Greeting from Rev. Mandy Sloan McDow, Senior Minister of Los Angeles First United Methodist Church
Today is a heavy day.
Today is one that brings me to you, shaking. It's not because I'm scared. It's because I'm beyond outraged, and I feel helpless.
Maybe like many of you I feel the burden of responsibility to have done something more to address the sins of white supremacy and racism before now. I feel complicit in a system that is broken because we built it that way. Today our Pentecost energy is one of fire. As we prepare for this, I hope that we are able to celebrate it in all of the emotional ways we're able, because this one will be hard.
But, it will also be beautiful. In the last few days, we have seen the ways in which the world is responding to injustice. My friends, it's about time. As the fires burn, the world is about to turn into something new. On Monday, the world watched a man as he was murdered by four officers in the Minneapolis Police Department. We witnessed as his murder was not considered murder, and the culprits walked free for days. And, the world has cried out for justice.
But, the protests and the cries aren’t just about George Floyd, or Breonna Taylor, or Ahmaud Arbery. The revolution happening now isn't about one incident. Or three incidents. Tony McDade, a black trans man, was shot and killed by police in Tallahassee, FL on Wednesday. It’s not about a dozen incidents. It's about thousands. Thousands of Black people have been murdered in police custody, gunned down while innocent, and brutalized by the criminal justice system as an institutionalized form of slavery. And, we have watched as our country, and countries around the world, have responded with outrage.
I believe that there is a difference between anger and righteous indignation. Jesus tells us in Matthew 5:21-22 that, “‘You shall not murder;’ and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgement.’ But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgement.” Jesus teaches us that anger is the root cause of violent action. Righteous indignation is the burning feeling of injustice that propels one to action. These protest are being fueled by centuries of righteous indignation at the way Black people have been treated. These protests are the outcry that something is very wrong, and we have to fix it.
There was a restaurant owner in Minneapolis, MN, whose establishment was burned to the ground on Thursday. The owner's response was, "Let my building burn. Justice needs to be served, put those officers in jail."
This Pentecost, I don't need to invite the Holy Spirit to guide us; She's already here. She showed up early.
So, today we welcome her as a rowdy, wild preacher. The Holy Spirit is a lot of things. She's an advocate, a comforter; She is a tongue of fire. And, today, we need her to be all of that. I invite you to center yourselves this morning as we prepare to welcome and receive the wild, untamed gift of the Holy Spirit.
Sermon: Acts 2:1-21, NRSV
Today is Pentecost. This is the day, 50 days after Easter, when the Apostles gathered in one place. They had gathered after Jesus had been crucified, resurrected, and had ascended. Jesus had been with them, died, risen, and now was gone again. I can't imagine the emotional whiplash of what it would be like to know that your beloved wasn't dead, but alive, and yet still not with you.
It changes everything when you know that death isn't the last thing. As a result, the Apostles were living, and working, and moving and being in a time that had - much like now - no rules. Everything was being redefined. They had gathered together to worship and pray, because they were among the few people who shared an understanding of what now was at stake. When death isn't the end anymore, how do you change how you live?
So, they prayed.
And, they worshipped.
And, they gathered.
And, they ate.
And, they were together, because they could be with people who understood. “When the day of Pentecost had come…”
Pentecost has its root in the word for 50; there was a festival 50 days after Passover. This was a high holy day.
"They were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability."
Before we can contend with this scene, we have to acknowledge our own role as hearers. It’s difficult for us to understand the chaos of the Pentecost event.
We have designed our entire way of being around comfort. We do so because everybody wants to be comforted. And, of course, there is nothing inherently wrong with this. We want to live in a place that is comfortable, we want to be safe in our homes, we want to work in a place that is comfortable, (ideally one that draws on our gifts, that challenges us and pushes us). But, ultimately, where we feel we can thrive. Comfort is not a bad thing.
We have also organized our worship in a way that is comfortable. I appreciate how courageous you are, because our typical church experience is not comfortable. It is, mostly, uncomfortable, and much harder to worship in a parking lot. It is a sign of your faithfulness that you believe so much, not only in your own discipleship, but in our congregation that you make the choice to worship in a place that is uncomfortable. It tells me something about who you are as people, and as Christians.
It is true, however, that most of us run the risk of worshipping our comfort. We run the risk of organizing our life around what's comfortable, as opposed to organizing it around what is right. I am just as guilty because, like most people, I like being comfortable.
But, can you imagine gathering together in a quiet place to worship and to pray and suddenly, from Heaven, there was the sound like the rush of a violent wind? If you have ever experienced a tornado or a hurricane, winds like these are deafening and terrifying. Experiencing the rush of a violent wind is not comfortable!
As Christians, we risk worshipping our comfort because when we retreat to the Bible, we typically choose to read it with lenses of comfort. Of course we do. We read the Bible because we want to feel closer to God. We read the Bible because we want to feel comforted in our grief. We read the Bible because we want to deepen our faith. We read the Bible because we want answers. And, sometimes, we find them! We read Psalm 23 because it comforts us when we need it the most.
Take heart, beloved: reading the Bible for comfort is certainly valuable. Your comfort is valuable. But, it is not sacred. And it is not what we worship.
I know how many times I have gathered my resolve, climbed into the pulpit, taken a deep breath, and then proceeded to say what would be comfortable and palatable to my congregation. But, today is not a day for comfort.
Even thought scripture gives us language about the Holy Spirit being a comforter, and an advocate, today we get the language that she shows up like a tornado. She is violent. She is destructive.
I don't like hearing that because I need Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit to show up in a way that doesn't scare me to death, but I think we're past that. This isn’t about what we can tolerate. This is about what we need to hear.
Sometimes, the Holy Spirit shows up
Taps you on the shoulder
And asks you to dance.
You say yes to her. You let her lead.
Because she will push you,
and she will move you,
she will bend you,
but I promise she will not break you.
The Holy Spirit shows up to change you.
And, sometimes She shows up like a destructive wind with tongues of fire.
I can't help but look at the news this week and see a lot of correlation between our Pentecost text and what's happening right now.
There are ways in which this outcry of emotion have been bastardized and used for harm. But, if you watch the protestors themselves, their righteous indignation comes from a place of longing for peace. Their voices are yelling for justice.
Every time we quote the prophet Amos, "Let justice roll down like a mighty water and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." Did it not occur to us that a flood is going to tear things up? When we prayed for justice and righteousness to pour upon us, were we prepared for the tsunami floods to rage through our cities?
What we prayed for was destructive. Because, then and only then can we choose to rebuild from the rubble the only thing that matters: a system that isn't broken from the start.
Friends, we have a choice right now. The Holy Spirit has tapped us on the shoulder and she has asked us to dance. I hope you're ready, because she's going to lead, and I don't know exactly where she's going to take us, but I'm willing to follow her.
I believe that this is the unexpected answer to our prayer for justice. We didn't factor in how uncomfortable it was going to make us. How guilty we were going to feel, how complicit we are with the problem.
As a white person, my privilege is knit into my bones. This week, I had to stare my racism in the face and stop pretending that I was generations removed from the problem. Because I’m not. No white American is.
Black Americans have been trying to tell us for years that the system was broken, and we did nothing to change it. But, now we have a chance, because if there is one thing we know from the Gospel, it's that grace is a gift. We did nothing to earn it, and we do nothing to keep it. And yet, we get it anyway.
Jesus reminds us that it’s never too late to ask for forgiveness, to repent, to turn away from our wrongs, and to embrace what is right.
In this Pentecost scene, when the violent wind shows up, and tongues of fire appear, everyone starts talking in different languages. This causes a commotion, and a crowd of “devout Jews from every nation” who lived in Jerusalem began to gather. They were, understandably, confused: "Aren't these speaking Galileans? Aren't they all from the same place? So, how is it that we, each of us hear, in our own language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power!"
Can you imagine what this must have been like? To have heard one’s native language in a foreign land would have been suprising and, yet, comforting.
And, isn’t this, in some small way, what’s happening now? Philadelphians, Minnesotans, residents of Salt Lake City, Las Vegas, Birmingham, and Richmond, Baltimore, Seattle and Portland, Washington DC, New York City, Los Angeles, Ferguson, Oakland, Atlanta - aren't all of us speaking the same language now?
It's the language we have learned over time. It is the language that we have studied, and heard, and embedded in our hearts. It is the language of the prophets, except we were too scared to listen.
And, now, it's coming out of our own mouths. Never in my life have I seen reporters tell a story that about the interconnectedness of social justice into politics like this. I watched as CNN broadcasted Don Lemon's op-ed with the headline: America has two viruses: COVID-19 and Racism. We are all speaking the same language: America was is sick, and white supremacy is the diagnosis.
It is at this point in our text when onlookers begin to ask questions, and many assume that the Apostles are drunk.
There was no preexisting condition.
There were no substances in their bodies.
The Holy Spirit showed up.
Peter, standing among the eleven, looked at his friends and he raised his voice and said, "These are not drunk as you suppose. It's only 9:00 in the morning!" This is what it looks like when the Holy Spirit shows up. This is what was spoken through the prophet Joel, Peter reminds them:
"In the last days it will be that I will pour out my spirit on all flesh. And, your sons and your daughters, your old men and your young men, they will prophecy, they will see visions, they will dream dreams. Even upon my slaves," Joel writes, "even upon my slaves, both men and women, I will pour out my spirit and they will prophecy."
What do we think is happening right now!?
What's happening is prophetic. And, we have to be courageous enough to listen.
Joel says, "I will show portents in the heavens above and signs on the earth below."
We sent two astronauts through the earth's atmosphere yesterday! The heavens cracked open in the midst of the riots.
"Blood and fire and smoky mist," as we watched our cities burn.
"The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the Lord's great and glorious day. And then, everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved."
I believe that last line is for us. Because my cries for salvation have never factored in how deeply complicit I have been with the sin of racism. I have a moral, ethical, pastoral, and theological responsibility to acknowledge it, and work as hard as I can to listen to Black voices so that, together, we can fix it.
And, I will do it badly. I will do it wrong. I will take missteps. I will overstate and underperform. And yet, I'm going to try and keep trying. I will resource myself, and I'm going to resource you. We can build the world back, and we can build it back in a way that leads to racial equity.
Black lives matter.
Black lives matter.
BLACK LIVES MATTER.
Church, it’s time for us to build a world in which this is so beautifully evident that when we shout “BLACK LIVES MATTER,” it's a celebration, not a demand.
We were all created in the beloved image of God. All of us, each of us, every one of us.
In all of our multiplicities and differences.
In all of our broken, different bodies.
Our bodies that are Black, our bodies that are brown, our bodies that are white.
No singular body is the archetype.
We were all made with these bodies, created in God’s own image.
Our bodies are God-given, and it is up to us to eliminate our lenses of judgment and see each other for who we are: Children of God. And, if we are all children of God, my friends, then we are all siblings.
That means we have a responsibility to care for all of God's beloved family. Yes, you are your sibling's keeper.
It is clear we have much to do, but it is on white people to do the work to educate ourselves on our own fragility, privilege, and complicitness before we are ready for dialogue. It is traumatizing to invite Black voices to speak in the middle of the traumatic event. White Americans: do your work. Study. Listen. Read. Watch. Don't turn away from your discomfort.
"Every system is perfectly designed to get the results it gets.”
It is clear that the system in America is broken, and it has produced devastating results because it was predicated on white supremacy and slave labor. That system only served to maintain these ideologies. The only way we can make the necessary changes in the system we are being asked to re-build is to yield the design to the very people who have been oppressed:
“Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.
Even upon my slaves, both men and women.”
Amen.
