"There came a sound"-Sermon for Pentecost, Acts 2:1-21
So, Abba, the 70’s Swedish pop band, has been a big part of my life over the past year. I know that’s a strange opening line for a sermon, and I am really hoping this will all work out in the end. But…the reason Abba has been such a big deal in my life recently is that my daughter, Amelia, performed, and in the spirit of fatherly pride, I will say stared, in her high school’s production of the musical Mamma Mia this past February. And, just in case you are not a musical person…all the music in Mamma Mia, as the title might let on, is Abba. And, that’s perhaps why I thought of the following story, which I am going to try and convince you is a metaphor for the work of Holy Spirit’s…God’s own Spirit…poured into our lives at Pentecost, which we are celebrating together on this Feast Day. So…here goes…
Shortly after I had graduated from college…so still very much in my early 20’s…I went to Galveston with some friends to spend a weekend on the beach. One of the nights we were there, we went a pub in the Strand District that had been a favorite haunt of ours in college. And, in my previous visits to this particular establishment over Spring Breaks and a couple of Mardi Gras, it was a pretty traditional Irish Pub…chill vibe, live Irish music, a great place to hang and enjoy an evening with friends. Well, apparently, it had changed ownership between visits, and, when we walked in fully clad in beach attire, we discovered what I might describe as a cowboy karaoke bar…full to the brim with revelers in boots, wranglers, pearl snaps, and cowboy hats. The folk on stage were crooning to some George Straight hit…Amarillo by Morning…or the like. We immediately felt out of place in our beach bum attire…but decided to hang around for a bit and found an empty table in the back…receiving a few raised eyebrows from the people around us. Well, after a song or two, we decided to perhaps find a different place to spend our evening…but I needed to go to the bathroom first…so I stepped away for a few minutes. And, almost the very second, I returned to my seat, the cowboy running the karaoke…announced over the loud speakers, “Miles Brandon…your song is up…come to the stage.” I looked at my friends immediately with my eyes wide, and they just stared back at me like they had no idea what was going on…yeah right.
Well, friends, I had a decision to make…run for it…or walk to the stage. Well, I took a deep breath and, perhaps, spurred on by my well documented love of karaoke…or maybe the Holy Spirit’s encouragement, I slowly made my way to the stage…in my flip flops, brightly colored swim suit, and Hawaiian shirt…took the mic offered to me, and starred at the screen sitting directly in front of me…with no idea what song was about to come up…hoping against hope it was some country standard…Willie Nelson or some such. But, no luck. As the words emerged on the screen, they read Dancing Queen by Abba. At this point, I was genuinely concerned for my physical well-being. The crowd was silent…all sitting and staring at me with smirks on their faces…or, at least, it felt that way. I was really wishing I had made a run for it. But, alas, it was too late. So, my only option left was to go for it. And, I did…my best falsetto…shaking what God gave me the entire time. My plan was just to get to the end of it, and then walk out, I assumed, in shame. But, about a quarter of the way through the song…I noticed an angel in my midst…a big, rough and tumble cowboy begin to clap along with the beat. Then a few others around him joined in. So, I dug in deeper…leaning into the mic, and people began to stand…a few started dancing with me…by the final chorus we were all belting it out… “young and sweet…only 17…oh…yeah…you can dance…you can jive…having the time of your life…see that girl…watch that scene…diggin’ the dancing queen.” And, as we came to the end, the crowd erupted in a cheer, as I slapped high fives all the way back to my table. We didn’t end up leaving…till much, much later. It was so awesome…greatest karaoke moment ever…friends and strangers alike connected through harmony and rhythm…the genius that is Abba.
Leonardo da Vinci writes, “Do you know that your soul is composed of harmony?” And, the 20###sup/sup### century German journalist and music producer, Jaochim-Ernst Berendt, writes, “At the root of all power and motion, there is music and rhythm, the play of patterned frequencies against the matrix of time. We know that every particle in the physical universe takes its characteristics from the pitch and pattern and overtones of its particular frequencies, its singing. Before we make music, music makes us.” And, to make the step from physics to metaphysics, I believe the source of those rhythms and harmonies that gives motion and brings order to the universe and our lives within it…that unseen frequency that connects us to both our Creator and all our Creator has made…is the Spirit…God’s own Holy Spirit…who is constantly singing with in us…the very rhythm of love…inviting us to make music with her. And, when we tune in and tune up to the Spirit’s rhythm that lives deep within us…and then pours out of us…we begin to harmonize with those around us. We connect and make music together…something even more beautiful and demanding of attention than what we could ever produce on our own. God’s Holy Spirit, endlessly poured out of Jesus’ empty tomb, come down to fill our lives at Pentecost…all lives…old and young…brown, black and white…gentile and Jew…God’s Holy Spirit that fills all of us is intended to move us, shake up what God has given us…with the rhythm of love…move us to connect with God and each other…beach bums and cowboys…friends and strangers, even, enemies…to sing together…to make a heavenly sort of music together that connects us, heals us, makes us whole, points to the possibility of love to make all things new.
In our Gospel reading this morning, Jesus calls the Spirit that he promises and has, indeed, given us, through his glorious resurrection and at Pentecost, Jesus calls the Spirit the Advocate. And, an advocate, is one who partners with us and steps out before us…not to take our place…but to create the space we need to step out and be seen and heard…to sing ourselves. When we advocate on behalf of a child or a friend or a person or people who is living in the shadows or margins…neglected or abuse…again…we are not seeking to replace them…or only speak for them…but to lift them up and shine our light on them…to create the necessary conditions, the safety and platform, so that their voice…their claim for dignity and respect…their God-given right to be seen and heard…can exist. And, the Holy Spirit, our God given advocate, indeed, goes before us and beckons us to follow…creating the space we need to claim our own dignity…our worthiness to give and receive love…to belong to God and one another…to make our song heard. And, when we hear and follow the Spirit’s rhythm, we inspire others to join us in that song so that we can make music together, which, again, connects us, heals us, makes us whole, and points to the possibility of love, God’s rhythm of love, which make all things new.
It might be a stretch to suggest that it was the Spirit’s advocacy that encouraged me to risk taking that stage in Galveston rather than run for the doors…to sing out and connect my voice with others…sharing in a moment of joy. But…friends…I can assure you that many times…the Spirit’s rhythm has, indeed, moved me…begun to strike up a song in me…that encouraged me to share my voice in ways that invited others to use theirs…to sing sweet harmonies…as we stand side by side. Moments like sitting in hearing rooms at the capital before giving testimony seeking healthcare access for new moms, common sense Gun laws, additional funding for public education. Moments like answering a hospital’s call to sit and pray with a perfect stranger as they breathed their last. Moments like preaching to a couple of thousand people at my daughters’ school. Moments like visiting a friend in prison after they had killed someone in a drunk driving accident. Moments, even, like this…for every time I preach…some 23 years into ordained life…I still feel the butterflies flapping their wings in my tummy. And, if honest, the instinct is always to quickly head for the hills…but I can’t…we can’t…for the Spirit’s rhythm strikes up…always beckoning us on…always leading the way onto the stage of life…where harmonies with others are established and music is made together…as Spirit meets Spirit…and our hearts quicken. The Conductor waves her wand…the play of patterned frequencies against the matrix of time…and something beautiful is made…healing happens…wholeness happens…connection happens…joy happens.
I think it is worth noting that when the Holy Spirit arrived at the historical Pentecost, as we heard in our reading from Acts, she arrived with a sound…like a rush of wind. And, that in receiving the Spirit those present began to speak…to speak in the many and varied languages of all who were present…the language of the beach bums and the cowboys. And, I imagine that many also sung those words as the Spirit filled their souls with her life-giving, universe ordering, love filled rhythm. And, I think the point, as I have tried to describe the work of the Spirit, was to deeply connect all who were present with God and each other…a rhythm established…that moved each toward one another…binding one to another…a choir created…with the Spirit leading the way. And, I imagine the sort of music made in that moment by all present was as beautiful as any ever made.
And, I think St. Julian’s is the work of the Spirit. The Spirit vibrating in each of us…a rhythm established in my soul and in yours that beckoned us on…leading us to each other. Miles the beach bum to Mickey the cowboy. Tony the theologian to Bea the healthcare provider. Cara Beth the teacher to Zach the programmer. Steve the veteran to Amelia the student, who has so wondrously filled my life with Abba over the past year…and on and on…till rhythms lined up and harmonies were established…a choir whose singing, indeed, creates healing and wholeness…and points to the possibility of love, God’s love, that makes all things new…the love which was and is the very first vibration…the very first note struck…that set everything that is into motion…and how so beautiful it all is.
And, friends, the band plays on…the music continues…our singing continues…the Spirit’s rhythm continues to led on…a people always set in motion by the Spirit’s vibrations…whether in karaoke bars or church…wherever we gather…such that others might find a place in our choir…that other’s might find, in our Spirit like advocacy, a safe space to find their voice affirmed and lifted up….all while…having the time of our lives…until the world is full of a surround sound spirituality that people speaking all languages can understand…all finding unity in the Spirit’s rhythm that calls us together and binds us all, with God, into one. Amen.