The Anniversary of the Church
Sermon — May 24, 2026 (The Day of Pentecost)
The Rev. Greg Johnston
Lectionary Readings
So on Thursday afternoon, I went over to the health center for my annual physical. And after measuring my height and weight and blood pressure, after checking on my heart and lung and eyes and ears, the doctor moved on to a neurological exam. He tested whether I could feel him touch both sides of my body in roughly the same way; whether I could shrug my shoulders and flex my feet; and then came my favorite part of the exam. I want you to picture the scene: two men in their mid-thirties in an exam room: one a medical doctor, one the local parish priest. And the doctor says to the priest: “Okay, now I want you to puff your cheeks out, and I’m going to try to pop them. Don’t let me!”
What a beautifully absurd experience it is to have a human body; even the lowly cheek-puffing muscles have their own specialized test.
And then on Friday morning I drove down to New Jersey to celebrate my grandparents’ 70th wedding anniversary; which is an extraordinary achievement on more than one level. They were married when they were 19 and 24 years old, and my grandfather just celebrated his 94th birthday this week. He’s a regular listener to the recordings of these sermons, so if you’re listening to this, Grandpa, congratulations again—and I hope the rest of you will join me in giving thanks to God for the 7-decade marriage of Bill and Doris Schwint of Sparta, New Jersey.
After the party on Saturday, I drove back here so that I could celebrate another anniversary with you. Because that’s exactly what Pentecost is; not a 70th anniversary, or a 700th, but the 1,993rd anniversary of the beginning of the Church.
People sometimes celebrate Pentecost as “the birthday of the Church,” with red balloons and a birthday cake at Coffee Hour. But I like to think of it as an anniversary, instead, because what begins at Pentecost is more like a marriage than a birth. What begins at Pentecost, or what begins in a wedding ceremony, is not a new individual’s life, but a new form of common life; a way of being together that doesn’t subsume the individuals involved into one blended personality, but rather includes them in something new. In a healthy church, as in a healthy marriage, the individual identities and interests of the people involved aren’t wiped away. In fact, at their best, they’re enhanced; through the common life they share, the people entering into these relationships can grow even more fully into themselves. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts; and each one of the parts can be greater than it was before.
And this is exactly what we see at Pentecost. Faithful people from all around the world are gathered in one place in Jerusalem. They’ve come from as far away as Parthia to the east (what’s now Iran) to Rome in the west, from what’s now Turkey in the north to Egypt in the south. They come from across most of the “known world” of the ancient Mediterranean. Most of them are Jews, members of the diaspora who’ve been scattered abroad from Judea. A few are proselytes, meaning non-Jewish converts who had come to accept the monotheistic worship of God.
They aren’t all in Jerusalem by chance. They’re there to celebrate the Jewish holiday of Shavuot, known in Greek as “Pentecost,” meaning “the Fiftieth Day,” a harvest festival that falls seven weeks after Passover. So the disciples of Jesus are just one small group of pilgrims who’ve come to the Holy City for these holy days. And as they celebrate the festival, something amazing occurs: a sudden rushing wind fills the house in which they sat, and divided tongues, as of fire, appear in their midst; and flames rest on each one of their heads.
And by the power of the Holy Spirit they begin to speak in in other languages. And a crowd gathers and is amazed. These people don’t look like us. They’re dressed like Galileans, aren’t they? How is it that we hear them speaking in our own language?
And Peter explains: this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: God has poured out the Spirit on all flesh.
When people say that this is the birthday of the Church, they mean two things. First, it’s the moment when the Holy Spirit arrives; when the band of disciples gathered around Jesus becomes a group of apostles sent out by the Holy Spirit. And second, this is the moment when the Church as we know it truly begins: the one, holy, catholic Church—catholic meaning “universal,” meaning “throughout the world.” It’s the moment when the small group of disciples in Galilee becomes a global movement. And so, on Pentecost, we rightly observe the anniversary or the birthday of the foundation of the Church.
Notice one detail, though: the Holy Spirit does not come and give these pilgrims from all around the world the ability to speak the Galilean Aramaic tongue of the disciples. The Holy Spirit doesn’t compress the diversity of the early Church into one homogenous mass. It’s the other way around: the Holy Spirit gives the apostles the ability to speak in other people’s languages, so that the early Church preserves the individuality, the distinct language and culture, of each of its members. And that diversity strengthens the Church, as the good news begins to spread throughout the world.
And yet as much as the miracle of Pentecost preserves this diversity, it brings unity as well. As Paul writes to the early Christians in the Greek city of Corinth, “just as the body is one and has many members, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body—so it is with Christ.” (1 Cor. 12:12) This is exactly what Paul means. Just as you have many organs—heart and lungs and eyes and ears—but they are all part of one body—so too the Church has people who are wise, and people with knowledge (not the same thing); people of faith, and people who can heal; people who can prophesy, and people who can discern whether the prophecy is real. In the Church, there are many spiritual gifts, but all are “activated by one and the same Spirit.” (1 Cor. 12:8-11)
And you know, this is elevated rhetoric. This is serious theology. So Paul writes about wisdom and knowledge and discernment; the heart and the lungs and the brain of the operation. But if we’re talking about the “manifestation of the Spirit for the common good,” we also have to say: to one is given the ability to start the dishwasher, to another the emptying of the dishwasher; to one the entertainment of babies, to another the donation of baby clothes; to one identification of roof leaks, to another the interpretation of roof leaks.
These aren’t necessarily the most glamorous of spiritual gifts. But they are important gifts, things that are necessary to the health and flourishing of the Body of Christ. They are the shoulders and the feet and the cheek-puffing muscles of the Church, and they are “activated by one and the same Spirit” as the rest.
What the body needs is for an eye to be an eye, and an ear to be an ear, and a left ring toe to be a left ring toe. And the beauty of Pentecost, of this anniversary of the Church, is the reminder that what the Church needs from you—what God yearns for you to be—is nothing more, and nothing less, than yourself. If you’re the quiet one who comes here to pray but can’t deal with the chaos that happens on the other side of that door: what the Church needs is for you to pray. If you’re the boisterous one who comes here to laugh and chat, what the Church needs is for you to bring your joy. If you’re a singer, it’s your song. If you’re a baker, it’s your pies. If you’re too tired or sad to feel like you can give anything at all, and you just need to rest—the Holy Spirit has brought you here to rest. God doesn’t need or want you to pretend to be anyone other than exactly who you are, as you truly are. And yes, there’s growth involved in Christian life; but it’s growth into the best version of yourself, not growth into an imitation of someone else.
Jesus tells the disciples, “out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.” (John 7:38) Not “can” or “might” or “may, on occasion flow,” but “shall.” So if you believe in Jesus Christ—and let’s be honest, whatever language you may use for your faith, if you’re in church on the rainy Sunday morning of a three-day weekend then I’m gonna go ahead and call you a “believer”—if you are a believer there is a stream of living water flowing from your heart. And the question is not whether that water is flowing, it’s what that water is for you. Who are you, really? What is the stream of living water flowing from your heart? That is the gift of the Holy Spirit for you, and the question is not whether you have a gift, but how you can share it with the Church and with the world. How can you let that water flow out of your heart into a thirsty world?
