June 4, 2017 – The Day of Pentecost: Whitsunday
© 2017 Evan D. Garner
Audio of this sermon can be heard here.
In 1944, Ronald Hall had
a problem. As Bishop of Hong Kong, he was responsible for the Anglican
Christians in Macau, then a neutral territory under Portuguese control, but
Japanese occupation of Hong Kong and parts of China during the Second World War
had made it impossible for clergymen to travel and administer the sacraments to
them. They were a church without a priest. A few years earlier, Bishop Hall had
sent them a deaconess, who, as a woman, was able to travel behind enemy lines in
order to care for them. She had even been given special permission to
distribute the Lord’s Supper to them, but, as a deacon, she wasn’t able to
celebrate Communion—only give out the bread and wine that a priest had already
consecrated in another service. Eventually, even that special arrangement
became unsustainable, and Bishop Hall was forced to make a choice.
He wrote to William
Temple, the Archbishop of Canterbury, to explain his decision: “I’m not an
advocate for the ordination of women. I am, however, determined that no
prejudices should prevent the congregations committed to my care having the
sacraments of the Church.”[1]
In January 1944, Bishop Hall ordained her a priest, and Florence Li Tim-Oi
became the first female priest in the Anglican Communion. That was more than
thirty years before any Anglican church would officially accept the ordination
of women. When Archbishop Temple got news of Hall’s plan, he publically
condemned it, but there wasn’t anything else he could do. The rules were clear—only
men could serve as priests—but these were extraordinary times. For the rest of
the war, Florence Li Tim-Oi was able to preside at the Eucharist and care for
the people of Macau as their priest no matter what the rules said.
Then, in 1945, when the
war ended, Li resigned her license to function as a priest. She wanted to
defuse the controversy that had erupted throughout the church over her
ordination, but that doesn’t mean that she gave up her identity as a priest.
Once you’re a priest, you’re always a priest. But Li voluntarily surrendered
her license to function as one and resumed the work of a deacon until the
1970s, when the rest of the Anglican Communion finally caught up with her and changed
the rules to reflect what she and Bishop Hall and the Anglican Christians of
Macau had known for three decades. Sometimes it takes human beings a while to
figure out what God is up to, and the fact that, still today, in
forward-thinking, developed nations like the United States, women clergy are
disproportionately relegated to second-tier jobs and make considerably less
money than their equally qualified male counterparts suggests that we still
have some listening to do.
A long time ago, long
before women were ordained, even long before the church itself was breathed
into existence, the same Holy Spirit was already at work breaking the very rules
that human beings had set up to help them accomplish God’s plan. As the People
of Israel journeyed through the wilderness on their way to the Promised Land,
they began to grumble and turn against Moses and against God, who had led them
out of bondage in Egypt. “If only we had meat to eat!” they cried. “We remember
the fish, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic upon
which we feasted for nothing back in Egypt. All we have out here in the desert
is this awful manna.” This wasn’t the first time that the people had
complained, but this time Moses had had enough. “Why have you treated me so
badly?” Moses asked the Lord. “Did I conceive this people? Did I give birth to
them? Why are they my responsibility? And where am I supposed to get enough
meat to feed all these people?” Moses was at the end of his rope, but God was
not deaf to his plea.
The Lord said to Moses,
“Gather for me seventy of the elders of Israel, and bring them to the tent of
meeting. I will come down and take some of the Spirit that is upon you and put
it on them, and they shall bear the burden of the people along with you.” Moses
must have been relieved to know that God had provided a way for him to share
the struggle of leadership with others. I bet he ran back to tell the people
what God had declared and set straight away to gathering up the seventy people whom
he thought were fit for the task. Then, as soon as he had chosen the right ones
and led them down to the meeting place, the Lord came down in the form of a
cloud and took some of the Spirit that was on Moses and spread it around the
others. Immediately, they began to prophesy, speaking with the sort of insight
that only God himself could provide. On the previous day, that had been an ability
that had only belonged to Moses, but, in this Spirit-filled instant, that clear
sign of leadership had been bestowed upon a host of other leaders.
Then, something even stranger
happened. Before Moses could return to his own tent, Joshua, his assistant, ran
out to meet him in order to report that something terrible had taken place. Two
men, Eldad and Medad, who were among the seventy elders whom Moses had
selected, were back in the camp prophesying with the same authority that the other
sixty-eight elders had expressed. For whatever reason, they hadn’t made it to
the tent where God spread his Spirit among them. Maybe they had just been running
late. Or maybe they had forgotten altogether. Or maybe they just hadn’t thought
that it was important for them to show up. But, whatever the reason, Eldad and
Medad didn’t make it to the place where God shared his Spirit with the other
elders. They had been registered for the job, but, when they didn’t make it,
God didn’t allow their dereliction to stand in the way of his gift. Instead,
God sought them out back in the camp and bestowed upon them their own share of
his Spirit, and, when the people saw it, they panicked.
“They aren’t allowed to
do that!” they declared. “That’s Moses’ job!” Even if God had intended to share
that authority with others, surely those who didn’t even bother to show up
shouldn’t get a full share. Joshua ran to tell Moses that these two men were
breaking all of the rules. He begged Moses to stop them, but what was Moses’
reply? “Are you jealous for my sake?” he asked incredulously. “Would that all
of the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his Spirit upon
them!” Seventy people were chosen because they had demonstrated their capacity
for leadership. Two of the seventy failed to show up. But God’s Spirit wasn’t
going to be stopped by that, nor was Moses going to be discouraged. “Would that
all of the Lord’s people were prophets!”
I don’t know about you,
but I don’t like it when people break the rules. I get uncomfortable (if not
angry) when people think that they can disregard centuries of tradition and do
whatever they please—like ordain women and change the definition of marriage
and let unbaptized people receive Communion and change the prayer book and pull
the altar out from the wall. I know myself well enough to know that I would be
among those who decried Florence Li Tim-Oi’s ordination. I am embarrassed by
that, but I know that I am a Pharisee. It’s who I am. Through prayer I am seeking
a softer and more open heart, but I recognize the sort of tradition and rule-idolizing
person I am. But I also know that God isn’t going to let me or you or anyone
else in all of creation stand in the way of what God is doing in this world.
Today is the Feast of
Pentecost. Today we celebrate how the Holy Spirit came down and filled the
hearts and minds of the disciples, enabling them to speak the good news of
Jesus Christ in all of the languages of the known world. This is the day when
the Holy Spirit enabled the good news of salvation to be shed abroad to the
ends of the earth. Not only in Hebrew. Not only in Greek. Not only in Latin.
But, on this day, the mighty deeds of God were declared in the native languages
of every person gathered together in Jerusalem. What could possibly stand in
God’s way?
What a sight to behold!
The crowd took one look at the disciples and concluded that they must be drunk
even at nine o’clock in the morning. Well, at the early service, by the time
the sermon is finished, it’s approaching nine o’clock in the morning, and I
wonder whether this Sunday’s assembly could possibly be mistaken for a drunken
party. Who are we? Are we the crazy, Spirit-filled leaders whom God is using to
break down every barrier that stands in the way of the fully liberating
grace-filled good news of Jesus Christ? Or are we the crowd that complains about
the supposedly-drunken disciples causing too much racket or the two
out-of-place prophets doing what only Moses is supposed to do? Who are we? Are
we filled with the Spirit? Or are we shaking our heads at what the Spirit is
doing all around us?
Since the beginning of
time, the Holy Spirit has been the breath upon which God’s love has flowed to
all of creation. God’s love is transformative. It is intimidating. It takes
everything we think we know about love and forgiveness and inclusion and
shatters our understanding. It is always bigger than we are ready for. It is
always more powerful than we are comfortable with. It always brings more people
to the table than we expect. I don’t like it when the Holy Spirit leads the
people of God into uncharted territory because I prefer to be in control. But
no one can be in control of God’s Spirit. I’m learning to trust that my job
isn’t to build a wall to make sure that no one interrupts what God is doing
inside the church but to seek the Spirit’s strength to tear those walls down so
that nothing and no one can stand in God’s way. What about you? Are you ready
for what the Spirit will do next?
[1]
Rose, Mavis (1996). Freedom from
Sanctified Sexism – Women Transforming the Church. Queensland, Australia:
Allira Publications. pp. 129.49. Qtd. in Wikipedia
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Florence_Li_Tim-Oi.
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