Pentecost, 2016
15/05/16 05:29
Christians, Jews and Muslims all share a common set of stories. We often call them the Old Testament or Hebrew Scriptures. One of the foundation stories in that set appears at the beginning of the 11th chapter of Genesis. It is classified by scholars as an etiological story: one that explains the origins of something. This story explains the differences in language, culture, and understanding among people.
The story is that after the great flood, the survivors became a group of people with a common language, a common story and common culture. They decided to build a great city with a great tower and forgot their dependence upon God. They had many skilled craftspeople and visionaries and believed that they could be completely self reliant. The construction of the tower, however, proved to be disastrous. There were too many different visions and too many different leaders and the taller the tower got the less reliable it got. Some wanted things one way, some wanted things another way. Some saw one solution to the problems that cropped up in construction. Others saw different solutions. It was as if they weren’t even speaking the same language. And then they really weren’t speaking a common language. The tower collapsed into a jumble of building materials and the culture collapsed into a jumble of different languages, cultures and stories.
One of the faiths that emerged from the Hebrew Scriptures, Christianity, has a “bookend” story. There is the story of the Tower of Babel in Genesis and then, in the Christian Scriptures, the second chapter of the book of acts reports that people of all of the different languages and cultures and traditions that had developed were gathered in a common room when the gift of the Holy Spirit was given. The experience was difficult even for those who were present to describe. Some described the sound of a mighty wind. Others described tongues, as of fire, resting on each person. With all of the languages and cultures and stories that were present confusion might have been expected. What happened, however, was that a common understanding emerged. Everybody present heard the good news of Jesus Christ in a language that they could understand. Despite different languages, cultures and traditions a common story of understanding Jesus as Savior resulted from the event.
I have been thinking of language over the past few days because we are so enjoying our granddaughter. Not quite two, she is vocalizing a lot and we have been making lists of the words that she is saying. She seems to understand our speech, but not every sound that comes out of her mouth is language that we can interpret. She is very good at making her needs and wants clear, and she can say the names of a lot of things, but sometimes she uses a combination of gestures, words, squeaks and squeals in place of sentences and paragraphs. It is clear that a common language is emerging. Like our people’s stories of Pentecost, our family has common core values and commitments that we can see in all of our members.
Our granddaughter is vigilant about justice. She pays attention to the privilege of age that her brother has acquired and is quick to act for equal privilege. She is a seasoned partitioner of the art of learning by imitation and wants to eat real food, not baby food; play with real toys, not baby toys; and participate fully in all of the activities and adventures of the family. On every adventure we’ve experienced in our visit, she is right in the middle of the action participating fully.
Still, there is the matter of perspective. Each member of the family sees things from a different point of view. When we went to the market, she insisted on walking for herself much of the time, but saw everything from very close to the floor. While we were looking at fruits and vegetables and baked goods she was focused on the texture of the floor and items that had been dropped from the bins above. A couple of times I had to squat down as low as possible without tipping over to catch her point of view.
Our grandson, who is five, has grasped a much larger slice of the family story. While his sister calls my wife and I “mama” and “dada” just like her parents, he understands the concept of “Poppa Ted” and “Grandma Susan.” He knows that we are the parents of his father and that his father lived with us when he was a boy. Still, we can tell he is working out how all of that transpired. Yesterday, when I got in the driver’s seat of one of his family’s cars, he quizzed me about my qualifications to be a driver. He wanted to make sure that I possessed the skills his parents had. Later, when we made a small adjustment of the height of the seat of his bicycle he asked me, “Did my dad teach you how to use tools?” When you think about it, his question makes sense. The adults in his world share a common set of skills. All of the adults in his world know how to drive and cook and use the household appliances. All of them can do things that he cannot yet do such as make simple repairs and lift heavy objects. How they acquired those skills is not yet clear. But he also knows that people become skillful through the process of teaching and learning. It makes sense to him that his father might have taught me how to drive a car or manipulate tools. After all, if his father or mother is present when we go somewhere, they are the ones to do the driving while Poppa and Grandma sit next to the kids in the back of the car.
Today as we celebrate the festival of Pentecost in the church, I am deeply aware of the pentecost emergences in family life. By sharing common experiences, a common language, a common worldview and a common set of values are emerging. Truly the spirit continues to do its work.
The story is that after the great flood, the survivors became a group of people with a common language, a common story and common culture. They decided to build a great city with a great tower and forgot their dependence upon God. They had many skilled craftspeople and visionaries and believed that they could be completely self reliant. The construction of the tower, however, proved to be disastrous. There were too many different visions and too many different leaders and the taller the tower got the less reliable it got. Some wanted things one way, some wanted things another way. Some saw one solution to the problems that cropped up in construction. Others saw different solutions. It was as if they weren’t even speaking the same language. And then they really weren’t speaking a common language. The tower collapsed into a jumble of building materials and the culture collapsed into a jumble of different languages, cultures and stories.
One of the faiths that emerged from the Hebrew Scriptures, Christianity, has a “bookend” story. There is the story of the Tower of Babel in Genesis and then, in the Christian Scriptures, the second chapter of the book of acts reports that people of all of the different languages and cultures and traditions that had developed were gathered in a common room when the gift of the Holy Spirit was given. The experience was difficult even for those who were present to describe. Some described the sound of a mighty wind. Others described tongues, as of fire, resting on each person. With all of the languages and cultures and stories that were present confusion might have been expected. What happened, however, was that a common understanding emerged. Everybody present heard the good news of Jesus Christ in a language that they could understand. Despite different languages, cultures and traditions a common story of understanding Jesus as Savior resulted from the event.
I have been thinking of language over the past few days because we are so enjoying our granddaughter. Not quite two, she is vocalizing a lot and we have been making lists of the words that she is saying. She seems to understand our speech, but not every sound that comes out of her mouth is language that we can interpret. She is very good at making her needs and wants clear, and she can say the names of a lot of things, but sometimes she uses a combination of gestures, words, squeaks and squeals in place of sentences and paragraphs. It is clear that a common language is emerging. Like our people’s stories of Pentecost, our family has common core values and commitments that we can see in all of our members.
Our granddaughter is vigilant about justice. She pays attention to the privilege of age that her brother has acquired and is quick to act for equal privilege. She is a seasoned partitioner of the art of learning by imitation and wants to eat real food, not baby food; play with real toys, not baby toys; and participate fully in all of the activities and adventures of the family. On every adventure we’ve experienced in our visit, she is right in the middle of the action participating fully.
Still, there is the matter of perspective. Each member of the family sees things from a different point of view. When we went to the market, she insisted on walking for herself much of the time, but saw everything from very close to the floor. While we were looking at fruits and vegetables and baked goods she was focused on the texture of the floor and items that had been dropped from the bins above. A couple of times I had to squat down as low as possible without tipping over to catch her point of view.
Our grandson, who is five, has grasped a much larger slice of the family story. While his sister calls my wife and I “mama” and “dada” just like her parents, he understands the concept of “Poppa Ted” and “Grandma Susan.” He knows that we are the parents of his father and that his father lived with us when he was a boy. Still, we can tell he is working out how all of that transpired. Yesterday, when I got in the driver’s seat of one of his family’s cars, he quizzed me about my qualifications to be a driver. He wanted to make sure that I possessed the skills his parents had. Later, when we made a small adjustment of the height of the seat of his bicycle he asked me, “Did my dad teach you how to use tools?” When you think about it, his question makes sense. The adults in his world share a common set of skills. All of the adults in his world know how to drive and cook and use the household appliances. All of them can do things that he cannot yet do such as make simple repairs and lift heavy objects. How they acquired those skills is not yet clear. But he also knows that people become skillful through the process of teaching and learning. It makes sense to him that his father might have taught me how to drive a car or manipulate tools. After all, if his father or mother is present when we go somewhere, they are the ones to do the driving while Poppa and Grandma sit next to the kids in the back of the car.
Today as we celebrate the festival of Pentecost in the church, I am deeply aware of the pentecost emergences in family life. By sharing common experiences, a common language, a common worldview and a common set of values are emerging. Truly the spirit continues to do its work.