Act 2:1 - 21 - "Power, Passion, and Pentecost"

            I grew up in a big old downtown mainline first congregational Protestant church.   It was assumed that everyone who attended was kind of Christian and a good solid citizen.  The men wore jackets – and often suits – and ties on Sunday morning, and the women wore dresses.  The children were dressed as miniature adults and were proud of the Sunday School pins they displayed on their chests, the ones with all the perfect attendance bars hanging down.

            We had a nativity pageant at Christmas and lilies on Easter.  There was a pipe organ in the sanctuary, and we paid our soloists.  We made Advent wreaths in December and waved palms (kind of) on Palm Sunday.  But in all the years I attended that church, I do not remember ever celebrating Pentecost.

            That would have been too much.  After all, though in some circles tamely recognized as simply the birthday of the church, Pentecost is clearly about the Holy Spirit – and that was way too weird and far out for my big old downtown mainline first congregational Protestant church. 

            I mean, face it, the noun “Pentecost” is surely too close for comfort to the adjective “Pentecostal.”  Though at least one of the nicest people I know in our church family here has Pentecostal roots, in my big old downtown mainline first congregational Protestant church, “Pentecostal” conjured up images of revival tents, altar calls, and speaking in tongues.  Being caught up in the Holy Spirit was just not something that happened at my church.  We were too much a part of mainline American Christendom for that.

            And so for many of us  - even today - who come from similar religious roots, Pentecost is a church celebration we tend to hold at arm’s length – not quite sure how to respond to it or what to do with it. 

            Though we think of Pentecost as a Christian event, it actually has its origins in Judaism.  “Penta” is Greek for “fifty” and so Pentecost was an important Jewish festival that occurred 50 days after Passover.  It was also called the Festival of Weeks or first fruits.  It was a kind of harvest festival but also commemorated when God gave Moses the law (the Ten Commandments) on Mt. Sinai. 

            Pentecost was a time of pilgrimage, and so thousands of Jewish people flocked to Jerusalem to celebrate this pivotal event in their history as God’s chosen people. They came from Parthia and Medea, from Judea and Egypt, from Crete and Rome, and from a bunch of other places we Western Christians do not even try to pronounce unless we draw the short straw and are the appointed lay reader on Pentecost Sunday. 

            And all these Jewish pilgrims were out in the streets and alleyways of the Holy City on this particular Pentecost that we as Christians remember.  They came to bring the first fruits of their harvest to offer to God.  They came to remember the law.  They came to their sacred city – and with no immediate forewarning the Holy Spirit came as well.  Just as Jesus said it would. 

            He had told his disciples to wait, to wait in Jerusalem for his return – and for once, they had followed his instructions.  They waited in that stuffy musty upper room – and Jesus did return – though not quite like they thought he would. 

            The author of the book of Acts tells it this way:  "Suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where the disciples were sitting. And divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them." 

           As Episcopal priest Charles Robertson writes, “With rushing wind and tongues of fire, the apostles experienced the presence of God. In power and in intimacy, they were filled with the Holy Spirit and sent forth to proclaim the good news of God in Christ, to heal aching souls, to bear witness to divine, incomparable love.”

            The image of the Holy Spirit presented in this story is hardly that of the gentle dove slowly descending from heaven to land on Jesus’ shoulder at his baptism.  In contrast, this Holy Spirit is wild and wooly.  It is like the continually blowing gusty wind Joe and I experienced the week we were on Iona – and maybe that is part of the reason that Celtic Christians imagined the Holy Spirit not as a gentle dove but as a noisy, honking, unpredictable, irascible goose.  There is nothing safe and sweet about this Spirit at Pentecost.  It even flirts with danger – what with the tongues of fire and all. 

            But when you think of it, that is how the Holy Spirit is most often depicted in the Bible.  After all, God’s Spirit called out the Old Testament prophets and infused them with whatever it took for them to speak bold and dangerous words. 

            And look at Ezekiel.  He saw a vision of God’s Spirit blowing over a valley filled with dry bones and breathing into them until they fairly rattled and danced with life itself. 

            And God’s Spirit did not send Jesus out into the wilderness for 40 days with a kiss on the forehead and a box lunch and thermos.  No – if we read those Gospel narratives, we will rediscover that the Spirit actually drove Jesus out into the wilderness.  Drove him out!  Surely there is a power and passion embodied in the Holy Spirit. 

            And it was this powerful and passionate Spirit that drove the disciples out of their hidey hole that morning in Jerusalem long ago.  And when that happened, all language barriers were broken down, and the disciples who had been holed up in that Upper Room for the past 50+ days, now filled with the Holy Spirit, took to the streets. 

            And people thought they were drunk – a 9:00 in the morning, no less.  Had they been drinking new wine?  Heavens no!  They were the new wine – the new wine of the Spirit. 

            And Peter who had never done much more than bumble his words at the most inopportune times preached the sermon of his life.  With power and passion he proclaimed as the prophet Joel had in earlier times, "I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams" – and so the Gospel message of healing and transformation, of love and compassion, of forgiveness and reconciliation began to spread to the ends of the earth – and the church was born.   

            Baptist pastor Randy Hyde notes that “Pentecost is the season of fire, the fire of the Holy Spirit.  Pentecost is the season of wind, the wind of the Spirit that blows and gusts (its) way into the hearts of those who are committed to God and (God’s) kingdom.  Pentecost is the time when we need to be reminded that sometimes being the church can be dangerous.  Annie Dillard is rather famous for saying that we ought to wear crash helmets in church and strap ourselves to the pews, because we don’t know what a dangerous place this is.”

            If we read between the lines in this story of Pentecost, this tale of a mighty wind and tongues of fire, we will find that one point of the story is that, when it is truly alive, the church is always alit, is always burning with the fires of Pentecost.  When it is truly alive, the church reflects the power of the wind and the passion of the flames.  If God is still speaking, then surely God is still speaking through the church.

            And if I am right about that inference, then Pentecost Sunday is a very good Sunday to be asking the inevitable question.  Here, in this place, in our church, is the Spirit evident?  Is God still speaking through us?  As Randy Hyde reflects, “We are Easter people, yes, but are we Pentecost people as well?”

            The great philosopher Soren Kierkegaard told a parable of the wild goose.  It left its flock flying in formation in search of food.  It was weak and starved.  By happy providence it found a barnyard filled with good food and ate until full and slept.  When it awoke it was alone, no fellow birds in sight. Then he heard the sound of geese honking above.  The sound stirred his spirit, but the comfort and plenty of the barnyard kept him there.

            The next day he heard the birds in flight, the stirring was there but fainter.  And again he resisted the calling of his spirit and stayed.

            One day the birds flew by in "V" formation honking their call in flight.  And the wild goose felt nothing.

            Sometimes, like that goose, it would be nice to just forget about the Holy Spirit because, you see, the Holy Spirit does not solve problems.  Rather, it creates them – and a lot of times, it creates them for the church.  If we take the Holy Spirit in our midst seriously (as we must), then we have to ask ourselves some downright difficult questions.

            If the Spirit of Pentecost is about power and passion, then where does our power lie, and what is our passion? Or have we tamed the Holy Spirit?  Are we like the goose content to stay fat and happy in the barnyard? Is our passion to get the bills paid?  Is our passion to be a club where everyone is like we are and the only membership requirement is that we show up for an hour on Sunday morning – or some Sunday mornings?  Those passions are hardly the stuff of which wind and flame are made.

            Or does a mighty wind continue to blow in this place?  Do the flames leap high and hot in our congregational life?  Where is our power, and what is our passion?

            Are we passionate about Christian formation - about making sure that our children know our Christian story and even more sure that we adults understand our roots, so that we can share it in meaningful ways with others who may not even attend our church? 

            Or are we passionate about missions – about connecting with people here in Maine and in the U.S. and throughout the world, connecting in deep and meaningful ways, so that strong relationships are born and nurtured, relationships that encourage us to receive as much as we might give?

            Or are we passionate about music and worship – about offering people far and wide creative opportunities to explore their spirituality and the ways that God is present in their lives through various media and styles – perhaps different media and styles than the ones we grew up with?

            What is our passion?  What is the power of the Holy Spirit driving us out to do?  Those are critical questions, especially as we define a growth strategy here at RVCC.  Those are important questions to engage one another in.  What do you think?  What does your pew buddy think?  I encourage – nay challenge – each one of you to give some thought to the question of passion and power, of the Holy Spirit in our midst – and to share your thoughts with someone else.

            To do so seriously will not be easy because it will require looking deeply and honestly at an institution that we all love and may feel uncomfortable critiquing even a teeny bit. 

But as you embrace this challenge, know that you are blessed by the passion and power of the wild, unpredictable, surprising, challenging, and renewing Holy Spirit, by the Pentecostal mighty wind and tongues of fire.