although it wasn’t Mother’s Day I said this: “My mother… personified for me God’s unconditional love. She never used that term, and probably didn’t know it as such, but she lived it.”
When it comes to knowing what’s really important, mothers have a special gift. Somehow they can see beyond weird hair styles, body piercings, freshly torn jeans and smudged faces. They can look into the tearful eyes of an unhappy two-year old or the defiant eyes of a moody adolescent and see not only what is, but what can be.
When moms relate to their children in the everyday routines of life, at the dinner table, for example, they impart a sense of something bigger than here and now. They impart seeds of faith. As children watch their moms react to sadness, joy, tragedy, success and failure, they learn what it means to have faith in something beyond themselves. A mother’s gentle reassurance when things go wrong, her unfailing confidence in the face of apparent failure, her ability to trust God when life seems to be falling apart – these are responses that model faith; that give it texture and meaning. A mother, in the words of a little one, is “faith with skin on,”.
Every day presents opportunities to pass on bits of faith. Watch a sunset together and remind your child it’s God who created the sun. Use the death of a loved one to talk about heaven. Volunteer with your son or daughter at a soup kitchen. When hearts get broken or dreams shattered, remind your children that God holds the key to real happiness.
When uncertainty clouds their vision, lead them to their knees in prayer. Pray with them often and about everything. When they mess up, wrap your arms around them, gently hug confidence back into them and talk about God’s unconditional love.
How can you tell if someone is genuinely filled with the Spirit? The grandmother responding to her granddaughter’s question at the church service got it right: “Honey, it don’t matter how high they jump up, it’s what they do when they come down that’ll tell you if it’s the real thing.
Most mothers have the “real thing,” wouldn’t you say?
Anthony J. Sciolino
Acts 2:42-47;
Peter 1:3-9;
John 20:19-23.
Pentecost Sunday.
May 11, 2008. (Cycle A)