A Sermon for Pentecost 2023 : St Matthew's Perry Beeches

'Out of the believer's heart shall flow rivers of living water' (John 7:38b)

In my last parish, I once had a theological student on placement. He was from a very evangelical background and came to us because he wanted to learn about the Catholic tradition in the Church of England.  It so happened that he was with us for Pentecost, so I thought it would be interesting to get him to preach that morning.

I have to say, he preached very well, using a visual aid – two balloons.  These balloons were identical in colour, size and shape, but one of them was filled with ordinary air and the other with helium. During the course of the sermon, the student produced his two balloons. As you’d expect, the one filled with ordinary air bounced around the pulpit a bit and then fell to the ground; but the balloon filled with helium, of course, immediately soared upwards. Thankfully, he had the presence of mind to secure the second balloon to something, as he obviously realised that if it had got lodged in the rafters of our medieval ceiling, he would have immediately failed his placement! (As it was, I did tease him afterwards that he’d failed anyway because the balloons were green, when the correct liturgical colour for Pentecost is, of course, red.) 

Now you’re probably ahead of me here and have already worked out that the ordinary balloon represented the disciples before they were filled with the power of the Holy Spirit, and the helium-filled balloon represented those same disciples after the dramatic events of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit transformed them from  a confused, nervous group of people with no real sense of direction to an energetic, courageous group of Apostles, ready to preach the Gospel to the whole world, whether it was welcome or unwelcome.  

You could say that rather like that helium balloon, from the day of Pentecost onwards, the disciples were ready to fly.

The Book of the Acts of the Apostles, of course, testifies to this. Not only does it tell us of how the Apostles strode bravely out into the world, but it is crammed full of references to the Holy Spirit and to what God, in the person of the Holy Spirit, was doing. In fact it has often been said that the Acts of the Apostles could equally well be called ‘The Acts of the Holy Spirit’.

But there’s a problem with all this. Exciting reading though the Book of Acts may be, it doesn’t really look very much like today’s Church, does it? That was the very point that our student went on to make as he asked the congregation how Spirit-filled they were. Did they see themselves – he asked - as the balloon filled with air or the balloon filled with helium, or, I wondered to myself, did they prefer to dismiss all that he was saying on the grounds that like many a preacher, he was just filled with hot air?

Well, the latter could have been a good cop-out couldn’t it? Because let’s face it, those of us in the mainstream traditions of the mainstream churches are not always very comfortable talking about the Holy Spirit.

Every time we say the Creed in any of its forms, we affirm our belief in the Holy Spirit, and as we’ll be reminded next week, the Holy Spirit is an equal person of the one, holy and undivided Trinitarian God, the God who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit; and yet all too often our references to the Holy Spirit are little more than a sort of liturgical ‘over and out’ at the end of a prayer.

So what’s this awkwardness all about?

For weeks we’ve been building up to this moment. You’ll remember how the newly risen Jesus appeared to the disciples in that upper room, breathed on them and gently said, “Receive the Holy Spirit”. You’ll remember too, I hope, how Jesus promised the disciples that he wouldn’t leave them orphaned but would send them another counsellor, the Spirit of Truth. You’ll remember how the disciples were told to wait in Jerusalem until they were clothed with power from on high, and today that happens and all of those promises are fulfilled.

And yet…..and yet, we’re not quite sure what we make of all this. The idea of God being present and active within us. The idea of God being around us and active in the world and the church, and perhaps most scary of all, the idea of God doing supernatural things is all a bit disturbing. It’s not really very Church of England, is it? And yet, what would be the point of a God who breaks his promises? What would be the point of a Jesus who leaves us orphaned? What would be the point of a God who isn’t supernatural?

Well actually, these ideas are not as alien as they may seem.  Think for a moment about what we’re doing here today as we celebrate this Eucharist together. As Catholic Anglicans we believe that as the priest calls down the Holy Spirit, bread and wine are mysteriously and wonderfully transformed into something new. Even if you don’t want to go all the way and believe in transubstantiation, we at the very least believe that our Lord is especially and really present in the consecrated bread and wine. At Mass, something supernatural happens.

Similarly, we believe in ordination. We believe that when the Holy Spirit is called down to equip someone for the office and work of a deacon or priest or bishop, there is what we call an ontological change. Something mysterious happens that gives that flawed, imperfect human being the ability to do certain things – to bless, to absolve, to consecrate – in other words the newly ordained person becomes a channel for the Holy Spirit to do specific things for the benefit of the whole body of Christ.

If we really believe all of that – and I certainly do, and I hope you do – then we believe very firmly in the person and activity of God the Holy Spirit.

“Ah yes”, you might say, “We can live with all that, but what about all that weird stuff about speaking in tongues, or prophesying or healing?” 

There is a theological view that says that such things stopped at a certain point in history because the Church was growing so quickly and so effectively that these sorts of signs and wonders – these pointers, if you like, to an active supernatural God – were no longer needed.  So the Holy Spirit stopped moving in these sort of ways.

Well, I’ve got at least three problems with that.

First, how do we reconcile that with our belief in a God who is eternal and changeless?

Second, it’s actually not true that all of these things disappeared. They may have become far less common, but they have always continued to some degree in some parts of the church, often in surprising places. You may be amazed, as I was years ago, to learn, for example that Speaking in Tongues has always been part of the life of the eastern orthodox church, mainly  in some of its monasteries, but it’s simply regarded as one way of praying amongst many others.

Third, as we look at today’s world and today’s church, particularly in this country, can we really say that we don’t need the help and activity of the Holy Spirit anymore? Do we honestly believe that some of the more dramatic acts of the Holy Spirit in the Acts of the Apostles wouldn’t help to convert people today?

In any event, since the early 1900s, the church has been recovering a new sense of the significance of the Holy Spirit. In a little mission church on Azusa Street in Los Angeles in 1906, a congregation began quite spontaneously to rediscover some of the biblical gifts of the spirit, and Pentecostalism was born.     

Today there are many Pentecostal churches all around the world, and Pentecostalism is now the fastest growing branch of Christianity,   Alongside that, a Pentecostal-type spirituality has also sprouted up in the mainstream denominations, including the Church of England, Methodism and Roman Catholicism. In these settings it tends to be called ‘The Charismatic Movement’, from the Greek word Charism meaning ‘gift’.

Interestingly, all three of the most recent Popes have been enthusiastic supporters of Charismatic Renewal within the Roman Catholic Church, even though the first two, John Paul II and Benedict, were hardly known for their progressive views. Actually, in a Catholic context it attracts many younger worshippers, brings renewed devotion and reverence to the eucharist, and increased take-up of the sacrament of reconciliation.

The Charismatic movement does bring new life to the church. It does bring both numeric and spiritual growth, and whilst we may be tempted to write it off as something that is only found in churches that we might disparagingly label as ‘happy-clappy’, that is simply not true. In any event, we may want to ask ourselves what is so wrong with being happy in our Christianity, and to remember that we in our turn are labelled by some as ‘high and dry’. There’s something to think about!

Of course, the Charismatic Movement has plenty of faults and excesses. We’ve all seen footage of wild revivalist services where a profusely sweating preacher has ranted at his congregation, pushed people over claiming to have healed them, whilst the congregation in their turn have become more and more hysterical. I find it difficult to glimpse much of Jesus in that kind of scenario.

When God entrusts himself into human hands, it is dangerous. But every branch of Christianity has its frauds, its charlatans and its lunatic fringe. I could, after all, take you to some Anglo-Catholic churches that do some pretty extraordinary things!

We must be on a guard against this, of course we must. But we shouldn’t throw out the baby with the bathwater. We shouldn’t turn our back on that most precious and wonderful gift of the Holy Spirit that is given to all of us. We shouldn’t restrict what work God can do in today’s church and today’s world by closing our hearts and minds simply because we fear that which is different or new or mysterious and inexplicable. 

Nor should we get wound up about the so-called gifts of the spirit and who does or who doesn’t speak in tongues or whatever. What we should be much more concerned about are the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

These are the fruits by which we should be known. These are the fruits that demonstrate that we are indeed filled with the Holy Spirit; and for this to happen, all we need to do is to believe – to really believe – in the power, the presence and the work of the Holy Spirit, in us, through us and around us.

Jesus said, "Out of the believer's heart shall flow rivers of living water". 

So, on this Pentecost Sunday, do we really believe in the Holy Spirit? What are we most like – the balloon filled with ordinary air – or the balloon filled with helium? Which do we want to be, and which do we think Jesus wants us to be?

Amen.