The Pentecost story we have just heard read is a remarkable piece of theatre, full of sound, action, dramatic effects, surprise. Jesus' followers, waiting, as they had been told, in Jerusalem, receive the Holy Spirit with rushing wind and flames of fire and speak in other tongues. A multitude of foreign Jews hear the disciples speak in language they can understand. It is a story of the gospel proclaimed and of lives dramatically changed. It is a story which may excite curiosity, wonder or even disbelief, but it is a story difficult to ignore.

For many years, although I knew the story well, I read it as an onlooker. It was the story of a remarkable happening, but I was not a participant in the drama. I have never shared the experience of those first disciples - although many Christians do, and some of you very probably have _ and I did not identify with all those devout Jews - in the old translations, men from every nation under heaven - who heard in their own language.

But I have come to see that the story of Pentecost is very much a story for today, and one in which we each can have a part. We may not all speak in tongues, the Holy Spirit may not come to us all in such a dramatic way, but God still reaches out to us in language which we will understand, and in as many different ways as there are people to hear. And when we hear the good news in our own language our hearts will be set on fire and we will be filled with power.

It probably seems self-evident that we will not hear the gospel unless it is in a language we know - and this is not to deny the delights of Latin masses or Taize chants. But I do not simply mean that we need to hear the gospel in English or whatever the language is that we know best; our language is much more than just the words we use. It is easy to suppose that because we use the same words we are speaking the same language, but this is not necessarily the case. Each one of us has our own unique experiences of life which lead us to invest words with quite different meanings.

This was brought home to me rather forcefully a few years ago when I was writing with a close friend. We were looking for an appropriate image to use and spent several hours arguing over whether "child of God" had positive or negative overtones. Our different experiences had led us to hear from the one phrase entirely different messages. Language which reflects other people's experience rather than our own is not truly "our" language.

As a woman it is probably only in the last decade or so that I have really started to hear the gospel in a language which I regard as mine. It is only in that time that I have read theology written by women, heard sermons preached by women, attended Eucharists presided at by women, used liturgies written by women and drawn from the experience of women, or even used a Bible translated in inclusive language. Today is the first time I have ever heard the story of Pentecost read in language which does not suggest to me that men were the only important participants. Hearing the gospel in our own language is good news indeed and has been a Pentecost experience for many women, resulting in a creative outpouring of new understanding, new writing, new theology; of hearts truly set on fire.

A similar thing is happening for people in Asian and African countries who for years have had the experience of God interpreted for them through a filter of European theology. Now they are claiming that their own experiences are valid. As on the day of Pentecost some people may mock and some may be angry, not recognising that the Holy Spirit is at work here. But today, as then, the Spirit will not be contained within limits any of us may set, and the Spirit will continue to come in whatever way he or she may choose.

All of us speak a diversity of languages and not all of our language relies on words. Here tonight we come as musicians, artists, economists, mathematicians, historians, architects, writers, poets, theologians, and more. We see and understand the world in a variety of ways. God may be revealed to us in the wonder of nature, the intricacies of anatomical structure, the mystery of poetry, the beauty of music, the elegance of mathematics. God may speak to us in our search for truth and justice. While we may learn of God from others, God is most intimately and convincingly revealed in our own experiences. God's message becomes real when heard in language we truly understand.

To me one of the great messages of Pentecost is that God speaks to each of us individually. God cares about us individually and wants us to hear the good news clearly and unmistakably. God's good news of acceptance and forgiveness can be liberating and empowering only when we hear it in our own language and make it our own.

There is a particular gospel that each must hear; a particular gift for each of us. The blind are to see, the lame are to walk, the prisoner is to be set free. But what holds me in chains may not be what binds you; what I am blind to may not be what you are unable to see; what causes me to limp along in life may not be a problem at all to you.

We cannot tell when or how the Spirit will come to us for the Spirit comes essentially as a gift and a surprise. But if there is any one language beyond all others in which we hear God speak then it is perhaps the language of love. In my experience there is nothing more empowering, nothing more likely to set our hearts on fire than the knowledge that we are loved and accepted. When we know we are loved, when we are confident that we are acceptable, when our own worth is not in question, then we have nothing to prove. We can accept our shortcomings, we can let down our defenses and dismantle the barriers that divide us from others. When we are not anxious for ourselves we can be passionate in our concern for others. This, surely, is the experience of the Spirit within our lives.

In the gospel passage we heard read, Jesus came and stood among his disciples with a message of peace and love. He showed them his hands and his side. "See," he says, "This is how much I love you; this is what I am prepared to do for you. I am not angry that you deserted and betrayed me. With my love you need not be afraid. With the Holy Spirit you can be strong."

Tonight as we celebrate the Lord's Supper, Jesus comes again and stands among us. We see again his broken body and we hear again God's message of love and acceptance. "See", Jesus says, "This is my body and my blood; this is what I give for you. You, too, are invited to eat with me. You, too, can be filled with the power of the Spirit. There is a part for you, too, in this story."

God may speak to us each individually, but hearing the good news in our own language is not just a private matter. When we recognise the power of God in our own lives we will share the Pentecost experience of the first disciples. We too will speak as the Spirit gives us utterance. We may not speak in tongues, but we will certainly speak - words of comfort, encouragement and peace; words of justice, truth and love.

When we hear the good news in our own language, whatever that language may be, it makes the difference between hearing from the edge of the crowd, and being at the centre of the action. We are moved from being onlookers at and we become participants in that wonderful drama.

Spirit of the living God, Visit us again as on the day of Pentecost. Speak to us in our own language, that we may know your mighty works; and fill us with your power, that we may bring your good news to others. Come, Holy Spirit.

Back