Once upon a time, a long time ago, a small group of people were gathered to celebrate a special feast. They were a rag tag band of folks, chosen from all walks of life, and they had spent the last three years hanging out with this incredible man who had changed their entire lives, but he was gone. They were afraid; they were confused; they were in grief and yet hanging on to one another because they had been touched by something really special and they knew that life would never be the same again. As writer Steve Garnas describes it in his poem Pentecost…
Pentecost
We were sitting around talking about how he loved us,
when it flared up in us—not a memory, but inward fire, the love itself,
like a mother’s love that drives her into a burning house to save her children—his love, this unbidden passion for the world, flamed up in us and drove us into the streets to seek the stranger, to embrace
the foreigner, and to speak—how to convey it?—this love
for all who’d been told they were outsiders,
in languages not our own: locked doors opened,
fruit placed in their mouths, hands laid on their shoulders,
belonging nested in the crib of their hearts. Homecoming.
That day there were no strangers. We were all kin, all learning
how to listen together for the first time to this mystery rising up to greet us in each other, all of us losing our tongues for the language of God. Then we knew that fire Jesus had not been put out:
it was in us, now, spreading, yes, actually, like wildfire.
Steve Garnaas-Holmes,Unfolding Light, www.unfoldinglight.net
We speak about today as the birthday of the church but we know that the seeds were sown long before the day of Pentecost and the stories continue to be shared, to be passed down from one generation to the next. And while we may sometimes feel afraid or discouraged; sometimes we don’t feel any sense of inspiration or hope, that spirit can sweep in and change us too. I know it does. Let us pray,
Most of you recall that the word Pentecost, from the Greek word for “fiftieth”, is celebrated 50 days after Easter. Pentecost has its roots in the ancient Jewish pilgrimage festival, the Festival of Weeks which was celebrated 50 days after Passover. For the ancient Israelites, this festival was a harvest celebration which brought together people from all over (see Deut 16:11; Lev 23:16), and over time, it also came to mark the reception of the Torah at Mount Sinai. For Christians, Pentecost celebrates the arrival of the Holy Spirit and the beginning of what we understand as the church, the community of believers who would embrace the teachings of Jesus and support one another in trying to live these out in their lives.
For the Jewish people, the celebration of God’s giving the Law to Moses was very important, for they believed that God had chosen them, that God was close to them. In the Law, they would hear God speaking to them; they would understand God’s intentions for them and would have the law to guide them. When Moses received the Law, there was lighting and thunder and wind, the sign of the presence of the mighty God speaking to him. And today, in our passage from Acts, when the Spirit comes, there is once again lightning and a mighty wind. The people were waiting for the coming of the Spirit after the loss of their beloved; Jesus had promised that the Spirit would come not long after his departure and so they were waiting to once again experience the deep peace and joy of Christ.
Jerusalem, one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world, is swelled with foreigners arriving for the festival of Pentecost, celebrating the giving of the original Law of God to Moses on Mount Sinai. The followers of Jesus are all together in one place. They are waiting and hoping for some sign, not sure exactly what, and they are praying together. It doesn’t seem like they were making any plans about what was to come next; no, they were waiting on God. They are spending time, together, in prayer.
Henri Nouwen wrote,“Many people tend to associate prayer with separation from others, but real prayer brings us closer to our fellow human beings. Prayer is the first and indispensable discipline of compassion precisely because prayer is also the first expression of human solidarity. Why is this so? Because the Spirit who prays in us is the Spirit by whom all human beings are brought together in unity and community.” In other words, prayer unifies. It brings people together and creates something greater than their individual realities.
And so, these followers of Jesus were all together in prayer when suddenly they feel this incredible presence with them and To everyone’s astonishment, especially their own, these simple Galileans begin to preach, going forth into the streets to proclaim the good news of Jesus. Even more miraculously, everyone in Jerusalem understands them perfectly.
Fire, wind, and these followers of Jesus sharing their stories in many languages were incredible signs that God was doing a new thing that would change the lives of everyone gathered that day as well as those who would continue to hear their messages as they went out far and wide. Perhaps it was because they spoke from their hearts. Perhaps it was because they had such an important story to tell that people paid attention. Perhaps it was because their lives were so utterly changed that they felt the need to bring that same message of hope to everyone they could. And from that day, they set out and told their stories again and again, traveling far from Jerusalem to foreign lands, challenging the comfortable, not always being welcome but that day when they were touched by the spirit had changed everything for them. We are inheritors of this tradition. Maybe we don’t feel the rushing wind, but perhaps we sometimes hear that still small voice of God who reaches us in a moment of need.
The Rev. Ron Albertson tells the story about a young woman named Sally. Sally was growing up, becoming a woman preparing to go off to college. Her mother had struggled to provide for her education, an especially difficult task since her father had died several years earlier. Her mother made every effort to raise Sally right. Now she would be on her own, which was both an exciting and frightening time.
Sally had strong reservations about leaving her mother alone to mind the farm and the chores. She was also nervous about having to find her own way without her mother’s guidance. As she prepared to meet the bus, bags packed and ready, her mother took her arm and said to her, “You’re gonna see things an’ do things you ain’t never heard of, and you won’t know which way to turn sometimes. You ‘member how you used to tug on my apron string when you wanted something and I’d see to what you was after? You ‘member how when you was too close to the road and I’d holler to you to tell you to get away from there’?” Her mother gently reminded. “Well, I’m gonna be there with you in your heart, but it’ll be up to you to listen to what I told you. I can’t kiss your hurts when you fall down an’ skin your knee or quiet you when the big storms come rollin’ through. But, I’ll be close as a peanut in your pocket when you need me. If you’re afraid, I’ll stand with you. And if you are hurting, you can feel me close, and if you do wrong, I’ll whisper the truth to ya so you won’t do it no more.”
The tears came to both their eyes. Her mother opened the dresser drawer and took out a neatly folded handkerchief and placed it in the pocket of Sally’s dress. Upon leaving, Sally felt completely alone. As she fought back the tears, she reached into her dress pocket to take out the handkerchief her mother had placed there. Then she noticed a knot in one corner just like her mother used to tie her milk money in her handkerchief. Upon untying the knot, she found a single peanut. She knew that her mother would always be with her in her heart.
I will close with this blessing from Jan Richardson…
“When We Breathe Together: A Blessing for Pentecost Day”
This is the blessing we cannot speak by ourselves.
This is the blessing we cannot summon by our own devices,
cannot shape to our purpose, cannot bend to our will.
This is the blessing that comes when we leave behind
our aloneness when we gather together
when we turn toward one another. This is the blessing
that blazes among us when we speak
the words strange to our ears when we finally listen
into the chaos when we breathe together at last.
Resources: Rev. Bill Strayhorn, For Comfort, Guidance and Strength
Rev. Jan Richardson