Frosty the Snowman and the Pentecost

I love Christmas television specials.

I love the nostalgia of them, I love the anticipation of the season they bring.

I love getting under a blanket, on a usually uncrowded couch since the kids have long moved onto other interests, and sitting there, watching those shmaltzy Rankin Bass stop-motion animated shows.

Put one of those Christmas specials on and I am immediately transported to those days when my children were younger, even transported back to my own youth when I snuggle up on a different couch in a different house.

My parents were younger than I am now but always seemed older.

And we would watch Rudolf or my favorite, “The Night Before Christmas.”

And always early in the Christmas season, Frosty the Snowman would air on tv, usually before the winter weather hit and so it was anticipatory as well.

My brother and I would look forward to snow days and sledding down the hill in front of our house.

Frosty was about a loveable snowman who came to life because a magic hat was placed on his head.

If that hat blew away, Frosty would return to being just a lifeless mass of snow and carrots and coal.

But return the hat, and he would return to life, exclaiming, “Happy birthday!”

Every time.

Hat is on his head, “Happy birthday.”

Hat falls off or is stolen by the evil Professor Hinkle, and Frosty goes dark.

The hat returns, “Happy birthday!”

I loved that show.

That silly snowman.

And the combination of anticipation, anticipation for the winter, and the reminder of my then favorite holiday, my birthday.

Happy birthday!

Today is the birthday of the church.

It is the day when many were gathered on the Pentecost, which literally means 50 days in Hebrew, 50 days after Passover.

And these folks were gathered as is commanded by Leviticus to offer grain offerings to the Lord and along with those grain offerings, they would have brought lambs bulls and goats.

This would have been a very busy and noisy gathering.

They were gathered from all over, too.

There were Parthians, Medians, Elamites, Mesopotamians, Judeans, Cappadocians, Pontusians, Asians, Phrygians, Pamphylians, Egyptians, Cyrenes, and Romans.

Imagine the cacophony of sound, goats bleating, bulls mooing, Epyptian fathers admonishing their sons to sit still, Elamite mothers shooing an errant lamb away, the lamb responding with a high-pitched and insistent baah.

All gathered to worship and give sacrifice to the lord in celebration of the harvest.

I am picturing Rick’s Café Amaericain in Casablanca, a waystation for pilgrims, a slowing spot for rest and celebration before returning home.

And then the scene changes.

They begin speaking in each other’s languages.

No longer is the Parthian speaking the language of the Parthians, but instead perhaps they are speaking Mesopotamian.

Cyrenes speaking Egyptian.

Pamphylians speaking Cappadocian and so on.

And they are amazed.

Divided tongues as if tongues of fire appear and each one is touch by a separate tongue, they are speaking a language just previously unknown to them.

How?

How is this happening?

Everyone around them is amazed as well, are they speaking gibberish, are they speaking in tongues?

Amazed.

Or skeptical.

They must be drunk, some growse.

Because what other explanation could there be?

And then there’s Peter, saying, “No, no. They’re not drunk, it’s only 9 in the morning.”

I wonder if Peter ever heard of a Mimosa.

Setting that aside, Peter quotes the prophet Joel as evidence that this is the Spirit flying amongst her people.

And the portion of Joel that Peter cites is important, for Joel is talking about liberation, freedom from Northern armies and an excess of food and happiness is coming for God’s people.

Just before the verse Peter cited, Joel wrote, “You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel and that I, the Lord, am your God and there is no other. And my people shall never again be put to shame.”

This is freedom.

This is liberation.

And the Spirit’s presence is evidence of that liberation, of that freedom.

The people are awakened to the Spirit.

They speak in foreign tongues and they understand each other.

A church of new believers, at least a hundred and twenty if we are to think they are the same believers mentioned in the first chapter of Acts, has been visited by the Spirit just as Jesus promised before his ascension.

New believers and from that morning forward, a new church.

Happy birthday!

How refreshing!

How wonderful!

A new church with which to look at the world with new eyes.

Happy birthday!

And these followers went on to build a wonderful church, a church where the believers gave everything to their church and worshipped and ate together, studying scripture and creating ministry.

Over time that church changed.

Parts of it became the church of empire, other parts remained separate from the mainstream, creating enclaves of difference and making a difference.

And for two thousand years, this church existed and did great things and did bad things and mostly brought many to the table of the Lord.

And now I wonder if it is time to begin seeking out the Spirit once again.

To find that magic hat, place it on our heads, and exclaim: “Happy birthday!”

I so feel the Spirit in this place and I so feel it too asking us to seek out other voices, other tongues, and learn to speak them as they were our own.

Perhaps it is returning to our roots, but it feels so new leaving the doors of this building this morning to bless the fields and the farmers of our town.

We also introduced a new idea last week about going to worship at the Cathedral on the fifth Sunday of months when they occur.

It is an idea where some of us might travel into Hartford in July and October to worship with our Cathedral congregation, the lectors might be from St. Luke’s the priest will be from the Cathedral.

Others, those who don’t necessarily want to drive into Hartford on a Sunday, will be invited to watch the livestream of the service in the Undercroft, sharing coffee, Danish, and fellowship, (no mimosas please.)

This idea might not stick.

Maybe there is not much interest in worshipping at the Cathedral, but we are trying on the idea.

We are trying on a different way of speaking, of how we do church.

We are calling down tongues of fire to touch us and help us imagine a new church, a vital church, small or large, a holy church.

Happy birthday!

This is a time of declining church attendance, of closing churches and merging churches, etc.

And never has there been more opportunity to reach out to those searching for that thing that is missing in a busy world of work and family obligations and soccer practices and music lessons and project deadlines.

We can be a place of respite for those who looking for rest.

We can take on the evils of this world as Christians are charged to do through love and companionship.

We can speak in many tongues and understand all of them.

Yet for us to do so, we must bend to those looking.

Search for those wandering.

Evangelize to the wondering.

And we can partner with the like-minded; we can be the dynamic church we all imagine us to be if we reach out, if we extend our arms past those doors and reach out toward this community, this state, the world.

The Spirit has not left, the Spirit still flies.

That is the promise of Pentecost, this day is not a memorial to times past, it is a reminder of the future we face when we allow our very selves to be moved by the Spirit, allow our hearts to be changed by God.

The story of Pentecost is one of understanding each other in all of our diversity, in all of our glorious differences, infused with love and passion by the Spirit and still communicating with each other.

It’s as if the spirit is telling us to seek out those different from us.

To engage with those who would hate us.

And ultimately remove the idea that there is such a thing as us and them at all.

That we are all one, that we are all seen as one by God, for the Spirit flies amongst us giving the gift of understanding to each other in whatever language we speak.

We need not participate in the anger that so infects us as a people at this point in history, but we can try to understand it and share a message of love.

Love being the most radical act we can perform.

This is a time of becoming a new church, similar to the old church and made for these times.

The message has not changed.

Love is the message.

Only now it is the time to try, to maybe fail.

And then try again.

Try out a new ministry while saying, “Happy birthday.”

Maybe that ministry does not succeed.

Try again.

Happy birthday!

Our hopes, our dreams for this parish will only come to fruition if we try.

The Spirit flies and flies through you.

You are this church, we are this church.

We can change the conversation, we can bring calm to anger, we can change the world for good and for God.

A happy Pentecost to all.

And many, many, happy birthdays!