Pentecost 2012

It is a somewhat surprising reality that Pentecost is so little celebrated in Protestant Churches. It is, after all, our collective birthday. We celebrate the coming of the Long Expected Jesus. We sing songs and lift glasses in remembrance of His birth. We celebrate with high feasts His resurrection. It is curious we do not celebrate with the same enthusiasm the day He sent His Spirit to live with us and in us for the rest of human history. It is true, that the glory of the Spirit is to point away from Himself, and lift the name of Jesus on high. But should we not remember with shouts of joy the day He opened the very ears of our soul, the day we heard the Gospel in our own tongue?

What must it have been like, that early morning in the upper room? Huddled together, praying, hoping, expecting. The eleven had been told to wait for the power to come. They did not say how or when, for they did not know themselves. But perhaps they had an inkling. Perhaps Pentecost, they thought, perhaps on the Feast of the Weeks. It would make sense. The festival commemorated God giving the law to the people on Mount Sinai, 50 days after the Exodus from Egypt. And of course, they might have thought, the Quickening happened right after they celebrated Passover. That was the real Exodus. The real release from bondage. And now, 50 days later, God might speak again from the Mount. That would be too much. We would be consumed in flame. But what if He did? And with the nations gathering at our very doorstep. What was that? Did you hear that rustling?

Once again, as He had done so many centuries before, the Father Spoke. But this time, there was more than one Moses. More than one Moses for more than one nation. A new race was being formed. A new kingdom was being forged. A new people, at the foot of the mountain, being made ready to journey to a new promised land. But first they must cross the wilderness. First they must learn to trust, as their fathers before them had failed to do. But this time was different. This time God Himself breathed on them. Slowly, bone joined to bone, and sinew to sinew. As flesh crept over muscle, dry bones become human once again. As they stood in the courtyard, He breathed the Breath of the Spirit upon them. A resurrected army, a mighty and holy host. And about 3000 were joined to their number that very day. This is what we celebrate on Pentecost. We celebrate the city where construction has only just begun.