Written by Rev. Dr. Hilary J. Barrett
"Waiting for Pentecost"
A sermon by the Rev. Dr. Hilary J. Barrett
Preached at Pleasantville United Church of Christ, May 29, 2011
John 14:15-21 & John 14:23-29
“I have said these
things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name,
will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.”
(John 14:25-26)
The scripture readings that we are given from the lectionary in these weeks between Easter and Pentecost lead us in a peculiar direction. Two weeks ago, we were given Psalm 23 to study. Last week and this week, we are given selections from John 14. I suspect that only pastors pay attention to this stuff, but these are funeral texts. They are passages that we hear, most often, when we are standing between life and death and proclaiming the hope of the resurrection and the comfort of God’s unwavering presence with us in life, in death, in life beyond death.
I suspect that these texts come to us now, in these weeks after Easter, to help us remember how it must have been for those early Christian disciples. They were struggling to cope with Jesus’ absence in their earthly lives in the same way that those who are grieving must learn to cope with the absence of their loved one in their daily lives. Here, on the other side of Easter, and now in the sixth week of waiting, the disciples are still in Jerusalem; still trying to figure out how to live without the earthly presence of their Lord; still trying to believe and hope that the next thing that Jesus promised would happen, in fact, come to fruition.
These words of Jesus from the 14th chapter of John’s gospel are part of a larger conversation that takes up more than three chapters. They are part of Jesus’ final conversation with his disciples at the Last Supper; his farewell address. In it, “Jesus summarizes his teachings one last time, [and]… reassures his bewildered disciples that they will not be left on their own, to fend for themselves, to rely on their own resources and their own wits.”[1] He speaks to them as one who is preparing to leave, and by it we receive some of the most enduringly beautiful words of Scripture:
”I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. (John 14:18-20)
“Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.” (John 14:23)
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” (John 14:27)
These are words that have soothed anxious Christian hearts for two thousand years.
The season of Pentecost is still two weeks away. We are six weeks into the season of Easter – a season of Resurrection joy -- but these texts remind us that Easter is also a season of uncertainty and doubt. It is a season where we live with a desperate hope that Jesus will make good on his promises: that we will not be left alone to fend for ourselves, orphaned and comfortless; that “the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send” [2] will come to us and make His home with us and teach us everything that we need to know. We need to know this as surely as Jesus’ first disciples did.
These days, between Easter and Pentecost; these days when the disciples awaited the coming of the Holy Spirit, remind us how much in our lives is out of our control; how much we wait upon the Lord for the power to continue; how much we wait upon the Lord for our spirits to be revived.
Jesus promised his disciples that a baptism of the Spirit would be coming soon. But the disciples have no way of knowing how soon. They’ve just been through the trauma of losing their friend and teacher; they’ve just been through the wild mystery of experiencing him over and over again in resurrection moments; and now – as he delivers his farewell address -- they sense very clearly that he is going to depart from their earthly presence. Their anxiety is high. And Jesus tells them to wait.
Wait.
Wait for the Paraclete -- that’s the Greek name for the Holy Spirit. Paraclete: the word actually means, “someone called alongside to help or assist."[3] And this helper is our “Advocate;” our “Counselor;” our “Intercessor;” our “Comforter." These are some of the names for the Holy Spirit. And when we think of the word “Comfort” we must remember that the word “comfort” literally means, “with strength.” So, the Paraclete is “our counselor, advocate, intercessor, comforter, strengthener” [4] and all-around helper.
“I
have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the
Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all
that I have said to you.”
What we’re really talking about here is hope. Waiting for Pentecost is waiting for hope.
The disciples are worried and anxious, and Jesus tells them to wait and to trust: the Holy Spirit will come and show you what you need to do.
When we are fearful and uncertain, Jesus tells us to wait and to trust: the Holy Spirit will come and strengthen us when we are weak and heavy-laden.
When life seems unmoored and we have lost our compass, Jesus tells us to wait and to trust: the Holy Spirit will come to us and make us feel at home with God once again.
Waiting for Pentecost is waiting for hope; and we know how important hope is.
Rabbi Hugo Gryn, was one of the most respected rabbis in Great Britain. He was born in Czechoslovakia in 1930 and, as a boy, he and his family were imprisoned in Auschwitz, where both his father and his brother were killed.
As Orthodox Jews, any observance would bring greater danger to them. But Hugo's father insisted that the Sabbath as well as the festivals be kept. Hugo remembered the time when, to observe the Sabbath, his father took a piece of string and placed it in a bit of butter to make a Shabbos candle. Watching him light it, Hugo became furious and said, “Father, that is all the butter we have!”
But his father replied, “Without food, we can live for weeks. But we cannot live for a minute without hope.”[5]
We cannot live for a minute without hope.
There are so many places in our world where the only thing keeping people alive is hope. Soldiers fighting on a front that never seems to change; that never seems to get any safer or any more stable – they are living from moment to moment on hope.
People who have lost every worldly possession in the blink of an eye, as tornados rip across the land – they are living in hope.
Those who struggle to put their lives back together after immense loss – they are living in hope.
We cannot live for a minute without it.
The seasons of the Church Year are full of holy wisdom. Six weeks into Easter, we are told to wait. Wait for the coming of the Holy Spirit. Wait for the Advocate who will be with you in all things. Wait for the One who comes “with strength” – your Comforter. Wait for the One who will make a home within you so that you will always be at peace, no matter where you are; no matter what you face; no matter what measure of challenge or pain.
The scriptures this morning promise us that Jesus will not abandon us. He will not leave us comfortless. He will not leave us as if we were orphaned.
If we are afraid, then let us wait upon the Lord and trust in the Spirit’s power to give us strength.
If we are feeling lost, let us wait upon the Lord and trust in the Spirit’s power to reveal the right path.
If we are weary and without hope, let us wait upon the Lord and trust in the Spirit’s power to revive our souls and enliven our hearts.
May it be so. Amen.