Sermons from the Pulpit

Numbers 11:16-17, 24-29; Acts 2:1-18; I Corinthians 12:3b-13

A young man ran and told Moses, "Eldad and Medad are prophesying in the camp." -Numbers 11:27

     That young man was a tattletale, wasn’t he? A stool pigeon. This is a very dumb thing for him to do. The young are not supposed to be so cozy with authority figures. They bond with each other in opposition to the powers and principalities of the world. But this young man squeals on Eldad and Medad.

    He was probably the kind of kid who was actually eager to get confirmed, while all his classmates barely tolerated confirmation and looked upon it as a huge plot between their parents and the church to co-opt and control them, to silence their authentic voices and make them think and perceive and act and speak like their parents and other old fogeys.

    What is the voice of authentic youth, of youth that is being true to itself? Isn’t it a voice that can only be understood by others in the same boat, a voice that is gibberish to the ears of the older generation? One of the worst things that can happen to you is to be understood by people whose mis understanding of you is vital to your self-understanding.

    But what would it be like if nobody understood you? If you opened your mouth and spoke from your heart, and everyone who could hear you was puzzled, or worse, amused or dismissive or clinically patronizing. I don’t think anyone, young or old, could thrive on that. We’ve all seen far too much lately of what a desperate predicament that is, and what awful things it can lead to.

    Eldad and Medad were prophesying in the camp, where all the people could hear them. That means they were speaking. I wish we knew just what they were saying, but we don’t. All we know is that they were prophesying. Prophesying is not fortune-telling. It’s inspired speech, inspired by the Holy Spirit, true speech, speech that cuts through polite pleasantries and conventional wisdom and tells it like it is about the important things, the fundamental things, the deep things. Speech that brings speaker and hearer closer to the heart of things and therefore closer to God. Speech that is a gift from God to the speaker and to the hearer.

    Eldad and Medad, or anyone who receives an inspiration, could choose not to speak for fear of being misunderstood or unheard. In fact, they were misunderstood and unheard by this very young man, who did not hear what they were saying, but heard only rebellion, and ran to tell Moses. But this danger did not deter Eldad and Medad; evidently the Spirit made them brave as well as eloquent.

    Make no mistake, it does take courage to allow the voice that God gave you to well up and speak. There will always be someone who expected and wanted you to say something else, or just to shut up. When you violate those desires and expectations, you invite trouble. Trust me on this. I should know.

    So this is Pentecost: a miracle not only of eloquence but of boldness. Having chosen this of all days to inflict confirmation on these eight young prophets, let us not be surprised or displeased with them if they begin to tell the truth about themselves and us and the universe and God in ways that we cannot ignore.

    They may have come forward this morning to please or mollify their elders, who thought to tame and channel their restless, questing spirits, and there is nothing wrong with that on either side. both old and young are concerned for each other and wish each other well. But Pentecost cannot be tamed, and the Spirit does not care what we want or expect to hear, only what is true and what we need to hear. And this is the very Spirit which we have just invoked for them by prayer and the laying on of our hands, our sweaty, nervous hands.

    We fear authentic speech with good reason. It never fails to threaten us, to expose us, to summon us, to upset us, to change us, whether as speakers or as hearers. But in fact the absence of authentic speech, or the presence of false speech, is far more to be feared. It allows, indeed it forces young people and old, male and female, normal and weird, serious and playful, to put themselves and each other in separate compartments, avoiding communion for the sake of harmony, strengthening the Devil’s hand.

    To have a voice and use it, to hear a voice, to have one’s voice be heard: there is no greater gift that God has ever given to any creature. Remember that next time someone in your family or your church or your circle of friends says something you don’t want to hear. Remember to be at least a little suspicious that it may be the Holy Spirit giving that very utterance, although not necessarily. Remember how much worse it could be if the necessary eloquence or courage were lacking, how much worse it often is because they are so often lacking. Remember to thank God constantly for all the messy and inconvenient ways in which we are each of us able, in some fashion or other, to have a voice.