Now that we’re over halfway through the First Testament in this cycle of the Narrative Lectionary, it’s worth remembering where we’ve come from before we find out where we’re going next. We began this Lectionary Year with the second creation story in Genesis, considering what was dysfunctional about the relationship between Adam and Eve. Then, we skipped ahead to Abraham and Sarah’s communication problems, which were uncovered when they learned that they would have a son despite their age. Next, we spent a week with their grandson, Jacob, who would apparently prefer to wrestle with a stranger than have a conversation with him. After that, we picked up the story many years later with Moses and his excuses about why he shouldn’t have to free God’s people. We fast-forwarded past the plagues, the Exodus, and the Israelites wandering in the desert, and then we heard part of Moses’ final speech to the Hebrews, where he begged them to pretty please remember that there’s only one God and that it’s SO IMPORTANT to follow God’s commandments (spoiler alert: it doesn’t work). And finally, we spent last week with Ruth and Naomi in the time of the Judges, after the Israelites had settled into their new home and, as scripture puts it, “there was no king in Israel, [so] people did whatever they felt like doing.”[1]
Phew. That’s a lot of ground to cover in six weeks. Looking at the history of God’s people from a bird’s eye view like this, a theme begins to emerge – it turns out that human beings are really bad at living together. We just keep messing it up. Despite our best intentions and God’s best efforts, human beings are forgetful, selfish, combative, and divisive.
Baptism is one of the most recognizable Christian rituals, possibly because it’s also one of the oldest. The form and function of many of our other traditions – hymn singing, corporate prayer, marriages, funerals, the liturgical year, and so on – are all relatively new; they’ve developed into their current form only after centuries of theological discernment and identity building. Baptism, on the other hand, has been practiced since the days of the Bible, with its form remaining more or less unchanged from what was handed down to us in Matthew’s gospel: we baptize with water (as demonstrated at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry in Matthew 3) and in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (as established towards the end, in Matthew 28). There remain, of course, plenty of disputes throughout modern Christendom about the specific prayers included, the age required to be baptized, and whether to sprinkle, dunk, or immerse, but the basic elements have remained largely unchanged for over 2000 years.
When I was very young – I don’t remember exactly how old, but the memory is fuzzy, so it must have been a long time ago – I learned an important lesson about paper currency. I think what had happened was that my mom had given me a one-dollar bill to take to the corner store so that my friend and I could get some candy (it’s hard to believe, but you could still get some types of candy for a few cents in those days). Now, I knew that the money was intended for us to share equally, and I didn’t want one of us to accidentally benefit from our resources unfairly. Although we were making the trip together, we’d be making our candy selections independently once we arrived, so I did what seemed to me to be the fairest solution: I ripped the bill in half.
Ever since the first time I realized the parallels between the stories of Babel and Pentecost, I’ve struggled to make sense out of it. In Genesis, it kind of seems like God’s just creating trouble where there isn’t any. After all, the Holy Spirit would never have had to do that translation trick at Pentecost if God had just let the people keep their unified language in the first place. Things seemed to be working just fine; the people were on track to build the first skyscraper millennia ahead of schedule and, more importantly, they all seemed to be getting along and cooperating. It’s difficult to imagine why God would want to put a stop to any of that, especially in light of God’s contradictory actions at Pentecost.
I feel compelled to begin my sermon today with a disclaimer. Nothing I say here today will be a new idea. None of this is groundbreaking. The thoughts that I’m sharing with you this morning occurred to me immediately after reading the scripture passages, and then nearly every commentary I read afterward affirmed them—which leads me to believe that this particular interpretation of Pentecost is based in a deeper, already-known truth. But you can judge for yourself.
