"Scattered or Spirited?"
A Sermon by the Rev. Dr. Hilary J. Barrett
Preached at Pleasantville UCC, Pentecost Sunday, May 23, 2010
(Gen. 11:1-9 & Acts 2:1-21)

The first book of the Bible is called the Book of Genesis – Genesis coming from the Greek word meaning “birth” or “origin.”  In Hebrew the book is called, “Bereishit" which means, “in the beginning.”

Genesis opens with the story of the Creation – how God created the heavens and the earth, the day and the night, the land and the water and the sky.  By the end of the story, God has created everything – sun and moon, plants and animals, every kind of growing thing, every kind of wondrous food.  And then God makes man and woman and gives them a place to live – a lush and fertile place; a garden -- full of everything they could possibly need.  And by the end of Chapter 3, we’ve already messed it up.  We get thrown out of the Garden and have to make our way in a world that isn’t quite as lush and abundant as the Garden was.

I think about the oil spill in the Gulf – 5,000 gallons a day spewing into the lush and abundant waters of the Gulf of Mexico.  It’s a wonder God puts up with us at all.

By Chapter 11, the Book of Genesis is telling the story of the Tower of Babel.  A story of how people became so prideful that they wanted to be just like God.  They thought they could do anything.  They thought that the rules and limits that applied to everything else in the world didn’t apply to them.  So they decided to build a tower that reached all the way up into the heavens. 

It was the first skyscraper, don’t you know, and they made it with their own hands.  They spent hours and hours and days and weeks and years making bricks out of mud and mortar out of tar.  Together they all worked to build this enormous tower.  And together they all lost track of what was really important. 

Eventually God came down to see what was happening, didn’t like the direction things were going[1], and confused the languages of man – which is to say, God messed them up.  Now they couldn’t communicate with each other anymore.  They had to set aside the whole Tower business and get on with the ordinary tasks of living.

Just ten chapters away from the Garden and we’ve already got ourselves enslaved making bricks.  What do we need the Egyptians for?[2]

Stories tells us so much about what’s important to people.  The stories we tell about our lives, our families, our jobs, our churches – reveal so much about what really matters to us; what makes us happy; what makes us cry; what makes us feel hopeful; what makes us wonder if there’s any reason to hope at all.

Religious stories tell us a lot too.  The Tower of Babel tells us that we have a tendency to forget who we are.  We tend to lose ourselves in projects that consume us.  We tend to forget that we are not God and sometimes we need to be reminded of that.

On the Day of Pentecost the Church tells a story that pretty much turns the Tower of Babel story on its head – and it’s a story that says a whole lot about who we are.  

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. ²And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. ³Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. ⁴All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

⁵Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. ⁶And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each.[3]

The day of Pentecost is the birthday of the Church, and the story we tell about the birthday of the Church is a story which proclaims that the differences that exist among people are not unconquerable.

You see, if the Pentecost story were simply a reversal of the Tower of Babel then the story would go like this:

On the day when the Church was born,
all of the languages of the people of the earth became one;
all of the ways that people were different disappeared;
all of the differences that existed among people were smoothed over.

But that’s not what the story says.  It says instead that:

On the day when the Church was born, by God’s grace,
the disciples learned to speak all the languages of God’s people,
so that all flesh could hear the mighty deeds of God in their own language.

That’s an important story in today’s world.  It’s a story about how to be in relationship with people who are different from us.  And it’s a story that tells us that the Church was formed so that we could be in relationship with people who are different than us – that it pleases God when – by the power of the Holy Spirit – we are given the ability to do this.

We live in a world where -- everyday – we hear stories about people who cannot make healthy connections with each another because they allow the differences between them to be insurmountable -- where people demonize one another because they come from different religions or ethnic backgrounds or political perspectives.  We live in a world where the differences between us are killing us. 

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. ²And suddenly…all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

Now that’s a story that needs to be told.

The paper cranes hanging in this Sanctuary were made by carefully folding small squares of paper -- an art form from Japan called, “origami.”  Japanese legend claims that anyone who folds one thousand paper cranes will have their heart’s desire come true.

These cranes were folded by the people of Pleasantville Church during the seasons of Lent and Easter.  The Confirmation Class strung them together and (at great peril to themselves) Dianne Clayton and Sandy Lightkep hung them to adorn our worship.  They are here to call our attention to the celebration of Pentecost Day.

After World War II the origami crane became a symbol of peace because of a young Japanese girl named Sadako Sasaki.  At the age of two, Sadako was exposed to radiation from the atomic bombing of Hiroshima.  By the time she was 12, she was dying of leukemia.

When she was in the hospital, Sadako decided to fold one thousand origami cranes so that she could win her heart’s desire – to get well from this disease.  But as the course of her illness progressed, and as she saw other children in her ward suffering with the same disease, her heart’s desire changed and she wished instead for world peace and an end to suffering.

Our own, Helga Unger, has visited the city of Hiroshima and the Hiroshima Peace Park.  There, there is a granite statue of Sadako and every year the statue is adorned with thousands of wreaths of a thousand origami cranes.  A plaque at the foot of the statue reads: 

"This is our cry. This is our prayer. Peace on Earth."

Peace on earth is still our cry and our prayer.

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. ²And suddenly…all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

The story of the Church’s birthday is a story that reminds us we were made for relationship.  May these cranes remind us that peace on earth is still our cry and our prayer.  May they remind us of the Holy Spirit, which empowers us for relationship – even with those vastly different from ourselves. 

"This is our cry. This is our prayer. Peace on Earth."

May it be so.  Amen.