I am becoming an expert in baby talk. Thanks to two young
granddaughters, I am learning all over again the special
language of infants. What their tiny mouths utter is not
nonsense. They have their own language. Just because I
have become accustomed to the language of the adult world
– just because, as was said of Shakespeare, I have “small
Latin and less Greek” – that does not mean that I cannot
appreciate the language of babies. In fact, woe betide the
parent or the grandparent who cannot understand how
babies tell us they are hungry or tired or wet. I might add,
that ability to know baby language is also important for
workers in the church nursery; I heard of a church where
outside the nursery door they had posted the text of I
Corinthians 15:51, “We shall not all sleep; but we shall all be
changed!”
The language of babies is not nonsense. It makes perfect
sense. When babies use the sound “M” it is very clear that
they want nurture. It is not an accident that in many
languages the word for “mother” begins with “M”. Mother,
mere, mutter -- mama. The nurturing presence. I know one
little girl who only has to look at food to put her lips together
and pronounce, “mmmmmm”! (Actually, I know some big
boys like that too!).
The sounds “B” and “Ll” are easy for babies too. Babies
make those sounds. Their facial structure helps them with
“B” and “L” sounds. Some have guessed that maybe that is
why we call babies babies! The double “B” sound makes it
natural. Around our place granddaughter number one says
“baby” frequently. She means her two-month-old sister. She
does not mean herself. Olivia is a big girl now. Not a baby.
But Olivia has also learned to “bubble”. There are those “B”
and “L” sounds for: bubble. It all started with Keena and
Greg Brock’s wedding. Margaret and I took home one of the
little soap containers that were handed out as an
environmentally friendly substitute for rice. When Olivia saw
what came out of that bottle, she was entranced. Not only
did she learn to say “bubble” right away, but also she busied
herself trying to catch those wisps of soap. You and I,
worldly-wise as we are, know that you cannot catch and
keep a bubble. But the baby does not know that yet. She
just repeats her new word over and over continues to try to
catch bubbles. Each new bubble represents for her a new
beginning, something wonderful. But she can never quite
catch it.
I say, let her alone. Let her chase the bubbles. Soon
enough she will become older and realistic. Soon enough
she will conclude that some things are not possible in this
world. Soon enough she will become frustrated and cynical,
maybe just resigned that that’s the way it is. No, let her
pursue the bubbles. Babies chase bubbles, beginnings.
Which takes us to the story of the Tower of Babel. This
ancient story is an ingenious thing. Not only does its teller
explain why we speak so many different languages; he does
so by playing with sounds, baby sounds. Over and over he
uses the “B” sound and the “L” sound, so that if you listen to
this story in Hebrew, you not only hear its message with your
mind, you also feel its message in your bones. Babel -- it
means gate of God; it referred to the ancient city of Babylon.
Listen to a taste of Hebrew: “Nilbenah”, let us make bricks.
“Le’eben”, for stones. “Nabelah”, let us confuse. The teller
of the tale is pointing us to something very deep and very
basic in the human experience. He is pointing us to the set
of issues I call Babel and bubbles, babies and beginnings.
I
Babel. What is the meaning of the story of the Tower of
Babel? It is another way of saying what the Book of Genesis
has said from its very first pages -- that we human beings
always want to put ourselves in God’s place. We want to go
beyond our boundaries. We think that by our
accomplishments we can ascend to the highest heights and
reach to the deepest depths. The Tower of Babel is a
picture of our pride in achievement. Oh, we have done so
much. We can build. We know what is right. We know
what we want. We know. And so, just as the first chapters
of Genesis, with the story of Adam and Eve, tell us that all of
us break fellowship with God, and all of us want to taste of
the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and so, having
broken fellowship with God, we must leave the garden of
delights and wander the earth; and just as the Noah story of
Genesis tells us that the day came when the Lord saw that in
every human being there was nothing but deceit and folly,
and so the only answer was a great flood to wash them
away; so now in this chapter, the same message, but in a
different wrapper: we are too big for our britches. We spend
our time and our energies putting ourselves up high on the
pedestal. We are insatiably thirsty for esteem and
voraciously hungry for power, so that God has no choice but
to confuse us.
The story of the Tower of Babel is the story of the confusion
and disharmony and misunderstanding that comes from our
tower-building pride; it comes from our desire to take God’s
place. Bab-el, the gate of God. Babylon, the city of
arrogance.
But it is all just baby talk. It’s babble. Jabber. Staggering
syllables of infantile haughtiness. This is the human
condition. We are really babies beginning to babble. But we
think we have achieved so much. We suppose we are way
up there. But we do not understand others. We do not hear
the cries of others, for we are busily conspiring to build yet
more towers and create yet more confusion.
II
This World Communion Sunday recognizes that reality.
World Communion Sunday was initiated a number of years
ago so that Christians of various denominations, who speak
various languages, who represent various opinions and
theologies, and who live in widely scattered parts of the
world might at least agree on one thing: to come to the Table
of the Lord on the first Sunday of October. Amidst all our
varieties and our disagreements, we have at least this one
symbol of unity, the Lord’s table.
But Babel and bubbles, babies and beginnings. The Bible --
“Bible” -- that’s another “B” and “L” word -- tells us of an
occasion in which God undid what He had done at Babel.
The Bible tells us how the Lord began His church. The
disciples were all together on the day of Pentecost and the
Spirit came on them and gave them ... what? Was it the
ability to jabber? Gave them the power to speak in special
spiritual language? So-called unknown tongues? No!
That’s not what the Book of Acts says. Acts says that the
Spirit came on the disciples and gave them the power to
speak in one another’s languages! Gave them the power to
be understood by those who were different. The miracle of
Pentecost is not that people set up a babble of special
sounds. The miracle of Pentecost is that it turned around the
Tower of Babel, it started bringing us back together, it
started us listening to and understanding one another. The
miracle of Pentecost is that in the Christian church men and
women of all races, tribes, nations, conditions, languages,
and backgrounds are brought together. The Spirit helps
them understand one another.
III
World Communion Sunday at Takoma Park Baptist Church.
Is it Babel? Is it a bubble, a wispy thing you cannot catch?
Or is this a moment for babies and beginnings?
A
I want to say a word about our Baptist connection. Our
Baptist Babel. You have read in the press and in our own
bulletin about the strained relationships between the
Southern Baptist Convention’s leadership and our District of
Columbia Baptist Convention. This is not the time or place
for me to present an analysis of all that has happened. But
conscience compels me to say that over the last twenty
years some of the people whose denominational label I share
have systematically built a Tower of Baptist Babel. They
have excluded others who do not think as they think, who
take different positions on certain issues, and, most of all,
who do not use the same buzz words that they use. Slowly
but surely a certain group of people have taken over -- their
words, not mine -- have taken over the institutions others
labored to build for missionary purposes, and have turned
them into Babels of prestige and power. And now, because
Baptists here in the nation’s capital speak a somewhat
different language, we have been told that we are to be cut
off. No more dollars for those who do not say things the way
some want them said. I know not what you call it, but I call it
Babel. Arrogance, pride, and thus confusion. God gives us
confusion when we rise too high; He frustrates our self-
serving schemes.
But you and I, brothers and sisters, in this church, have
taken one small step toward turning this Babel into a new
beginning. As we have given far beyond what we normally
give in our National Capital Area Missions Offering, we have
sent a message, that we will not be bullied, and that we want
missions to continue. We want to be heard; and we want to
hear. I believe you would be proud of Dr. Jeffrey Haggray,
our Executive Minister, who has steadfastly and consistently
been Christlike. He has refused time and again the
opportunity to slap at his critics. He has taken the high road.
It is a bubble, maybe, and you might say it will not last. I do
not know. I only know that, like babies trying things out for
the first time, you and I must chase some bubbles and work
for a new beginning, like the Pentecost beginning, where we
are finally able again to understand one another and to do
missions.
B
So much for our Baptist connection. What of us ourselves?
What of Takoma Park on World Communion Sunday? Are
we Babel? Are we a bubble that you cannot quite grasp? Or
is there in us that baby, yet groping for new hope, trying out
new language, a new and precious beginning?
As I speak, I want you to know first that I do so with a
pastor’s heart. It is not my habit to call out anyone from this
pulpit. But if we are to have a Pentecostal beginning, then
we must hear and understand one another.
A special word, now, too, to those of you who may be on the
fringes of our church. You may be a person who has been
considering membership here. You may be a person who is
a member but who is feeling a little distant, and you may not
even know why. It is not my intent to chase anyone away.
The Lord knows I work to build and grow this church. Each
one of you is precious in God’s sight, and in the pastor’s
eyes as well. But conscience again compels me to take the
risk of speaking the truth in love.
Babel has been rising among us. Towers of Babel are being
built. Some of us have resorted to attacks on others. We
have described one another in very unpleasant ways,
sometimes in public gatherings, sometimes in group
meetings, and sometimes just with gossip and innuendo.
That kind of talk is Babel talk. It hurts. And if there are
persons whom we have not seen in a while, we ought not to
be surprised. God creates confusion when we speak out of
arrogance.
Some of us have brought our own agendas and have
insisted on their being carried out, never mind the due
processes of this congregation. Never mind hearing the
heart-cries of others. Some of us have decided that what we
want to do takes precedence over everything else. So we
build a program or create an activity, no matter what stands
in our way. We may even describe those who disagree as
demonic, possessed of Satan, stupid, or incompetent.
Small wonder, then, that those who are told that their gifts
are not wanted and their insights are not treasured will fold
their tents and silently steal away! Babel is growing in the
church of God, and God is doing something about it. He is
allowing confusion, so that finally we might see ourselves for
what we are, and turn around.
What, then, do we do about this? On this World Communion
Sunday, is there an answer to the confusion? There is.
There is. It may look like a bubble that you can never catch.
But there is an answer. Babies and beginnings, that is the
answer. Babel and bubbles, babies and beginnings.
For Peter says, “like newborn babes, desire the sincere milk
of the Word.” Like babies, let us submit to the word of God;
let us listen to its insights, let us see it shedding light on who
we are. Let us discern who it is that sits next to us in the
pew. It is not an enemy, not an adversary, it is a brother, it is
a sister, it is someone for whom Christ died. This is a babe,
a child of God, and she is to be respected. He is to be loved.
Babies and beginnings. On this World Communion Sunday,
let us grasp those bubbly new things that God has been
doing among us. Sixty-six new members in the last twenty
months. An oversubscribed budget. New ministries, like
Women of Excellence and the Prodigal Ministry. A new
congregation, La Philadelphie Mission. New discipleship
groups, like Men on Men and Parenting by Grace. Children’s
ministries multiplying. People of many backgrounds,
languages, cultures coming. You experienced some of that
this morning. Small bubbles that may burst, yes, but new
beginnings nonetheless.
Can you not see that God wants to bring Pentecost to us?
He wants to turn our Babel around!
Today needs to be a day of repentance. Today needs to be
a day of new beginnings. Today let us come to this table
only after we have carefully examined our hearts and our
language. Today let us come to this table only after we have
heard, truly heard, that brother or that sister that we have
been criticizing. For that one, as for you, while we were all
yet sinners, Christ died, the godly for the ungodly, for the
offender and for the offended. For the proud Babel builder
as well as for the tiny bubble-chaser.
Today needs to be a day of repentance. A day to confess
the Babel in us. A day, like babies, to pursue the shining
bubbles of grace that have showed up among us. A day to
embrace our childlike selves and to submit to one another. A
day to stop the loose talk that comes from our mouths and to
shred the messages we have been sending one another.
Today is a day to come to this lowly Table, down to earth,
not high and lifted up. Today is a day to submit to Him who
made Himself of no reputation, but took on Himself the form
of a servant, and who went to the Cross for us. This table is
Bab-el, the true gate of God. Not our achievements, not our
correct theology, not our towering pride in our own rightness.
None of that means anything except confusion.
Today is a day only for the Cross. Towering o’er the wrecks
of time. All the light of sacred story gathers ‘round its head
sublime.
Oh, great God, Babel has grown among us, our
overwhelming pride. Make this table to be our bubble, our
baby thing, our hope for a new beginning, for ourselves and
for Your church.
