The Language of the Spirit

“The Language of the Spirit”
sermon by Carrie Eikler
Acts 2:1-2
Pentecost Sunday

I like to think of the Holy Spirit as a spirit who speaks many languages, a polyglot. Isn’t that a great word? Polyglot. Someone who speaks many languages. A spirit that communicates with many people, all people in fact. I like to think of our son Sebastian as a polyglot. He has taken it upon himself to discover and create new words. Mostly it sounds like gibberish, but I recognize it is his own special language. It can be kind of weird. But to him some credit, I can just image all the learning that goes into that little head of his: he learns new English words everyday, some French and Spanish words occasionally. And on top of that, he is constantly learning our culture and society’s norms, rules, niceties. We are constantly needing to tell him to not do this, but please do this, the fork goes on this side of the plate the spoon on that side, the proper place to go to the bathroom is in the toilet…not off the top of the outside stairwell, please…

Yes, in that little turning, churning brain of his he is getting so much information, I don’t blame him for wanting to have a little control over his reality. One of the most notable of his Sebastian-ese is quite endearing, even though it is a tad embarrassing. We checked a children’s book out of the library (and I can’t believe I’m saying this from the pulpit) called “Chicken Butt.” It is a dialogue between a boy, his father, and yes, a chicken. And any one who is at least my age and younger, knows about this reference of “chicken butt.” You ask a question, “Guess What?” and the response is? “Chicken Butt” “Guess Why?” “Chicken Thigh” and the questions go all through the body. I don’t know why, but this is hilarious to children.

So somehow Sebastian has turned “Chicken Butt” into a term of endearment meaning “I love you.” And somehow, as if to seal the deal and to add some sort of emphasis, he adds his own special word to the end, which is “gollickly” So if he runs up to you and says “Chicken Butt Gollickly” please don’t take offense. He is simply saying, I love you very much.

Now this can be cute, but I have to admit, I shrink a little when I’m walking out the door to come to church for the day and as I’m crossing the street, I hear the creak of the screen door and such a loud voice, coming out of such a little boy, professing in front of the entire neighborhood “Chicken Butt! Gollickly!” Often, a bit red, I’ll respond “I love you too” or if I’m not quite aware of what’s going on I’ll respond in kind, a reciprocal “Chicken Butt Gollickly.” And then I just realize what I did, and hurry to the church wishing Sebastian would stop yelling this unruly affection.

Unruly affection just might be a way of describing the events of Pentecost. And the Jews who gathered in our story today, gathered together from distant lands to celebrate the end of the Jewish Festival of Weeks, or Shavout, had their own story of God’s unruly affection. They were celebrating the Pentecost, at the end of the fifty days that follows the Passover, a celebration of bringing in the harvest, a celebration of Moses receiving the divine law from Mt. Sinai and giving it to the Israelites, this gift, this unruly affection. Legend has it that when the Israelites received the law, flame came down from heaven and divided into 70 tongues of fire, one for each nation of the world. All could understand, but only one nation promised to keep the Law, Israel.[1] And you thought Pentecost was just a Christian celebration.

So with that story of the 70 tongues and Mt. Sinai in mind, you can imagine those in the room felt part of God’s continuing work. And with that story of the 70 tongues and Mt. Sinai in mind, you can imagine those out in the street were wondering what in the world was going on in there.

We kind of forget about them, don’t we? Those people out in the street? Perplexed at the cacophony of languages coming out of that room, but more amazed that they were understanding, even though they sounded simply drunk (and as Peter reminds us, of course they are not drunk, it’s only 9 in the morning for heavens sake). The unruly party leaks out into the street. What was a private event is now a holy public nuisance.

All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another “What does this mean?” What does this mean? Why are you shouting these words of love at me in the street? And since we have heard this story of Pentecost, most every year, faithfully following seven weeks after Easter (50 days), we have a tendency to move Pentecost off the street, and shove it back indoors where it is safe. “Yes yes, chicken butt gollockily, I love you too, now please, please be quiet and go back inside. The neighbors will hear you.”

And let’s face it, the word Pentecost probably makes most of us uncomfortable. We link it with the word Pentecostal and decide that we are above any such boisterousness: speaking in tongues is not who we are, flames of fire is not how we choose to experience the Spirit, and please let’s just say it was the church’s birthday and leave it at that.

I certainly know the feeling. It makes us uncomfortable, doesn’t it? Kind of like…sitting close together in church when we’ve been happy in that one spot for years. And strangely the Spirit which was sent to give us comfort, also moves in the language of un-comfort…Words from Monica Coleman:

when we put the gospel
to hip hopand host u2charists,
when we share the church building
with the Korean congregation,
when we preach against homophobia
when we break breadwith jews and muslims,
when the teenagers lead worship
on a regular Sunday (not just youth day)
when we invoke the ancestors
and learn from their lives,
when we live at the borders
offering water to those in the desert
harbor to those in danger
and community when we don't fit in. . .
it is then that we speak in tongues[2]

Language of un-comfort, fall on us…

When I think of this unruly character of the Spirit, I think of the Hebrew word for spirit: ruach. Ruach is not only the word for spirit, but also for breath. In the beginning it was ruach that blew across the face of the earth, crafting life and inspiring beings. Ruach—breath—breath that gives life. Ruach—spirit—holy spirit that blew in like tongues of fire. This is the unruly character we witness at Pentecost--the spirit that gives life. Breathe it in (inhale)—spirit! Breathe it out (exhale)—spirit! The Spirit moves in the language of life. Words from seminarian friend and poet Callid Keefe-Perry:

My God is in the next room,
cooking unseen feasts
and humming;
moments of ache
before rain
when the whole June cloud
is ready to burst through
though no drop has yet fallen;
dandelion blades that insist
adamantly they must reside directly
in the middle of your neighbor's
blacktopped suburban driveway;
sights of the shadow of a bird flitting
by the sill near the bed of an aging Grace,
who can no longer move but counts herself
lucky because at least she can still see.
This is my God:expectant and grinningwild and near[3]

Language of life, fall on us…

Spirit speaks in uncomfort, spirit speaks in life. When we sigh and resign to sitting this close to people, spirit moves us here and then moves out us to meet people, this close to people, in the world, in the street, and share an unruly word of God’s love. When you bring spirit into your life, making a commitment that with each breath in and each breath out you will live this one precious life for the kingdom of God and your neighbor’s good, as it is said, you speak the language of Spirit.

When Spirit came to us at Pentecost, she made us polyglots too…people who speak and understand many languages of the Spirit. And as a true polyglot, the Holy Spirit speaks to us not in just one language but in many. In the language of un-comfort, in the language of life, in the language of…?

In these moments, I invite you to sit and think how the Spirit speaks to you. Not how you wish Spirit spoke to you, or how you think Spirit should speak to you. But try to identify one place that you see Spirit speaking, and you understanding. For me, as an example, Spirit speaks in feelings of gratitude, most notably around 1:45 in the afternoon when Sebastian is having quiet time, and Alistiar has just fallen asleep and I can simply rest…and remember and breathe in the blessings of my life.

And if you are unable to identify how Spirit speaks to you, don’t feel like you failed. That you are deaf or dumb to the language of the Spirit. Use your searching as a prayer for the Holy Spirit to make herself known to you. After a few moments of silence, I invite you turn to someone sitting next to you and briefly share what came to you: that place you feel the Holy Spirit, or if you still haven’t identified it yet. Let’s take advantage of being so close, at least.

For we are community, born of fire and water, touched by the unruly affection of the Holy Spirit.


[1] Loader, William. http://wwwstaff.murdoch.edu.au/~loader/CActsPentecost.htm
[2] How the Spirit Moves Today: in 100 words or less. www.patheos.com
[3] “Bird Shadows/Holy Spirit” www.theimageoffish.com