Pentecost and the Geranium Festival

What follows is just about the most fun I’ve had with a sermon in some time.

When I told a good friend I was going to give a sermon on Pentecost, he suggested I deliver it in tongues for added effect. As much as I’d like to, I just don’t have the skills to do that this morning. But I do believe the ancient story of this Jewish and Christian festival still speaks to us with its major themes. I’ll briefly address the history and theology of the festival before I try and use those themes to remind us of some important parts of our own faith.

Pentecost began as Shavuot, the Jewish Festival of Weeks, named so because it fell 49 days, or seven weeks, after Passover. Shavuot, while it was originally a harvest festival, came to be a celebration of the giving of the Decalogue, the Ten Commandments, the centerpiece of the Torah. The two festivals of Passover and Shavuot, then, celebrated the early Jewish story. The Jews held in Egypt were freed on Passover and, after some detours through the desert, were given the law by God through Moses.

Then came Jesus, and his passionate evangelical biographer, Luke. The author of the Gospel of Luke and of the Book of Acts. Luke is writing so that his reader will come to faith in Jesus as the Jewish Messiah. He knows about Shavuot. He knows that male Jews from all over came to Jerusalem during this important festival. They spoke different languages. And so, he puts the early disciples in a room, praying, after he has Jesus safely ascended back to heaven. They’re praying in a small room and suddenly the spirit of God, descends on them with the fury of a strong wind and they begin to deliver their message about Jesus in the various languages of all the people who have gathered for the Feast of Shavout (the Greeks named it Pentecost, Greek for ‘fiftieth day,’ for its distance from Easter). The significance of Luke’s account? At Pentecost, there’s a new Decalogue given, a new basis for relationship with God. A new universal law, inclusive of people of all languages and nationalities.

But that isn’t the topic of my sermon this morning. Not really. In the spirit of Pentecost, in story form I want to tell the old story of Pentecost in a new way.

Our story is centered right here in Danville. Imagine if you will that it’s the month of May. Geranium Festival time (and if you haven’t signed up to work the church’s booth yet, it’s an absolute blast, you won’t want to miss it and the sign-up is on the table). It’s a wonderful time of year. The Redbuds are in full bloom, the air is getting warmer by the week and crowds of gaunt, hollow-eyed, ice-cream-starved people line up every evening outside the Dairy Queen. It’s Springtime in Danville, and the livin’ is easy.

Temporary booths housing Geranium Festival vendors line the square. They offer gardening tips and fattening food and games for young festival-goers. The vendors in the Farmer’s Market have set out their wares. Horse-drawn carriages are taking visitors on tours around our fair city. There’s music, food, and an ample supply of Danville’s official flower, the Geranium.

Now, you don’t drive into Danville, see Dave’s All-American Eatery and the Mayberry Café, and think ‘this must be one diverse community.’ However,  as the French philosopher Michel do Montaigne said, “There never were in the world two opinions alike, no more than two hairs or two grains; the most universal quality is diversity” Anywhere people gather, there’s diversity. The Downtown Danville Geranium Festival is no exception. People from all over Hendricks County have traveled in to the county seat. A Central American man from Plainfield has come with his family. A gay couple from Brownsburg decided to drive down for the day. An atheist living in Danville and a Wiccan from Avon walk side by side with a Christian from Clayton. But it seems everybody is talking about one thing: The folks from that brick church at the corner of Jefferson and Clinton Streets.

“Word is there’s something strange going on there,” said one festival-goer to a friend. “I’ve heard they don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“Yeah,” the other said, “I heard they pool their money and give away food and toys on Christmas Day. And I heard lots of Christians help them. ON CHRISTMAS DAY!!! Weird.”

There’s another rumor flying around the festival. Can it really be true that they ring a bell and sound a gong before service? And they drop rocks in a bowl of water right in the middle of their meetings? And then, they’re free to argue with the minister right in front of God and everybody? That part just seemed to most of the people at the festival too good to be true. When they met the people at the UUCC booth, they seemed so nice and, well, almost normal. What was it that drew them to this congregation?

There was no official meeting. No committee of people who got together and decided to check out this strange group of people. But, one by one, individually, some festival-goers decided they had to come and see for themselves. And so, separately, from every corner of Hendricks County, the Sunday after the Geranium Festival they woke, showered, ate their breakfasts, watered their Geraniums and headed for Unitarian Universalist Community Church behind the Mayberry Café in Danville.

I can’t tell you exactly what they heard at church that day. Maybe they heard Christian deliver an excellent sermon on his interest in Wiccan spirituality. Or maybe the service focused on sustainable eating, or ethics, or eastern spirituality. All I know for sure is what happened after service.

It wasn’t hard for the visitors to find each other, as they all sported paper name tags and clipboards with information on UUism. They gathered and discussed what they’d seen.

“I was a member of a church, but I couldn’t believe what all my friends believed anymore,” one man said. “I thought I’d never find a place to belong, but during the service today, I felt like I was a part. It was like it was all just for me.”

“Yeah,” said another man who had arrived at church that morning with his partner of 20 years. “We’ve been excluded by religion before because of our sexual orientation, but here, we’re not only welcome, I think I saw a few of those people at an LGBT rally downtown last month!”

And person after person, theist and atheist, male and female, from Plainfield to North Salem, expressed that old UU cliché that they had been Unitarian Universalists for years and hadn’t known it. And they all became members and joined the Building and Grounds committee.

That’s kinda my story. And I’ve heard some of you say the same thing. Oh, maybe you didn’t join Building and Grounds (though I think Dave Chalfant is taking applications), but many of you came here wondering if you’d ever find anyplace that allowed you to be you, and this was it! There was a spirit among the people here which drew you to stay. I personally wondered whether I would ever be able to be a minister, to fulfill what I see as a calling to this vocation, without believing certain things, and among the Unitarian Universalists I have found home!

Here, there’s a movement of the holiest of spirits, as the spirit of life weaves in and among us, animating us to serve, calling us to community. Here is offered a message for the masses. Too often we assume that only a certain demographic will respond to the UU message and so, intentionally and unintentionally, we target white upper middle class people, but I’m here to tell you that a boy raised in the sticks south of Bloomington can become a born-again Unitarian Universalist, too. Who would have thought you would end up here? Who knows what other seekers there are in your group of friends, your neighborhood? The message of love and acceptance and inclusion and justice for all is, well, for all! The spirit of our faith calls us to share openly our faith in our compassion, in our deeds, and sometimes with words.

As well, we have unity in community. Marcia Denton heads the Care and Concern Committee. And let me tell you from experience, if Marcia or one of her committee know you’re sick or in need, you’re getting something. Food or notes or a caring bear. Help is on the way. That’s special, friends. The sharing we have in joys and concerns, the time we share together over coffee and refreshments after service. Not every congregation shares such community. Now, that doesn’t preclude the occasional disagreement. Where two or three UUs are gathered, there will be at least five opinions on the issue at hand. But we are a community, animated by the spirit of life, with a bond between us and a message to share!

On the day of Pentecost, when the Spirit was said to have fallen on a little group of people who went out and changed their world, I’m happy to say it’s happening again! The spirit of life moves among us, motivates us to share our message of inclusion and acceptance through social service and love of neighbor. There are people in Hendricks County who long to hear someone speaking to them in their native tongue. May we be those people. Amen.