Sermon on John 14:8-17

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Happy Birthday, Church!

Today is Pentecost Sunday, when we remember the gift of the Holy Spirit.

We heard the traditional Pentecost reading from Acts this morning, when the Holy Spirit arrived dramatically with wind and fire and a plethora of languages.

But until that point, the disciples were kind of hanging around, trying to figure out what was next. Jesus had died, risen again, and then ascended, leaving his disciples earth-bound and confused. Now what were they supposed to do?

This morning, we also heard yet again from Jesus’ Farewell Discourse in the Gospel of John: part of his final teachings to his disciples the night before he was arrested and executed.

Jesus was about to die. The disciples didn’t really understand what was about to happen, and Philip was like, “Just show us the Father, and we’ll know we’ll be okay. We’ll finally get it and be content.”

And Jesus was like, “Are you kidding me right now? What do you think I’ve been showing you for the past three years? You’re telling me now that you don’t get what I’ve been doing all this time?”

Okay, he didn’t say any of that.

But his life with the disciples wasn’t ever going to be the same after that night. He wouldn’t be with them physically in the same way he had been. And his disciples were obviously confused and having a hard time.

What were they supposed to do now?

Instead of saying, “Are you kidding me right now?”, Jesus promised to send them another Advocate or Comforter or Intercessor (depending on the translation), the Holy Spirit who would provide some of the same functions as Jesus had been doing for them: supporting them, defending them, praying for them, directing them toward ways of being that express God’s love.

The arrival of the Holy Spirit is different in the Gospel of John than in the book of Acts, and even in the book of Acts there are numerous accounts of the Holy Spirit being poured out on different groups of people.

Every year, we read about the arrival of the Holy Spirit in the Gospel of John on the Sunday after Easter. We often focus on Thomas’s part in that story, but at the beginning it talks about the disciples having locked themselves away because they were afraid of being arrested and executed too. Jesus appeared to them in that locked room, said “Peace be with you,” and then breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”

We’re often so focused on the risen Jesus (understandably) that we completely overlook the Holy Spirit’s role in that story. It’s more subtle, wrapped in the mystery of the resurrection.

Whether the Holy Spirit practically blows the door down and lights people on fire or is invited in with a gentle breath and a word of peace, Jesus’ followers would never be alone, never be apart from God’s presence.

Jesus’ promise to them was fulfilled. He wouldn’t be physically there with them in the same way, but the Holy Spirit would dwell in them, guiding them, teaching them, encouraging them, and defending them as Jesus had done for them during his ministry.

Through the Holy Spirit, they would continue Jesus’ mission to share God’s love with the world.

And the Church is still doing that today.

Though, as we talked about last week, we Christians aren’t always very unified or loving.

You don’t have to spend much time studying history to find some pretty horrifying things Christians have done in the name of God.

And it doesn’t take long reading the news or scrolling through social media to find some pretty unpleasant portrayals of Christianity, and often they’re justified.

Sometimes, my first reaction to someone finding out I’m a Christian is to want to say, “No! Not like that! I’m not that kind of Christian.”[Insert whatever unflattering, small-minded, unloving stereotype I’m afraid they’re imagining.]

And then sometimes this little voice starts whispering, “You know, you’re not that great of a Christian yourself:

·       Remember that person on the side of the road that you passed without a second glance?

·       Remember when you thought such mean things about that person who drives you crazy?

·       Remember the jealousy you felt about your friend’s new home remodel?

·       Remember those questions you have about God?

·       A real Christian wouldn’t have those feelings or those kinds of doubts. You’re a fraud, and everyone’s going to find out soon.”

That voice of imposter syndrome, doubt, or self-deprecationmakes it easy to be embarrassed about one’s identity as a Christian, to stay quiet when people make assumptions about Christians, to turn inward and become small.

But that’s not what we’re called to.

Whether the Holy Spirit showed up in our readingsdramatically or quietly, the disciples were sent.Jesus sent the disciples out of the locked room where they were hiding, and after the tongues of flame appeared on people’s foreheads, the Holy Spirit moved Peter to tell stories of Jesus so that the people who heard their own languages spoken wanted to be baptized. And the movement of Jesus followers grew, and right after this we get that beautiful image of the early Church’s cooperation and abundance:

“Awe came upon everyone because many wonders and signs were being done through the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people.”[1]

As beautiful as this image is, it probably didn’t last very long. Groups of humans aren’t great at staying unified and selflessly cooperative for very long.

But God knows this and still sent the early Jesus followers, with all their flaws and failings, out into the world to share their stories of Jesus and God’s love.

And God sends us, too. God knows our flaws and failings. God knows our doubts, which I see as a sign that we’re thinking deeply about important questions. God knows our heartaches, the ways we wish we could be better, the things we beat ourselves up over, and God loves us entirely.

And God sends us out, just as we are, to share that love with others.

We don’t have to have all the answers—in fact, people tend to be suspicious of people who act like they know all the answers.

You don’t have to pretend you don’t have doubts or questions—they make you human and genuine. And the world needs more of that: people who are honest and sincere. Who wants to be around someone who thinks they’re perfect anyway?

Give me someone who’s real about their questions and quirks any time.

Give me someone who’s passionate about things. I saw a lot of passion in the Project Pacifica group discussions two weeks ago. You care about this congregation—its mission to feed people body and soul, and our future together sharing God’s love with our community.

We’re not perfect, because no one is. But we can be genuine and generous, honest and honoring of God and our neighbors.

Anytime you start hearing that sneaky little imposter syndrome whisper, tell it, “I am a child of God. God loves me, and that’s enough.”

Because, you, children of God, are exactly what the Holy Spirit has in mind for this place and this time.

[1] Acts 2:43-47a