Do you really believe the stories in the books of Acts and in Genesis that we have just heard? Do you think they really happened? A tower – an unbelievable tower – was raised up, but the venture ended in disaster. The builders were scattered to the ends of the earth. Is this not a crude story, attempting to account for why diverse people speak different languages?
And what about that post-Resurrection experience? Do you really believe that people gathered together – people who were of different languages and different cultures – and suddenly communicated in a common tongue? is this not simply a crude attempt by the early church to express the hope for unity?
You’re right, in part. The story of Babel is a myth. The story of Pentecost is probably a myth. But you’re wrong if you reject it and forget the truth of a myth. As Thomas Mann once said: ‘Myth is a truth that is and always will be, no matter how much we try and say it was in the past.”
Did those people really think they could build a “from here-to-eternity” edifice? Did they think they could defy gravity, chance, human error, human sinfulness, God himself? Did they believe that by their furious activity, they could achieve everlasting security?
They did, and if so, are they any crazier than we are? We who keep coming up with new schemes for personal and national security. We who keep inventing what we call new paradigms – new ways, new values for handling life.
Personally, I am fascinated by the Babel building. Without their kind of self-deception – their kind of denial that often accompanies ambition – we would have no pyramids, no world trade centers, no magnificent art, no breathtaking symphonies. Only those who are crazy enough to push beyond the edge, only those who are willing to take risks, who dare to dream, who maintain visions, can wear the label of Babel.
“Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and make a name for ourselves.” Those are the words of an ambitious people – people who are success-oriented. They don’t want to just fake it, they want to make it, to be ”numero uno,” as a people and as individuals. And that’s not all bad.
How many of you would like to be operated on by a doctor who said, “I am just a run-of-the-mill surgeon. I’ll do an average job on you.”? Or how many of you would be comfortable flying on an airline on which the pilot announced: “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’ll try to get you to your destination, but I’m not the best pilot in the sky.”? No way. We want – we expect – the very best. We want the person who expects to be the top of his field – nothing less. We want an ambitious person, not one who has settled for being average
Before turning to the New Testament story of Pentecost, let me point out that the two characteristics of youth are ambition and idealism. When we are young, the world is our oyster. We want to be the very best we can be. We want to succeed in ways beyond anything that has happened before. And we want to do all this for the sake of or for the good of humanity. We don’t just have a job – we have a career. We’re not concerned with doing our task until retirement. We have a vocation, a calling, a commitment that is forever and will make an impact on future generations. And we believe we can do it – “Save the World,” “Convert the Heathen,” “Discover the Cure.” Ambition and idealism – they are the stuff of youthful dreams.
Now let’s turn to the picture of Pentecost. It is an idealized picture where people of many languages come together and are able to communicate – where a sense of wholeness overcomes natural separations – where the spirit speaks a heart language that breaks down the walls of class and nation, where no one is an “ethnic” and all are one.
Now you and I know this vision is simply an illusion. As Americans, we hope that all those people on this first Pentecost spoke English or we’d be lost. You know the old joke: ‘What’s a person who speaks three languages called? Trilingual. What’s a person who is fluent in two languages called? Bilingual. What’s a person who can only speak one language called? An American.
But Pentecost, that’s an idealized picture. I doubt if there were Americans present. Suddenly, everyone spoke the same language – or to put it in terms we can grasp, everyone communicated. All of God’s people spoke the language of the heart. I think this is what is meant when we say we may not be of one mind in the church (language is the vehicle of communication of the mind), but, God willing, we are all of one heart (the spirit is the vehicle of the heart). Pentecost – where suddenly separated people were transformed and an idyllic situation was created.
Babel and Pentecost – they are myths – idealism and ambition, parts of the youthful condition. What really happens as we get older is that idealism is the first to be dropped. We talk of idealism as the illusion of youth. We quickly become cynical as we experience frustration. And then we forget the youthful ideals. But we still hang on to part of our ambition – when, in fact, we should abandon the ambition and hold on to the idealism
It’s easier to build a tower than to break down barriers and speak with one voice. When we are young, we want to do something great for the world. When we get older, we settle for doing something good for ourselves. When we are young, we want to give of ourselves for humanity’s sake. When we get older, we simply want to prove to others that we have something to give. mellow, in the process of aging, we forget – we have amnesia. The idealism of youth departs. The ambition of youth is scaled down. We no longer remember as we face the reality of “getting older.”
It is our task this morning to remind ourselves of the traditions of Pentecost and Babel. These are traditions that we have put aside as we’ve gotten more cynical and skeptical. These are traditions that are rich and important for the people of God.
There is a wonderful Hasidic story about a man who received news that a relative had died and had left him a substantial piece of property. All he had to do was contact his rabbi to receive the inheritance. So he went to see the rabbi, who told him: ‘You’re absolutely right. Your relative is the prophet Moses. And the treasure is the Jewish tradition.” The story ends with an analysis and an admonition. The man was woefully ignorant of his own inheritance. Don’t let us be. Often, we are like that. We sit on enormous treasures without realizing their worth. We have the traditions of Pentecost and Babel. The Babel custom needs to be monitored, with boundaries set upon it. The Pentecost needs to be remembered.
Every once in a while, we have experiences that remind us of these myths. Two weeks ago, I attended a multicultural conference on starting and sustaining ethnic congregations. I was there because of San Pedro – our Hispanic congregation, which hopes to enlarge. Each day in the conference, we worshipped in a different tradition – Asian, Native American, African American, and Hispanic. At the end of each worship experience, their leader would invite us to hold hands and say the Lord’s Prayer in our native tongue – Korean, Pakistani, Hawaiian, Navajo, Chinese, English, Spanish. As the words were said, I felt a spirit rise within me. And an amazing thing happened each day – we all ended together, and then there was a silence. And the spirit seemed to whisper to us: ‘We are one! We are one!” And if we were to build on this experience, we could speak the language of the poor, understand the rich, listen to the voice of Koreans and Latinos, and affirm that we are children of a creator who loves us all as if we were one.
May the Lord, on this day of Pentecost, renew in us the idealism and ambition of youth. May the Lord give us a vision where we are one. May the Lord take our minds and think through them, take our lips and speak through them. May the Lord take our hearts and set them free.
Amen