Pentecost A – George Yandell
Jesus had a predictable habit. In his daily walks, talks, and teachings, anytime he met new people, particularly those in distress, he engaged them where they were. He didn’t ask them about their faith, or question their belief, he simply asked about the circumstances of their lives. His empathy was his calling card. He was a canny observer of the behaviors, manners and speech of those around him. Often the questions he asked about the life-situations of those he met cut to the core of their beings, agitated them, and opened them to change. But only after he’d gotten to know them.
Since ancient times, after Yahweh gave the law to Moses, the Jews all over the Mediterranean region and beyond observed a major religious festival 50 days after Passover, on a Sunday in spring. City-dwelling Jews who lived outside Israel after Alexander’s conquests spoke Greek as their common language, in addition to the regional languages they grew up with. Some might also have known some Hebrew, as well as some Aramaic, the everyday language of Jews in Jerusalem and Judea. In Greek, the name for the spring festival was Pentecost, meaning simply “50 days”: 50 days after Passover. In Hebrew it was called ‘the festival of weeks’, when the first-fruits of the corn harvest were presented. This great feast also recalled how Yahweh gave the law in covenant to the people Yahweh had chosen to serve the Lord.
On that Sunday in 30 a.d., the disciples of Jesus were in a place together, probably to share the bread and wine of the Lord’s Meal, preparing to go out and participate in the great festival at the Temple. They experienced the rushing wind of God’s own spirit, like a tornado, that filled the house where they sitting. Tongues of fire danced on the head of each, so that Mary could see the flames on Peter’s head, John could see the dancing fire on Mary’s.
They must have been terrified. Then they began to speak in distinct, different regional dialects, as God’s spirit endowed each. These were all Galilean peasants, who only knew Aramaic, and maybe a smattering of Hebrew and Greek. They fell out into the streets, proclaiming in unknown dialects the works of power God had done, specifically the raising of Jesus from the dead.
All over Jerusalem were devout Jewish pilgrims. Come on once in a lifetime pilgrimages to offer the sacrifices God had asked for 1,500 years prior, some had been traveling for months, some maybe for a year. They were cramped, jammed in together, probably paying much more for lodging and food than they’d counted on. Those pilgrims saw Roman guards everywhere doing crowd control, on high alert because of the brouhaha about the Jesus rumors and run-ins the Jesus disciples were having at the temple. They were mostly home-sick, tired, and ready to have the festival begin and end, and start their long journeys home.
Then came the tornado sound. Then the outpouring of language was so noisy that the disciples drew a large crowd. And the devout Jewish pilgrims from all over the world heard those Galileans telling of God’s power in their own languages. That’s what got their attention.
What could be more natural? The spirit Jesus had prayed for, to comfort and guide his brothers and sisters who loved him past his death and resurrection, the Spirit had come. The spirit of Jesus infused each disciple, and they became like Jesus, giving empathy to tired strangers in a strange place. That captured those pilgrims like nothing else. To hear their own native tongues was like manna from heaven. “Someone here is my kinsman! Someone here knows my hometown! Thank God!”
Think about it- one goes on a spiritual pilgrimage to encounter the holy. Pilgrims get tired and dirty, but stay in it because of their intent, to know God more fully. On the cusp of the great festival some had waited long lives for, the babbling of holy empathy captured them, it became the festival. Later that morning, after Peter’s sermon in which he told of Jesus’ death and resurrection, he offered the Jesus spirit to them all. 3000 new followers were baptized by a few dozen original disciples. And then “they devoted themselves to the apostle’s teaching and fellowship, the breaking of bread and the prayers.” (Do those words sound familiar? We recite them regularly in the baptismal covenant.) Then most of them went home. Can you imagine what their journeys home were like? And the receptions they got in their home synagogues when they spoke of the love of God in raising Jesus, the tongues of empathy and understanding, the power, the baptism in the Jesus spirit?
Those exchanges of empathy and power between disciples and pilgrims began a public swell of enthusiasm for God that grows even today. Their pilgrimages yielded a church. This is our story, it is our pilgrimage. To be Jesus in empathy, sharing the power of his resurrection in word and deed. To be devoted to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, the breaking of bread and the prayers. To share the spirit of Jesus in love is the journey and the reward. In a moment we’ll recite the Baptismal covenant, which is the grounding for our life in the Spirit of Jesus. Enter this festival. Present the fruits of your journey thus far. Share the body and blood of Jesus, say the prayers. Be renewed in your faith by the breath of God, blowing into us in power. Then go home, and on your way, tell the story. Be brothers and sisters of Jesus. He’s alive, you know.