08 June 2014

The over-flowing gift that keeps
on going on and on ... and on

The interior of All Saints’ Church, Grangegorman (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford,

Sunday 8 June 2014,

The Day of Pentecost (Whitsunday).

11.30 a.m., All Saints’ Church, Grangegorman, Dublin, Holy Communion 2.

Readings:
Acts 2: 1-21 or Numbers 11: 24-30; Psalm 104: 26-36, 37b; I Corinthians 12: 3b-13 or Acts 2: 1-21; John 20: 19-23 or John 7: 37-39.

May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

Today is the Day of Pentecost, which falls 50 days after Easter Day and 10 days after the Ascension.

This morning, as we read the story of Pentecost in the Acts of the Apostles, we are told how they gather together in an upper room, full of fear and hiding. Suddenly, a sound comes from heaven like a rushing wind, filling the entire house. Tongues of fire appear, one on each Apostle, and all are filled with the Holy Spirit (Acts 2: 1-4).

When the people in Jerusalem hear the sound, they come together and hear the Apostles speaking in their own languages (Acts 2: 5-6). Some even think the Apostles are drunk (Acts 2: 7-13). But, the story goes on later, Peter hears these remarks, stands up and speaks about the Biblical prophecies about the coming of the Holy Spirit, about Christ, his death and his resurrection (Acts 2: 38-39).

The gift of the Holy Spirit marks the beginning, the birthday, of the Church. And this is a gift that does not cease to be effective after Pentecost Day. Even if the lectern and pulpit colours are going to change from red to green, this is not a stop-go, go-stop experience for the Church. The gift of the Holy Spirit remains with the Church – and keeps the Church going for all times.

When we think of that first Pentecost, I imagine we think only of the 12 – including Matthias who had been chosen to replace Judas (Acts 1: 26).

But Pentecost was an experience for more than the 12. There too, in that upper room – and it must have been some big room – were the Virgin Mary, the women who had stayed with Christ throughout his passion and death, the women who went to the tomb on Easter morning, the immediate family of Jesus ... and many, many more (see Acts 1: 12-14). The author of the Acts of the Apostles suggest a total of 120 (see Acts 1: 15).

If the 12, who are brought up to number with Matthias immediately before Pentecost,– if the 12 represent the old Israel, then the 120 ask us to stretch our imagination, to realise that the beginning of God’s new kingdom is at least 10 times bigger than our imagination allows us to start with. And the number keeps on multiplying from 12 to 120, and from 120 to 3,000 – then initially at least 250 times bigger than we first imagine.

And it just gets bigger and bigger in numbers and in blessings after that, so that not only are people from the north, south, east and west invited into the Kingdom of God (see verses 9-11), but eventually the promise is extended to all humanity.

We are promised that the Holy Spirit is to be poured out on Jews and Gentiles, irrespective of ethnicity, language or religion; on young and old alike, irrespective of age; on male and female, irrespective of gender; indeed on all flesh, irrespective of any of our prejudices, challenging all our hidden prejudices.

The Holy Spirit is not an exclusive gift for the 12, for the inner circle, for the believers, or even for the Church.

See how many times the words all and every are used in those few paragraphs in our reading from the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 2: 1-21):

● they are all together (verse 1);
● the tongues of fire rest on each or every one of them (verse 3);
all of them are filled with the Holy Spirit (verse 4);
● the people in Jerusalem are from every nation (verse 5);
● each or everyone hears in his or her own language (verse 6);
● so that all are amazed and perplexed (verse 12);
● Peter addresses all (verse 14);
● he promises that God will pour out his Spirit on all (verse 17);
● this promise is for all without regard to gender, age or social background (verses 17-21);
● and the promise of God’s salvation is for everyone (verse 21).

God’s generosity at Pentecost is lavish, risky and abundant in its generosity.

The language is the language of overflowing and over-abundant generosity. The Holy Spirit is not measured out in tiny drops, like some prescribed medicine poured out gently and carefully, drop by drop. It’s not even like a gentle measure used for pouring out a glass of wine.

The Holy Spirit gushes out and spills out all over the place, in a way that is beyond the control of the 12, like champagne fizzing out after the cork has been popped at a party, sparkling all over the room, champagne that can never be put back into the bottle and poured out once more in polite and controlled measures.

The gift of the Holy Spirit marks the beginning, the birthday, of the Church, so perhaps champagne is the right image to use as we are celebrating the birthday of the Church. But this is a gift that does not cease to be effective after the Day of Pentecost.

The gift of the Holy Spirit remains with the Church – for all times. The gift of the Holy Spirit is for all who are baptised, who are invited to continue daily to hear the word, to join in fellowship, to break the bread, to pray – just as we are doing at this Eucharist this morning (Acts 2: 42-47).

At Pentecost, we see the fulfilment of the promise of the Holy Spirit given by the Risen Christ. Because of that gift at Pentecost, the Church is brought together in diversity and sustained in unity through the presence and work of the Holy Spirit. In the Orthodox Church, they speak of the Church as the realised or lived Pentecost.

This is the Holy Spirit who is to guide the Church in our missionary endeavours – not just throughout the world, but here in this diocese, in this parish, in inner city Dublin too.

This is the Holy Spirit who nurtures the Body of Christ, the Church, in truth and in love.

And yet, most people probably think of the Holy Spirit as some invisible appendix of God the Father and God the Son, something for Pentecost; perhaps, we think of the gifts given at confirmation. But we do not talk easily about the Holy Spirit; we fear, perhaps, that someone might think we are too enthusiastic about Christianity, about religion.

Evie Hone’s window in Saint Patrick’s Church on the Hill of Tara, Co Meath, has images of Pentecost interspersed with images of Saint Patrick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Our thinking about the Holy Spirit is more difficult, is constricted, because of the images of the Holy Spirit in traditional Christian art: a dove in paintings and stained-glass windows that looks more like a homing pigeon; or tongues of fire dancing around meekly-bowed heads of people cowering and hiding in that upper room in Jerusalem, rather than a room that is bursting at the seams and ready to overflow.

We think, perhaps, that it is best to leave thinking about the Holy Spirit to this day, the Day of Pentecost, or to a once-a-year Confirmation service, and let the rest of us get on for the rest of the year with God simply being God the Father or God the Son.

But the Holy Spirit is not something added on as an extra course, as an after-thought after the Resurrection and Ascension.

When it comes to the point in the Nicene Creed this morning where we say “We believe in the Holy Spirit,” do we really believe in the Holy Spirit as “the Lord, the giver of life,” in the Holy Spirit as the way in which God “has spoken through the prophets”?

The gift of the Holy Spirit does not stop being effective the day after confirmation, the day after ordination, the day after hearing someone speaking in tongues, or the day after the Day of Pentecost.

God never leaves us alone. This is what Christ promises the disciples, the whole Church, in our Gospel reading this morning. We need have no fears, for the Resurrection breaks through all the barriers of time and space, of gender and race, of language and colour.

And as a sign of this, Christ promises the gift of the Holy Spirit and says: “Peace be with you.”

If you have received the gift of the Holy Spirit, the gift at your Confirmation, the gift that we all receive as the Church at Pentecost, how then do you let others know? How do I share that peace? Can I truly forgive others as Christ forgives me?

If the Holy Spirit is the Advocate and is living in me, then who am I an advocate for? Who do I speak up for when there is no-one else to speak up for them?

I have no doubts that the Holy Spirit works in so many ways that we cannot understand. And no doubts that the Holy Spirit works best and works most often in the quiet small ways rather than in the big dramatic ways.

Sometimes, even when it seems foolish, sometimes, even when it seems extravagant, it is worth being led by the Holy Spirit. Because the Holy Spirit may be leading us to surprising places, and, surprisingly, leading others to be there too, counting them in when we thought they were counted out.

And so may all we think, say, and do, be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen.

Collect:

Almighty God,
who on the day of Pentecost
sent your Holy Spirit to the apostles
with the wind from heaven and in tongues of flame,
filling them with joy and boldness to preach the gospel:
By the power of the same Spirit
strengthen us to witness to your truth
and to draw everyone to the fire of your love;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Post Communion Prayer:

Faithful God,
who fulfilled the promises of Easter
by sending us your Holy Spirit
and opening to every race and nation the way of life eternal:
Open our lips by your Spirit,
that every tongue may tell of your glory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral Dublin. This sermon was preached at the Parish Eucharist in All Saints’ Church, Grangegorman, Dublin, on the Day of Pentecost, 8 June 2014.

Addition and multiplication ... according
to the calculations of the Holy Spirit

Saint Michan’s Church, Church Street, Dublin ... the gift of the Holy Spirit remains with the Church – and keeps the Church going for all times (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford,

Sunday 8 June 2014,

The Day of Pentecost (Whitsunday).

10 a.m., Saint Michan’s Church, Church Street, Dublin, Holy Communion 2.

Readings:
Acts 2: 1-21 or Numbers 11: 24-30; Psalm 104: 26-36, 37b; I Corinthians 12: 3b-13 or Acts 2: 1-21; John 20: 19-23 or John 7: 37-39.

May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

Today is the Day of Pentecost, which falls 50 days after Easter Day and 10 days after the Ascension.

This morning, as we read the story of Pentecost in the Acts of the Apostles, we are told how they gather together in an upper room, full of fear and hiding. Suddenly, a sound comes from heaven like a rushing wind, filling the entire house. Tongues of fire appear, one on each Apostle, and all are filled with the Holy Spirit (Acts 2: 1-4).

When the people in Jerusalem hear the sound, they come together and hear the Apostles speaking in their own languages (Acts 2: 5-6). Some even think the Apostles are drunk (Acts 2: 7-13). But, the story goes on later, Peter hears these remarks, stands up and speaks about the Biblical prophecies about the coming of the Holy Spirit, about Christ, his death and his resurrection (Acts 2: 38-39).

The gift of the Holy Spirit marks the beginning, the birthday, of the Church. And this is a gift that does not cease to be effective after Pentecost Day. Even if the lectern and pulpit colours are going to change from red to green, this is not a stop-go, go-stop experience for the Church. The gift of the Holy Spirit remains with the Church – and keeps the Church going for all times.

When we think of that first Pentecost, I imagine we think only of the 12 – including Matthias who had been chosen to replace Judas (Acts 1: 26).

But Pentecost was an experience for more than the 12. There too, in that upper room – and it must have been some big room – were the Virgin Mary, the women who had stayed with Christ throughout his passion and death, the women who went to the tomb on Easter morning, the immediate family of Jesus ... and many, many more (see Acts 1: 12-14). The author of the Acts of the Apostles suggest a total of 120 (see Acts 1: 15).

If the 12, who are brought up to number with Matthias immediately before Pentecost,– if the 12 represent the old Israel, then the 120 ask us to stretch our imagination, to realise that the beginning of God’s new kingdom is at least 10 times bigger than our imagination allows us to start with. And the number keeps on multiplying from 12 to 120, and from 120 to 3,000 – then initially at least 250 times bigger than we first imagine.

And it just gets bigger and bigger in numbers and in blessings after that, so that not only are people from the north, south, east and west invited into the Kingdom of God (see verses 9-11), but eventually the promise is extended to all humanity.

We are promised that the Holy Spirit is to be poured out on Jews and Gentiles, irrespective of ethnicity, language or religion; on young and old alike, irrespective of age; on male and female, irrespective of gender; indeed on all flesh, irrespective of any of our prejudices, challenging all our hidden prejudices.

The Holy Spirit is not an exclusive gift for the 12, for the inner circle, for the believers, or even for the Church.

See how many times the words all and every are used in those few paragraphs in our reading from the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 2: 1-21):

● they are all together (verse 1);
● the tongues of fire rest on each or every one of them (verse 3);
all of them are filled with the Holy Spirit (verse 4);
● the people in Jerusalem are from every nation (verse 5);
● each or everyone hears in his or her own language (verse 6);
● so that all are amazed and perplexed (verse 12);
● Peter addresses all (verse 14);
● he promises that God will pour out his Spirit on all (verse 17);
● this promise is for all without regard to gender, age or social background (verses 17-21);
● and the promise of God’s salvation is for everyone (verse 21).

God’s generosity at Pentecost is lavish, risky and abundant in its generosity.

The language is the language of overflowing and over-abundant generosity. The Holy Spirit is not measured out in tiny drops, like some prescribed medicine poured out gently and carefully, drop by drop. It’s not even like a gentle measure used for pouring out a glass of wine.

The Holy Spirit gushes out and spills out all over the place, in a way that is beyond the control of the 12, like champagne fizzing out after the cork has been popped at a party, sparkling all over the room, champagne that can never be put back into the bottle and poured out once more in polite and controlled measures.

The gift of the Holy Spirit marks the beginning, the birthday, of the Church, so perhaps champagne is the right image to use as we are celebrating the birthday of the Church. But this is a gift that does not cease to be effective after the Day of Pentecost.

The gift of the Holy Spirit remains with the Church – for all times. The gift of the Holy Spirit is for all who are baptised, who are invited to continue daily to hear the word, to join in fellowship, to break the bread, to pray – just as we are doing at this Eucharist this morning (Acts 2: 42-47).

At Pentecost, we see the fulfilment of the promise of the Holy Spirit given by the Risen Christ. Because of that gift at Pentecost, the Church is brought together in diversity and sustained in unity through the presence and work of the Holy Spirit. In the Orthodox Church, they speak of the Church as the realised or lived Pentecost.

This is the Holy Spirit who is to guide the Church in our missionary endeavours – not just throughout the world, but here in this diocese, in this parish, in inner city Dublin too.

This is the Holy Spirit who nurtures the Body of Christ, the Church, in truth and in love.

And yet, most people probably think of the Holy Spirit as some invisible appendix of God the Father and God the Son, something for Pentecost; perhaps, we think of the gifts given at confirmation. But we do not talk easily about the Holy Spirit; we fear, perhaps, that someone might think we are too enthusiastic about Christianity, about religion.

Evie Hone’s window in Saint Patrick’s Church on the Hill of Tara, Co Meath, has images of Pentecost interspersed with images of Saint Patrick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Our thinking about the Holy Spirit is more difficult, is constricted, because of the images of the Holy Spirit in traditional Christian art: a dove in paintings and stained-glass windows that looks more like a homing pigeon; or tongues of fire dancing around meekly-bowed heads of people cowering and hiding in that upper room in Jerusalem, rather than a room that is bursting at the seams and ready to overflow.

We think, perhaps, that it is best to leave thinking about the Holy Spirit to this day, the Day of Pentecost, or to a once-a-year Confirmation service, and let the rest of us get on for the rest of the year with God simply being God the Father or God the Son.

But the Holy Spirit is not something added on as an extra course, as an after-thought after the Resurrection and Ascension.

When it comes to the point in the Nicene Creed this morning where we say “We believe in the Holy Spirit,” do we really believe in the Holy Spirit as “the Lord, the giver of life,” in the Holy Spirit as the way in which God “has spoken through the prophets”?

The gift of the Holy Spirit does not stop being effective the day after confirmation, the day after ordination, the day after hearing someone speaking in tongues, or the day after the Day of Pentecost.

God never leaves us alone. This is what Christ promises the disciples, the whole Church, in our Gospel reading this morning. We need have no fears, for the Resurrection breaks through all the barriers of time and space, of gender and race, of language and colour.

And as a sign of this, Christ promises the gift of the Holy Spirit and says: “Peace be with you.”

If you have received the gift of the Holy Spirit, the gift at your Confirmation, the gift that we all receive as the Church at Pentecost, how then do you let others know? How do I share that peace? Can I truly forgive others as Christ forgives me?

If the Holy Spirit is the Advocate and is living in me, then who am I an advocate for? Who do I speak up for when there is no-one else to speak up for them?

I have no doubts that the Holy Spirit works in so many ways that we cannot understand. And no doubts that the Holy Spirit works best and works most often in the quiet small ways rather than in the big dramatic ways.

Sometimes, even when it seems foolish, sometimes, even when it seems extravagant, it is worth being led by the Holy Spirit. Because the Holy Spirit may be leading us to surprising places, and, surprisingly, leading others to be there too, counting them in when we thought they were counted out.

And so may all we think, say, and do, be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen.

Collect:

Almighty God,
who on the day of Pentecost
sent your Holy Spirit to the apostles
with the wind from heaven and in tongues of flame,
filling them with joy and boldness to preach the gospel:
By the power of the same Spirit
strengthen us to witness to your truth
and to draw everyone to the fire of your love;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Post Communion Prayer:

Faithful God,
who fulfilled the promises of Easter
by sending us your Holy Spirit
and opening to every race and nation the way of life eternal:
Open our lips by your Spirit,
that every tongue may tell of your glory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral Dublin. This sermon was preached at the Parish Eucharist in Saint Michan’s Church, Church Street, Dublin, on the Day of Pentecost, 8 June 2014.

A walk in the rain and the trees
in the countryside near Lichfield

Walking through trees dripping with rain off Stafford Road in Lichfield, between the Hedgehog and Featherbed Lane (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Patrick Comerford

After the warm summer sunshine that seemed to bathe all South Staffordshire, I awoke this morning to heavy rain and a thunderstorm in Lichfield.

I had a room at the front of the Hedgehog on Stafford Road, on the northern edges of Lichfield, looking out to the south across long swathes and stretches of the Staffordshire countryside. From early this morning, the rain was coming down incessantly and heavily, and the lightning seemed to light up the fields and trees for miles beyond me.

It was a beautiful weather to experience, despite this being summer. But, while the temperature soon rose to 20 or even higher, the heavy rain put paid to my plans for a morning walk in the countryside before strolling into Lichfield Cathedral for the mid-day Eucharist.

And any thoughts of joining one of the tower tours in the Cathedral were quickly jettisoned.

Looking through the trees and the rains at the spires of Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

I stayed behind in the Hedgehog, enjoying the opportunity for some unplanned reading, and ventured out into the rain once or twice for a walk in the grounds and through the trees, looking down the embankment to the west onto a rain-soaked Cross-in-Hand Lane, or catching a glimpse through the rain and clouds and must of the spires of Lichfield Cathedral and Saint Mary’s Church to the south.

As the rains eased a little, I become a little more adventurous, and headed out for a walk through the trees and by the fields alongside Stafford Road, as far as Featherbed Lane.

Looking down on Cross-in-Hand Lane from the embankment in the grounds of the Hedgehog (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

The rains had not truly ceased, however, and I was wet again by the time I got back to the Hedgehog. But three of us had a wonderful lunch together, reminiscing about friendships that have lasted for over 40 years, and about times in Lichfield and Rugeley the early 1970s.

For starters, one had beer-battered mushrooms with caramelised garlic and parsley mayonnaise, and two of us had the pear and stilton salad, with dressed leaves, Cropwell Bishop stilton and roasted pear; for our main courses we had one tomato pasta (giant fusilli pasta in a tomato and olive sauce, drizzled with English herb oil and served with garlic bread) and two Scampi Medleys (crumbed scampi and prawns, served with garden peas, tartare sauce and seasoned chips). We shared a bottle of Pinot Grigio, and finished our lunch with tea for one and two double espressos.

The entrance to Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield, this afternoon ... the chapel is very truly my spiritual birthplace (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Eventually the sun was breaking through when the time to leave came. Instead of catching a taxi to Lichfield City train station, two of us decided to walk down Beacon Street into Bird Street and the centre of Lichfield.

There was the customary stop at Saint John’s Hospital, where the chapel is very truly my spiritual birthplace, before catching the train through more countryside in South Staffordshire to Birmingham New Street and on to Birmingham International Airport for the flight to Dublin.

Travelling through the countryside in South Staffordshire this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)