Sermon — May 5, 2024

Pia Bertelli

“Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God, and everyone who loves the parent loves the child as well. By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments. For the love of God is this, that we obey his commandments.”

If there was any question over the last four weeks about what it means to be an “Easter People”, there should be no doubt now. The first time I heard this term “Easter People”, I was in a baptism class for my now 27 year old daughter. Someone asked a question and the priest, Dean Wolfe, who, by the way, is now the rector at St Bart’s in Manhattan, threw up his hands and exclaimed joyously, “We are an Easter People; a people of great hope!” It really made an impression on me and I began to say it to myself, to my churchy friends and, in turn, to embrace the idea. We are a people of great hope. Great hope for the victory of our faith in God’s love to conquer the world. How? How can that happen?

As I was trying to get an understanding of what was going on in this scripture passage, I had to draw a diagram. The words seemed to me to be going in a circle. It wasn’t linear and it didn’t stop at love. The writer of 1st John says that when we believe in Jesus we are born of God and if you love the parent, God, you love the child, not just his child Jesus, but we who are also born of God. Our love of God means we obey his commandments. We know from our reading of John 15, that commandment is to love one another, the other children of God. And in the middle, is the victory that conquers the world, our faith in this love. 

Herein lies the difficulty though. We learned from Greg’s sermon a couple of weeks ago we are called to an agape love, a selfless love. It is a love we would show to an adversary or someone with whom we are not necessarily familiar. This is as opposed to eros, a romantic love or filia, a brotherly, familial love. This Agape love calls us to action. As Michael pointed to in his Boondoggle sermon, when we are called as Children of God, we are set on a new path. Changed metaphysically, beyond what is perceptible to those around us. Obedience to God doesn’t mean our lives will avoid struggle. In fact, it may often mean we will choose a difficult path. It is a mindset. Julian of Norwich called it the via positiva, the positive way. It is an attitude. It doesn’t mean we make light of our struggles, but with the power of the Holy Spirit we can prevail through adversity.

The Holy Spirit…Ruach in Hebrew. In both our Old Testament and New Testament, Ruach is translated into several English words – wind, breath, wisdom. This is not to turn the Holy Spirit into a natural force, but to help our limited human minds to begin to grasp the power of God. The Holy Spirit is wind; it is movement. The Holy Spirit is breath; it is life. The Holy Spirit is wisdom; it is charism, a gift endowed by the Holy Spirit. 

Ruach was working overtime in Acts. This week we read about the third in a series of visions Peter has in addition to Cornelius’. Earlier in Chapter ten, Cornelius, a centurion, a man who lives worshipfully, was always helping people in need and had the habit of prayer, has a vision to go fetch Peter. He sends two men to Joppa to fetch Peter, who he knows from the vision is staying with Simon the Tanner. As the men are approaching, Peter is up on the balcony praying. It is lunch time. He’s hungry and thinking of food. He falls into a trance and has a vision of a blanket being lowered down by four ropes with every kind of animal, reptile and bird on it. Then he hears a voice saying, “Get up, Peter.  Kill and eat.” Peter exclaims that he has never eaten unclean food. The voice tells him that he should not call anything impure that God has made clean. This happens three times before the blanket is lifted back up to the sky. 

While Peter is puzzling out the meaning of this vision, Cornelius’ men knock on the door. The Spirit tells him to go downstairs. There are three men looking for him and he should not hesitate to go with them. Peter goes and opens the door. The men tell Peter that a holy angel commanded Cornelius to get him so they could hear what he had to say. He invites them in, makes them feel at home and the next day Peter, his Jewish friends and the travelers set off for Caesarea. When they arrive Cornelius is expecting them. Peter makes it clear that it is highly unusual for a Jew to visit a Gentile, but also acknowledges that God has led him here. Cornelius and his household are ready to listen and Peter explodes with the good news of Jesus and forgiveness! 

While Peter is still speaking, the holy spirit interrupts him, descends upon them and the gift of the Holy Spirit is poured out on them. It has proceeded from the Father and the Son and been poured out on them. Imagine yourself as an empty vessel being filled by Ruach. They are speaking in tongues and praising God. Peter finally realizes that the Gentiles, these unclean people, are like the unclean food being offered to him in his vision. Like the unclean food God has given him to satisfy his hunger, the uncircumcised Gentiles in the crowd who, having had the Holy Spirit working in their lives, are now clean and want to be baptized.    

In this scripture, we see the Holy Spirit interrupting Peter’s sermon. A point needs to be made. The gospel is proclaimed to and heard by everyone there, including those outside the Jewish circle, Peter says, “Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?” And note, he is speaking to his brothers from Joppa; he is not alone on his mission. Peter’s rhetorical statement exclaims God’s acceptance. Peter embodies the gospel of inclusion. Love one another, Agape love. Here we learn about God’s character and his mission for the church. There is a new understanding of salvation. God does not discriminate.

Keeping people out, setting boundaries reinforces our identities – not God’s. I remember hearing a sermon on radical welcome by the Reverend Stephanie Spellers, who was previously in our diocese and is now Canon to the Presiding Bishop for Evangelism, Reconciliation, and Creation Care and is also, coincidentally, an Assisting Priest at St Bart’s in Manhattan. She spoke about how the church must change to be more inclusive. She spoke of a church in I think maybe Southern California, it might have been New York City. I think I had my hands up on my ears and was saying “nah nah nah” so I didn’t hear, because she was telling us about a church where they mamboed up the aisle as they lined up for communion. “Good God,” I said to myself. “This is the Episcopal Church. Have some dignity.” And then, in a tiny part of my ADHD brain, the Mambo scene from Leonard Bernstein’s West Side Story played and I wondered what that might be like to joyously dance my way up the aisle to take the Eucharist. I tried to convince Douglas to work in a Latin rhythm here, but he wouldn’t indulge me.

In all seriousness, whether or not to let uncircumcised men into the community of believers was a seminal question of the day. Changing the idea of who gets let in shapes the community of believers. Listening to God when God speaks to us through our prayer, visions or synchronistic moments, brings us closer to God’s vision for the church. The message you need to hear may come through the uncircumcised one challenging your prejudices and expectations. The Holy Spirit is disruptive. Be prepared; expect it.

I left copies of the poem, “Go to the Limits of Your Longing” by Rainer Maria Rilke in all of the pews. For me it is about listening to God, and the action we are called to undertake. The flame is terrifying, yet there is a shadow in which we can move where we can hear God saying, “Give me your hand.”  And when you are pushed to your limit of loving, with the communion of your brothers and sisters in Christ and with the power of the Holy Spirit, throw up your hands and exclaim joyously, “We are an Easter People; a people of great hope!”