Rev. Dr.. Les Martin

Pentecost 2025 – They were all together in one place
Rev. Dr. Les Martin
Acts 2:16

In the Name of the Living God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen

Having migrated from the East after the flood, the peoples gathered on the plain of Shinar, all together in one place.  This is not a good thing. Back in Genesis 9, the command had been to “go forth into the world, to be fruitful and multiply, to fill the whole earth.” They don’t.  Instead, they settle together to build a city, precisely so that they won’t be dispersed.  What could look like an exciting new beginning is actually the last phase of a long story of alienation that is played out in the early chapters of Genesis.

By the end of Genesis 3, humanity has been alienated from God and the Garden, husbands and wives have been alienated from each other. In chapter 4, Cain and Abel illustrate the alienation of brother from brother.  By chapter 9, in the story of Noah and his sons, we see the alienation of children from their parents.  Each step of the way, a God-given relationship has been misused, and God’s people have suffered the consequences. Here, in chapter 11, we see the final act of biblical prehistory- and on the plain of Shinar, the end result will build the alienation of the peoples of the Earth from each other.

The people are afraid of of losing themselves, of irrelevance it seems. They say: “let us make a name for ourselves” “lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.” “Let us make”- a pale imitation of the words of the creating God in Genesis 1:28. Mere mortals, formed from the dust- they decide that the way to make a reputation is to fashion that same dust into bricks, a city, a tower. The assumption seems to be that such a city will provide a center for the peoples, when in fact God would be their center, were they willing. Making “a name for ourselves”- fame and feats- is what brings people together, they assume, when in fact such self-seeking will actually have the opposite effect. This striving for a self-made “name” stands in contrast to the promise of God.   Later, in Genesis12:2 God will do what the peoples can not.  He will say to Abram, “I will bless you, and make your name great.” The tower of Babel story raises the question: just who is responsible for the reputation, the name of the people of God: the people, or God?

The people believe they are. They have come to see the command to be fruitful and multiply as a threat to what they already possess. They are driven by fear: “otherwise we shall be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.” What is possible only for God- a name, a purpose, and unity- becomes instead a project for humankind, independent and counter to the will and gifting of God.  And God will not let it stand- neither their decision nor their tower.

We can be tempted to see God’s judgment on the Babel project as somehow harsh or jealous, but in fact it is a mercy to them. God halts their progress to limit the damage that it will cause and to limit the extent human beings can harden themselves against him. The problem is not with society or with the tower- as we saw in our recent Revelation sermons, God himself will one day build a city for his people.  Rather, it is the hearts of the people who are building this particular society and this particular tower at this particular time. The people of Babel are neither wise enough nor good enough to be their own gods. “Nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them,” God says.  Understand this well:  this does not represent a threat to God, but a threat to humanity.  The scattering they sought to avoid becomes the judgment the Lord must render so that our desire for a name and our dreams of security will remain on a proper versus a rebellious track, based on promise, rather than power.  The people of God are to be named, not make themselves a name.  They are to rely on the promise of God, coming to Abram in just a few short chapters, rather than on their own self-will and power.

They were all together in one place.  John tells us that:

That Sunday evening the disciples were meeting behind locked doors because they were afraid of the Jewish leaders. (John 20:19, NLT)

They had reason to be afraid that first Easter Sunday. One of their own had turned out to be a traitor, betraying Jesus to the temple authorities. Peter, perhaps, would have been afraid of himself- afraid of what he was capable of- wallowing in guilt for his own denial of Jesus just to save his own skin. The kangaroo courts- both sacred and secular- had rushed through their version of “justice.” Jesus was tortured, killed, buried in a borrowed tomb. Despite the excited assertions of Mary Magdalene, they were all together in one place- locked in and afraid.  Unlike the peoples on the plane of Shinar, their fear does not motivate them to frantic activity, it paralyzes. And then, there’s Jesus.  He brings his peace to them. He brings them more: a mission, to be sent just as he had been, and the Holy Spirit, that they might continue his work of proclamation and absolution, and thus extend the reconciling work of God.  They have waited in fear and uncertainty, yet God has acted. Disciples have become apostles.

They were all together in one place.  It was Pentecost, the feast of first fruits and the day in the sacred history that was 50 days after Passover, when God’s people had come to Mount Sinai, and Moses had received the Law.  It would have brought to mind the beginning of the harvest, but also the day that God provided for his people new and different way of life  And the disciples- now become apostles- are all together in one place. They have been gathering to pray together in the city, as Jesus had told them just prior to his Ascension: 

I am sending the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high. (Luke 24:49, ESV).

Since the promise God made to Abraham in Genesis 12, the question had been “How?”  How would God fulfill his promise to extend his kingdom, his saving rule- not only in Israel but by means of Israel-  to reach the rest of the world. The person and work of Jesus, is, of course, the answer and yet, by the time of the Ascension, the number of believers- heirs of Abraham- was still really small, compared to the whole world. 

In our reading today, God moves. The promises to Abraham are being fulfilled, and the whole human race is going to be addressed with the good news of what has happened in and through Jesus, ironically through the voice of once fearful, once guilty Peter.  The apostles- with no name but that of Jesus, no power but what the Spirit gives, not anxiously working but patiently waiting- are indeed clothed with power from on high.  The supernatural gift of one language makes it clear: on this Pentecost, the alienation is reversed, and the curse of Babel is lifted.  There shall be one people under God, and the 3000 added to the church that day are the first fruits of a new kind of Pentecost. As the Anglican divine, Bishop Lancelot Andrewes writes:

Why came the Spirit upon Christ? To send Him. Send Him to what? Ad evangelizandum [to evangelize] And why came the Spirit upon the Twelve this day, but for the very same end? To proclaim what? The acceptable year of the Lord, that is, the Jubilee.

And, as history bears witness, it didn’t stop there.

We have considered three groups of people, each gathered together in one place: The “Babel-ers:” anxious, fearful, alienated and engaged in striving to try and make something happen. The disciples: anxious, fearful, and frozen- unable to move forward without the peace of Jesus and the power of the Spirit.  The apostles: waiting not out of fear, but of expectation, and then moving in that Spirit to the extent that even we, too, are in a very real sense fruit of their harvest.

There is, of course, a fourth group of people: us. We, too, are all together in one place. We are, at once, children of Babel, of the upper room, and of the Spirit. We long for the ideal of Pentecost, but we often revisit the anxiety of Babel, the fear of the upper room.  Like the disciples, we may at times be paralyzed by fear, uncertainty, and shame. We may feel that there is no way that God can possibly love us, much less use us in his Kingdom.  We do well to remember that the peace of Jesus and the promise of forgiveness that the church is called to proclaim applies to us too. We are not left as orphans.  “The Spirit himself bears witness that we are children of God, and if his children, then also his heirs.” (Rom 8:16-17, paraphrased). Our alienation from God- and from each other- is no more.

Alternatively, we may, like the people of Babel, be tempted to take matters into our own hands.  Seeing a rapidly paganizing culture, we may feel that we better take a stand. Seeing all these empty chairs at Saint Brendan’s, we may feel compelled to “save our church,” to make a name for ourselves lest we be scattered. Neither are bad in and of themselves, just as cities and towers aren’t bad. The issue is always our intent, what’s really driving us. Peter wanted to build booths on the Mount of Transfiguration, and hastily grabbed a sword in the garden. We can be a lot like him, if we’re not careful. The invitation today is this: self-driven building projects can all come to an end. We can trust Jesus, who says “I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overpower it.” (Mt 16:18, NET), and elsewhere, “Don’t be afraid, little flock. For it gives your Father great happiness to give you the Kingdom.” (Luke 12:32, NLT)

At times, we can also be Spirit people- Pentecost people.  Realizing we have been given a name, realizing that the promise to Abraham is coming true, we can actually practice waiting on the Lord. Waiting for the fullness of time, until the direction is clear, until we are clothed with power from on high. We can become people who learn to respond to God- his love and initiative- instead of merely asking him to baptize the plans we have made out of our own hopes, fears, and anxieties. It requires no small amount of trust, patience, wisdom, and Christian maturity.  In other words, in requires a new way of life, given to us by Jesus and His Spirit. The promise of Pentecost, it seems to me, is this: in a world which constantly cries out “Don’t just sit there, do something!” we are given the opportunity to not just do something, but sit here. We are invited to confidently rest in the presence of our God who is making all things new.  We have our role to play, it is certain, but the Lord always takes the lead, always has the initiative, not us. All is vain unless the Spirit of the Holy One comes down. Henri Nouwen puts it this way:

This is the mystery of the Christian life… a new self, a new identity depends not on what we can achieve, but on what we are willing to receive.