Another Birthday

I’m not sure exactly why I’m struggling to get excited about Pentecost being this Sunday. My congregation has been invited to wear red, orange and/or yellow and someone is bringing cupcakes for us to enjoy on the front steps after the service (weather is supposed to be good!). But I’m somehow just not feeling it.

Maybe it’s because lots is happening in my personal life and the congregation and I’m trying to keep up and keep energy up. Maybe it’s because it’s starting to feel a bit ho-hum after many years preaching about it, and I’m needing to find a new angle on the first part of Acts 2. Maybe it just feels like a really long time since the Spirit has blown through my life powerfully and unmistakably, and it’s beginning to be tough to remember when the certainty of God’s presence was palpable.

But as I reflect on these words, they are exactly why Pentecost needs attention every year. The story mirrors my feelings. Jesus’ faithful followers are gathered within a hostile culture and surrounded by Jews on one of their annual high holy days in Jerusalem. They are waiting and watching and praying, perhaps at least some having figured out if something big was going to happen it would be during the festival of Pentecost. They know that their experiences of Jesus won’t be understood or valued by the vast majority of the Jews in town. Their excitement is maybe waning as they wonder how they are going to pull off continuing Jesus’ mission.

After much prayer and expectation, when Pentecost arrives so does the Holy Spirit in a way that is undeniable. The wind’s roar and the light show of flames draw people from down the street. What seemed like an impossible undertaking - beginning the Church of Jesus Christ in such a hostile, secular age with the Jewish faithful unable to embrace it - is suddenly possible. Instant ability to speak all the languages of those gathered from many places. A huge crowd to take back this incredible message to their home countries. Words of prophecy fulfilled and clarity about Jesus, which we know weren’t Peter’s but were from the Spirit (I mean, really, he wasn’t Mr. Eloquent). And about 3,000 believers are baptized as a result.

As I sit here and feel somewhat sorry for myself and for how much energy ministry can take for so many reasons, I also feel badly about wallowing. Because in my small congregation God has brought people in since Holy Week who have richly blessed us and renewed our energy. People from different denominations and church histories have joined us by what can only be the Spirit. God is drawing in people and rebuilding us even as we have said goodbye to a tremendous leader who moved to a new town.

Is that just the trouble right there? That we set ourselves up with too high of expectations or none at all in terms of the Spirit coming and moving among us? If it’s a gentle Spirit, as we’ll be singing about Sunday, that makes it so much easier to miss. And by it’s nature, the Spirit is beyond our control, so we can’t plan or predict or determine when it will act and how. But it’s definitely moving among us in powerful ways. Do we have eyes to see it and hearts open to noticing it? Are we allowing it to change us and call us to account so that we can feel the blessing of grace all over again? Have we been cruising since Easter on auto-pilot or have we been expectant of God working in and using us and persistently leading us by the Spirit?

Growing a small congregation, battered by deaths during Covid and questioning itself when so many are shuttering their doors, takes trust in God to be clear about what we’re to do and when and how. We’re trying to listen and be ready. We pray “Come Holy Spirit!” with some trepidation about what that may mean for us, but we still pray it. And I try to keep getting out of the way and being a vessel like Peter to say God’s words and not my own.

Will we experience the Spirit in a powerful way on Sunday, or will we read a historical account of the birthday of the Church? Will we recommit ourselves to not only sensing the Spirit showing up but also to allowing it to lead, even if it’s somewhere we’re not excited about? Or will we deem that the way we’ve always done it is God-ordained until the end of time and believe that allowing whispers of the divine to slide us in a new direction would be sacrilegious?

I pray that your Pentecost will be powerful and unique to where you’re at, undeniably pointing to where God is calling you to go. I pray that you are willing to trust God’s at times gentle and at times fear-inducing power and to allow the Almighty to run the show. I pray that you will make a way for the people you lead to see the God who longs to give them purpose and hope and to set them free. That will be a Pentecost to remember.