With the feast of Pentecost we come to the end of the 50 days of Easter. From this point on we will witness, in our New Testament readings, the life the Spirit engenders in the church. We can call this day the “birthday of the church.” It’s clear from the inconsistent behavior of the disciples during Jesus’ ministry and their disintegration when he was arrested and killed that, without some intervention on God’s part, there would be no church to spread the good news of Jesus Christ — hence the importance and necessity of Pentecost.
After Jesus’ resurrection and appearances to his disciples, he knows they will need a transforming spirit if they are to be his witnesses. So, at the end of Luke’s gospel (24:47) and, previously in Acts (1:8), Jesus instructs the disciples to wait for the power that will come upon them with the arrival of the Holy Spirit.
St. Luke fixes the beginning of the church on the Jewish feast of Pentecost and places the event in Jerusalem. It’s the fiftieth (“pentecoste” — Greek) day, known as the Feast of Weeks, celebrated 50 days after Passover and the end of the wheat harvest. Some celebrated the feast as a time to recall the giving of the Law on Sinai. So, it was seen as a time of fulfillment and the beginning of a renewal in Israel’s history.
With Pentecost’s occurrence in Jerusalem, Luke shows the continuation of salvation history which God had begun among the Jews. Isaiah promised (2:2-4) all peoples would come to Jerusalem where God would establish God’s reign on earth. Hence, the listing of the nations in today’s account (vv 9-11). Like so much in biblical literature, the list has symbolic meaning as it moves from East to West and ends in Rome. On Pentecost and in Jerusalem, the time and place are right for God to begin a new age which would spread to the “ends of the earth” — symbolized by Rome. It begins, as the prophets had promised, with an outpouring of the Holy Spirit.
Pentecost comes each year at this time and some parishes celebrate it with scriptures read and hymns sung in different languages. Some will even have a festival of ethnic foods, especially of those people who have recently arrived to this country. These are wonderful celebrations of the church’s diversity and concrete reminders of what those who heard the Spirit-filled disciples said, “Are not all these people who are speaking Galileans? Then how does each of us hear in his native language?”
I was reminded recently what a powerful example a diverse church can be. During a recent parish retreat we were giving, a newly baptized man told me about the reason he felt a call to join the church. He had visited the parish for a Sunday Mass. An African-American family was seated on his right and Vietnamese immigrants on his left. He said, “I decided to join the church because I saw the variety of its members and sensed they would be open to me too. So I enrolled in the RCIA and was baptized two years ago.”
In some environments, like work, school, and politics, such differences create walls, separating people, especially a minority group. To be honest, such divisions and prejudices exist in our parishes: old timers hang on to customs and schedules and resist what newcomers can offer from their perspective and faith practices. We are reminded that the feast of Pentecost wasn’t a once-only outburst of sounds and sights a long time ago; but continues to challenge how we see ourselves as church and how we practice that faith together.
While parish celebrations on Pentecost try to express the wonderful diversity the Spirit brings to the community, the celebrations themselves can become domesticated and tame. “It’s what we do every Pentecost,” said with a sigh and a yawn. In contrast, the Spirit does not bring predictability and routine, but comes in flame and wind. Some may not want to deal with the unpredictable and scary in their faith life. “There is enough change in our lives,” they protest, “I want my religion comfortable and consoling — no flames, no wind, please!” Institutions are particularly prone to resist shifts and adaptations.
The world isn’t comfortable with dreamers and visionaries. We tend to dismiss them or prescribe medications to “calm them down.” Pentecost reminds us we never can be sure how, or in whom, the Spirit will work. The feast cautions us to keep ears and eyes open lest we miss what new life the Spirit is breathing into our lives. Perhaps the Spirit has something to say to us through: the member of the parish council who argues against the majority opinion; the homeless man who complains how he is treated at our parish food pantry; the teenager who says the Sunday evening youth Mass is boring; the retired priest, who fills in on Sundays and keeps referring to “the spirit of Vatican II”; the music director who urges the choir to branch out in its selection of hymns; the neighboring Lutheran minister who asks our parish to participate in sheltering the homeless; the right-to-life group that wants to vigil to end abortions, or the death penalty, etc.
The Spirit doesn’t come just to those in authority or power since, “all in one place gathered together.” The Spirit is an equalizer, so the old reckonings are invalid; you never know who the current bearer or spokesperson of the Spirit is. We tend to think the most educated should have the deciding word, after all, they are the “smart ones.” As valuable as education and rational thinking are, still the Spirit can’t be boxed in, but seems to work more in mystery than formulas and logic. We can invoke the Spirit, but we can’t harness or tame the Spirit’s gifts. The Bible is quite clear that God’s Spirit cannot be controlled by humans.
Even though we have celebrations in our parishes this day, to show the diversity of our church, still, Pentecost should shake us up. That is, if we let the mighty wind fill the sails of our spirit and the flames burn away the barnacles of resistance.
When we go to a baseball game and the crowd around us cheers for the home team, their cheering is contagious and we soon find ourselves joining in with everyone. That can be how it is for us in joyful worship on Pentecost. God’s Spirit, witnessed in the devotion and enthusiasm of those around us, can be contagious. God hasn’t stopped breathing God’s self into the gathered community, in-spiring us, as Peter and his companions were when they were caught up on the first Pentecost in Jerusalem.
They weren’t drunk on alcohol, as the crowds first suspected, they were drunk on the Spirit. Is it no wonder that such enthusiastic faith was so contagious in Jerusalem and drew so many to the Spirit-formed community?