Different Voices

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability [Acts 2:1-4].

One rare occasion, the Revised Common Lectionary chooses not to follow its ordinary pattern of rotating each of the four readings on a three-year cycle that follows the church year. One such exception applies to this upcoming Sunday. Whether it’s Year A, B, or C (as you know, this is Year B), the First Reading for Pentecost Sunday is always the same, Acts 2:1-21. And so, in churches and cathedrals all over the world this Sunday, we’ll hear the familiar “tongues of fire” passage authored by St. Luke.

Some years ago, as I approached Pentecost, I came across an interpretation of the Acts 2 text that really struck my fancy. The commentary writer posited that on that glorious day when “a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting and tongues of fire that separated came to rest on each of them” (Acts 2:2-3, NIV), the Holy Spirit effected a reversal of the Tower of Babel story (Genesis 11:1-9).

I was drawn to the symmetry of the reversal. At Babel, righteously offended by the hubris of humanity in desiring to craft its own way to the heavens, Yahweh muddled the communication between and among the tower’s planners and builders by confusing their language. Where there had been one voice, Yahweh caused there to be many. And so, at least according to the commentary I ran across, at Pentecost, reaching out to an ecclesia that had committed itself to follow Christ, the Holy Spirit restored the unity of voice that earlier had been disturbed. I later discovered that this interpretation was in line with a number of other NT scholars.

Unity of voice—there seems so little of it around us these days. Living as we do in a land divided along lines of color—e.g., red vs. blue, as well as black, brown, and white—in a society that exhibits deep political/philosophical rifts—e.g., progressive vs. conservative—and in a broad Christian community within which United Methodists now aren’t so “united,” where there are several types of Lutherans, half a dozen, or so, flavors of Presbyterians, and where Baptists can be Southern, Regular, General, Free Will, Missionary, and Full Gospel—just to name a few, we long for agreement. If we could reclaim Babel—not its attitude—but its singular voice, we’d be happy and content.

The commentary scholars who tie together Babel and Pentecost have some important Scriptural backing. For example, one of my commentaries stresses that the Greek verb for “confuse” found in Acts 2:6 (syncheo) is also found in the Septuagint’s translation of Genesis 11:1-9. That verb’s noun form is even used in the Genesis narrative as the name of the Babel city: Sygchysis. The word is literally translated as “Confusion.” If only our own confusion might be eliminated. If only we spoke as one. If only there was oneness in our voice.

In recent years, I have noticed that other commentators suggest that the Babel/Pentecost relationship is far too simplistic. They contend that when one reads the Acts 2 narrative, one doesn’t, of course, come away with the idea that there has been a restoration of language, from many different tongues to a single, shared one. They argue that instead, the single voice of the Galilean disciples is heard and understood in all the various dialects represented by the “God-fearing Jews from every nation under heaven” [Acts 2:5]. Finally, they posit that what we really see at Pentecost is the validation of difference by the Holy Spirit.

This second group of scholars/commentators argues that at Pentecost, the Holy Spirit embraces difference and finds a means to work through it. These scholars stress that the real message within the Acts narrative is that differences are not erased; they are embraced and overcome.

To emphasize this, says the second group of commentators, Peter steps forward, evoking the prophet Joel, who much earlier had announced that Holy Spirit would one day be poured out on “all people” [2:17]. Yahweh’s Spirit wouldn’t just be poured out on the favored few. According to Joel, reiterated by Peter, the sacrosanct differences between male and female, between Jew and Greek, and between master and slave/servant would be ignored by the Holy Spirit. The gift of the Spirit would be for all.

This second group also argues that in a post-Pentecostal world, we need not imagine a church with a single message and a single voice. Inspired as we all are by the Holy Spirit, these folks stress that we can fully unite by embracing our differences. We are not to erase them.

To the extent that the commentators are shouting a cry for tolerance, I’m all in. I fear, however, that their narrative is more of a siren’s call to craft a faith community that is ruled by the lowest-common denominator. “Embrace difference, do not erase it,” should be our mantra.

Should the church , therefore, embrace the statements by several Moravian bishops who, while they acknowledge that Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life” (John 14:6, NIV), they profess that there are “many ways to God?”

When the author of Genesis writes that humankind was created in God’s own image, “male and female He created them” (Genesis 1:27), should we cry out “Vive la difference,” when others have different views? Are those words just for backward folks born several millennia ago? Should we all mark that verse (and many others) in our Bibles with an asterisk?

When we were taught that the church should stand for the oppressed and for those who are particularly vulnerable, should we embrace the different notion held by many around us, often in the next pew, that such protective rules only apply after one has successfully made one’s way through a birth canal or, alternatively, after one has been surgically harvested through a Caesarian section? I suppose that the Psalmist was only speaking metaphorically when he wrote:

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be [Psalm 139:15-16].

What about other differences? Jugs of water into wine, really? A virgin birth, silly you. Have you heard the one about the Resurrection?

Pentecost is, indeed, much more than a reversal of Babel. But it is also much more than a kumbayah message that says all our differences are to be embraced and affirmed.

We are indeed to strive for unity. We need not, however, jettison our Scriptures or our Creeds. If each of us is free to espouse our own truth, we negate the words of our Lord who assured us that He is Truth. We should seek one voice: the voice of Christ, for He is our Lord and Savior.