Sermon on Acts 2:1-11. Pentecost

The Spirit rested upon two men, one named Eldad and the other named Medad, and they prophesied. We heard this from the book of Numbers last night at Vespers. The Holy Spirit has spoken through the prophets. Long before Pentecost, the Holy Spirit was already inspiring and speaking to his people. Joshua suggested to Moses that he forbid Eldad and Medad from prophesying, but Moses replied, “Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets and that the Lord would put his Spirit upon them!” (Numbers 11).

The prophet Joel prophesied and the Lord spoke through him saying, “It shall come to pass afterward that I will pour out my spirit on all flesh. Your sons and daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions. Even upon the menservants and maidservants in those days, I will pour out my spirit.” (Joel 2). We also heard this at Vespers.

Beginning with Pentecost and continuing until this very day, the desire of Moses and the prophecy of Joel is coming to fruition. The Lord is putting his Spirit upon all his people. The Lord is pouring out his Spirit upon all flesh. Yes, even upon you! And even upon me. The word of both Moses & Joel, prophets of the Lord, is “all,” not “some.”

This is happening here and now just as it happened on Pentecost. That is to say, the Holy Spirit is descending upon us here in this place. While I am praying the anaphora in a few moments, listen for these words: I will pray to the Father, “We implore, pray, and entreat you: send down your Holy Spirit upon us and upon these gifts lying before us.” It is by the power of the Holy Spirit that bread and wine are changed into the body and blood of Christ. That is a miracle every bit as astonishing at the mighty wind and the tongues of fire resting upon each apostle on Pentecost (Acts 2).

Then I will pray for those who partake of the body and blood of Christ, that they may bring us into “the communion of the Holy Spirit.”

In thinking about the holy eucharist, maybe some of us tend to focus on the holy gifts themselves almost in isolation from what they are accomplishing in us. It needs to be pointed out that we pray not only for the Holy Spirit to come down upon the gifts, but first of all to come down upon us. “Send down your Holy Spirit upon us – and [then also] upon these gifts lying before us.”

The Holy Spirit changes the bread and wine into Jesus Christ so that by eating his body and drinking his blood we may be made one with Jesus Christ and filled with the Holy Spirit. Not for the purpose of resting in the tabernacle, but for the purpose of being joined to us for our salvation and our theosis.

As the great liturgical theologian, Fr. Robert Taft (of blessed memory) once said, “The purpose of the Eucharist isn’t to change bread and wine into Jesus Christ. It’s to change you and me into Jesus Christ.” And to that I would add on this Great Feast of Pentecost, it is to fill us with the Holy Spirit, as is evident from the eucharistic prayer itself.

One of the images of the presence of the Holy Spirit at this Divine Liturgy is that of fire. We light the oil lamps and candles when we pray for good reason. On Pentecost, there appeared to the apostles “tongues as of fire, distributed and resting on each one of them.” You can see this moment in the holy icon for this feast on the tetrapod. “And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit.”

There are more images of fire surrounding us as well. We have icons over my head of the seraphim as they were described by the prophet Isaiah with their six wings. Well, the seraphim are the fiery ones. Seraphim means “the ones who are on fire.” I submit that this is because they are in close communion with the Holy Spirit, and fire is an image of his presence. During the anaphora, we sing the hymn of these fiery angels, which Isaiah heard: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts. Heaven and earth are filled with your glory” (Isaiah 6:3).

One of the seraphim flew to Isaiah, “having in his hand a burning coal which he had taken with tongs from the altar, and with it he touched Isaiah’s mouth and said to him, “Behold this has touched your lips and will take away your iniquities and will cleanse your sins.” (Isaiah 6:7) These words are also familiar to us, as we hear them after partaking of the most holy gifts of the eucharist. The communion spoon with which the priest gives communion is like the tongs with which the seraphim takes the burning coal from the altar and the burning coal itself is an image of the holy eucharist. It burns away our sin and fills us with the Holy Spirit.

It was through this experience that Isaiah received his calling as a prophet. His mouth was touched with fire – reminiscent of the tongues of fire on Pentecost, and of what the Lord said to Jeremiah: “Behold, I am making my words in your mouth a fire.”

When we received holy communion, we are receiving that same prophetic calling. This eucharistic liturgy, which we are now celebrating, is one of the ways in which the Lord is fulfilling the prophecy of Joel and pouring out his spirit upon all flesh. May he also turn us all into his prophets, as Moses desired.

A prophet is one who makes known the presence and the will of the Lord through both words and actions. Paul teaches us to earnestly desire this gift of prophecy, just as Moses desired it for all. Paul writes, “Make love your aim, and earnestly desire the spiritual gifts, especially that you may prophesy” (1 Cor 14:1). I like that he begins with love. Love is the will of God and his greatest commandment. Loving others is the first step toward prophesying to them. If you do not love someone, you cannot hope to prophecy to them.

Paul continues on to say, “He who prophesies speaks to men for their upbuilding and encouragement and consolation” (1 Cor 14:3). This is love indeed. Let us begin with love, receive the fire of the Holy Spirit through the holy mysteries, especially the most holy eucharist, prophesy, and speak the truth with love to all the world.

My uncle Frank died last week. And yesterday we buried Maria, a sister of the Rosens and a cousin of the Burjas. And, as Father Deacon Lawrence mentioned last week, Rick, the Deacon and Doctor and Carpenter who was making some new tables for our holy place, also died recently. Death is all around us, occurs regularly and inconveniently, and comes for us all. We know not when.

In a Byzantine funeral, we read several Gospels. There may be a gospel read at the home (or, these days, at the funeral home) just before the body is taken to the Church. Actually, I am told that in the old village churches, the custom was to walk and to carry the body in procession from the home to the church and to stop three times on the way and each time to read a gospel. When the body arrives in the narthex of the church, there in the narthex, before we carry the body into the nave, we read a gospel. Then, after we sing the Beatitudes, there are readings, including a gospel. Then, when the funeral in the church is ended, we recess back to the narthex and there, before the body is taken from the church, we read a gospel. Then, at the graveside, before the interment itself, we may read a gospel.

By my count, that makes up to seven gospel readings over the body of a departed Byzantine Catholic. Perhaps this is the reason that our funeral books provide seven gospel readings to choose from. I do not know. Now, you may say that you have been to a Byzantine funeral and you do not recall hearing so many gospel readings. True. Many of these readings are listed as optional and we do not always choose to read them. And because of the realities of modern life, we now seldom-to-never walk in procession from the home of the departed person to the church with their body and so the opportunity to read gospels during this procession is lost. Nonetheless, if you have been to a Byzantine funeral, I expect you have heard at least three gospels read over the body of the departed. Why so much Gospel reading to the dead? Can the dead hear the gospel? And, make no mistake, these proclamations of the Gospel are addressed to the person in the casket or the coffin every bit as much as they are addressed to those who have come to mourn and pray.

The departed one is a participant in the funeral. They are with us in the church not only in spirit but also in body one last time. The funeral is the last service they attend in the body until their Resurrection. This is one reason why we do not encourage cremation and, even if the body is to be cremated for unavoidable reasons, that we would have the funeral in the church with the body before the cremation.

With regards to the cremation question, please do not mistake me. This can be misunderstood in superstitious ways. So let me tell you something clearly. When God says to ashes, “Become a living man,” they do. It wouldn’t be the first time, remember, that God made a man out of dust. He can do that sort of thing.

When the dead are reduced to dry bones, the Lord knows that even then they can live. The Lord told Ezekiel to prophesy to dry bones in the valley and say, “O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord… Behold, I will cause breath to enter you and you shall live. And I will lay sinews upon you, and cause flesh to come upon you and cover you with skin and put breath in you and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.” And when Ezekiel had thus prophesied, “there was a noise, and behold, a rattling; and the bones came together, bone to its bone. And… there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them… and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood upon their feet, an exceedingly great host.” (Ez. 37:1-14) We read this from Ezekiel at Jerusalem Matins, which is the funeral of Christ and my favorite service of Holy Week.

The word of God is mighty over all creation. Even dry bones hear the word of God and stand up. And there is no question or fear that the cremated will not rise. They will rise as surely as any will rise. They will rise first before the living to meet the Lord in the air (1 Thess 4:16-17). So please do not mistake what I have been saying. Rather it is a question of sensibility and symbol. A symbol by the way is a presentation of reality and not merely a signpost. If we really believe that this person will arise as surely as did the son of the Widow of Nain in today’s gospel, and we really understand and meditate upon that for a long time, I don’t think our instinct will be to burn their body until it is reduced to ashes. It just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense from a resurrection perspective to do that to a body. It’s not going to stop the hand of God from raising them. We have no fear. And if you have cremated your loved ones, you have done no evil. Sometimes there is no other way and the Church understandingly permits this. It’s only that burial is a better way, as the Church has always recommended.

And it is better for the departed one to attend their own funeral in the body.

If you read carefully the prayers of the funeral, you will notice that many of them are written in the first-person singular. Not “we” but “I.” For example, we pray, “I am the image of your ineffable glory even though I bear the scars of my transgressions…. Grant me the homeland for which I yearn, and again make me a citizen of paradise.” Not all, but many of the prayers of our funeral are written this way. These are the prayers of the departed person lying among us, to which we give voice because they have lost the power to sing in the church. So we sing for them. We give voice to their prayer for them.

What’s the use of all of this? Do the dead hear the gospel? Can the dead pray to the Lord? Will the shades stand and praise you? (Ps. 88:10). Yes! And again I say yes. That is indeed the whole point.

We are not innovating when we proclaim the gospel to the dead. Rather, we are imitating Jesus Christ who proclaims the gospel to the dead. Today, he proclaims the gospel to the departed son of the Widow of Nain. He says to that young man, “Young man, I tell you, arise!” And the dead man sits up and begins to speak. That’s the gospel. That’s the good news. That, though you will die, Jesus will say to you, “Arise!” And you will sit up and begin to speak. That’s the gospel. That is what we’re praying for the person who lies among us at every funeral.

By the way, Jesus said this to the young man as he was being carried out in procession. And this is the gospel that we read as the body is being carried out of the church in procession at the end of the funeral. It is, for me, one of the most poignant moments of the funeral when I proclaim to the person as we are carrying them out, “Arise!” For I know that I am proclaiming, in that moment, the gospel. And the words coming out of my mouth are not my words but the words of Jesus Christ. And they will be obeyed. That person will arise. So, yes, we proclaim the gospel to the dead. The gospel is for them and the gospel is that death will have no dominion over them.

We often hear the expression, “I hope I live to see it.” And I think we know what we mean by that. I used to have some friends who would say, “I hope I live to see the Cubs win the World Series.” I grew up not too far from Chicago, you see. Well, as you may know, people don’t say that anymore. They might say “I hope I live to see the Cubs win the World Series again,” but that’s a whole other issue. Just the other day, Judy said to me that she hopes she lives to see the reunion of the Orthodox and Catholic Church. Amen. But I responded then, because I’m kind of a smart aleck, “You will! Because you will live forever.” That is the whole point. Death for us is no longer death. Death for us is, as Paul intimates, a sleep from which we will awaken (e.g. 1 Thess 4:13-16).