Acts 2
You surely know by now that Pentecost is my favorite Holy Day. What’s not to love about the cheerful color red, about banners and balloons, about birthday treats afterwards? But none of us grew up celebrating Pentecost with these things because even those of us who grew up in churches didn’t focus on this holiday. I remember the story from my childhood, but I don’t remember a celebration. (To be fair, over our lifetimes the church has gotten much better at celebrating many things. I remember when most folks thought balloons didn’t belong in church. To which I say, who wants a church where balloons aren’t welcome. It might lead to excluding other things – like people who want to soar.)
It occurs to me that Pentecost is about much more than a fun celebration. It’s a story about beginnings and hope. So I thought we might spend some time today thinking about what Pentecost means at its heart and how that gives us hope.
More than anything, Pentecost is about overcoming fear. The disciples were afraid. Jesus had been executed and they didn’t want to be next. Crucifixion is terrifying. That’s why it works as a control method. People are afraid of pain, even more than they are afraid of death. If you can cause pain and death, you can make people do almost anything you want them to do. So the disciples spent days, even weeks, hiding in fear from the authorities. When they did that, Rome got what it hoped to accomplish by killing Jesus – they ended his movement. That was until they didn’t.
The story goes that the disciples were hanging out together like usual, when suddenly there was rushing wind and noise and fire. That sounds to me like a crowd waking up. People coming alive. Folks getting excited. I wonder who first said to the gathering, “This is no way to live. We can’t just keep hiding here wondering what to do next. Jesus taught us what to do. He told us what to say. He showed us how to live. Why aren’t we doing it?”
I imagine it was like becoming woke in a good way. Maybe like the underground resistance movements in WW II – people who decided they didn’t want to be conquered by invaders and they were going to do something about it. People who hid Jewish neighbors or their children. People who risked their lives rather than just giving up.
Or maybe it was a little like the American Civil Rights Movement. People who were sick and tired of being sick and tired and decided to stand up for justice and sit down at lunch counters and ride busses – or not ride them – as the situation called for.
Jesus had set their hearts on fire with his vision of what life could be like. They had given up everything to follow him and learn from him. Why were they giving up everything again as though his vision wasn’t possible? So once again their hearts caught fire and they came alive. They decided that the vision was worth dying for and so it was worth living for. And they set about to live it into action.
It’s the sensible thing to do to fear pain and to fear death – unless that fear keeps you from living. The heroes of the world shake off that fear and defy its power. They refuse to be controlled by what terrible things might happen and decide instead to live by the power and possibility of hope. That’s what Jesus did. That’s what his disciples decided they could do too, and that’s the story of Pentecost.
The disciples weren’t likely candidates for heroism. They were peasants for the most part. Probably uneducated. Certainly rough. And they were afraid. But they chose to live past that fear and create the life Jesus told them was possible, so they became heroes in their time and in ours and they changed the world. Or at least they changed the possibility of the world so that we can keep on moving the vision forward.
On Pentecost we ask ourselves, “What does it mean to live without fear? And if we are fearless, what might the world become?”
Fear divides people. When you are afraid, you’ll do almost anything to protect yourself, even at the expense of others. The people who want us to be afraid today tell us that those “others” are a danger to us.
People who come from south of our border are a danger. Unless you get to know them and discover that they are friends.
People of various colors are a danger. Unless you find out they aren’t.
People with other gender orientations are a danger. Unless you realize that’s your children, your grandchildren, your aunties and uncles. They seem pretty safe.
Fear causes anger. The fear in our country wants us to be angry about those posed as threats to us.
We should be angry at people wanting to take our jobs away. I wonder which jobs those are. Seems like everything is shortening hours and closing down because there aren’t enough workers.
We should be angry at people who want a hand out and are too lazy to work. We feed a lot of people who are too ill mentally or physically to work. Compassion pushes anger away.
We should be angry at people who disagree with us on political or social issues. We should ban their books and silence them. We should prevent them from voting or from being elected. Sounds to me like throwing out the candy so we don’t have to share. How will we ever get a bigger or better idea if we never talk to those who don’t start in the same place we do?
Fear shuts down and says no.
Fear says, “We shouldn’t. We mustn’t. We can’t.”
Jesus said, “Look what we can do together.”
We say, “Why not. Let’s try. We can do something, even if we can’t do it all.”
I’m in favor of Pentecost because the power of the Spirit, the power of God’s presence, changes our attitude. It makes us into believers – in God, in ourselves, in each other.
Pentecost says to the world,