Touched by Christ's Spirit: A Meditation on Pentecost

Lectionary Reflections Pentecost Sunday Acts 2:1-21 June 12, 2011

Introduction Pentecost, coming in late May or early June, was likely a very beautiful day, without even a stray cloud in the blue sky. The Festival of Weeks, or Pentecost, was a joyous celebration of the spring harvest. Jewish people from all over Israel and many foreign lands came to Jerusalem. Peter and the rest of the disciples were at the Temple bright and early. The day was probably very still, since Jerusalem summers are not windy. The huge crowd at the Temple by 8 or 9 a.m. expected nothing unusual. But . . . suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting! Then divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

Pentecost didn't end when the wind died down and the flames evaporated into the air. It went on. It affected a man like Paul, striking him to the ground on the Road to Damascus and blinding him for three days and nights. It gave a man like Peter courage, converting him from betrayer to preacher. The Spirit inspired women like Phoebe to move from silence to bold speech for Christ. Here are their stories, as I hear them today. What might we learn from these three about the power of the Spirit to transform minds and hearts?

Saul of Tarsus: From Persecutor to Proclaimer of Good News Acts 9:1-9 For almost three days and nights, I have been sitting here praying that I might receive my sight again. The light that flashed all around me on my way here took away my sight. The voice that came out of the flashing light said I should wait here and that I would be told what to do. But so far, all I have is questions, suspicions whirling in my head and no answers. My stomach is rumbling with hunger, but I cannot eat. My eyes are heavy with fatigue, but I cannot sleep. My eyes are wide open, but I cannot see. I am so afraid. What's next for me? What kind of future can there be for someone with a past like mine? For these three long days, my prayer has been "How long, oh Lord? How long?"

Though external sight is denied me, I feel my inward vision getting clearer. The problem is I'm not sure I like what I begin to see. Could it really have been you, Risen and alive, on that road? If so, why didn't you strike me dead for all your followers I've destroyed? I think back to my actions leading up to my blinding and I shudder at what the consequences may be from your hand.

There was the stoning of Stephen by the angry crowd. But, I had no part in Stephen's actual death. It is true that I held the coats of those who watched the stone throwing, but that's not the same as actually throwing stones (Acts 8:58-59). Stephen brought about his own death. He told a group of Pharisees that their ancestors rejected the prophets who foretold your coming and that they carried on the family tradition by rejecting you. He told them that you are not dead and buried, but alive. He insisted that your influence is spreading like wildfire throughout our people and congregations. How did he expect us to react?

I did feel for Stephen in the moment of his death. He reminded me of me. We are about the same age, and his vigor and conviction reminded me of my own. But it was more that he reminded me of you. For in the moment of his death, with blood streaming down his face, he called out to God to forgive those who stoned him! I couldn't help but be reminded of your words from the Cross, and feel a stab of something—remorse, or panic that maybe we had made a monumental mistake.

When you are afraid you may be wrong you redouble your efforts to drown out your self-doubts. As Stephen died, I ran from the edge of town into Jerusalem and began going house to house and wherever I spied a cross or the sign of a fish I dragged the occupants out into the street and down to the prison. Then I started off down the road to Damascus to round up some more.

And it was then that a light flashed and I heard a voice saying "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" I said, "Who are you, Lord?" as if I already knew. Could it be that my worst fears were confirmed? You were alive, and I had set myself against you?

And blindness overtook me. Or perhaps I had been blind for a long time and you are giving me a new opportunity to see. Dear God what kind of future can there possibly be for someone with a past like mine?

Peter: From Betrayer to Beacon of Hope Peter, whose name means Rock (in Greek), was not always a Rock. He could not accept that Jesus would have to suffer to fulfill his mission and rebuked him. He fell asleep in the Garden when Jesus had expressly asked him to stay awake and pray for him. He denied him three times the night of his betrayal and trial. Yet it is Peter who is the preacher at Pentecost—Peter afire with faith and zeal. As the Church moved from its Jewish setting into the Gentile world, problems arose. Should Gentile converts have to abide by Jewish ritual law and its rules that only certain foods could be eaten? Should Gentiles, who were unclean in the eyes of orthodox Jews, be admitted to the Church without being circumcised? Peter wasn't sure, but something happened after Pentecost—the Spirit of Christ moved in Peter to broaden his mind and warm his heart.

Acts 10:1-18 I am so hungry. I think, while lunch is being prepared, I will go up on the roof and pray. The smell of food cooking is too much for me, and I must not be impolite and grab some of the meat off the spit. I am a guest in this home, after all and must have good manners. Whenever I pray I run through in my mind the ways I disappointed Jesus and beg his forgiveness.

I felt like such a fool, after protesting that I would never betray him, falling asleep while he was suffering in prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane, and then betraying him three times before the cock crowed that it was morning.

But he forgave me, and insisted that I feed his sheep, asking if I loved him, and I promised that I did and that I would. I'll follow the rules from now on—and if I do, then surely I'll please Jesus. Surely the good news of Jesus is for those who will observe the dietary and ritual laws of Jews. Gentiles are profane and unclean. Jews are not to associate with them, much less to convert them to our movement! If people are going to become Christians, their men must first be circumcised and everyone must observe the dietary and ritual laws and feast days of Judaism.

Paul thinks it's not necessary, but he's like all converts, going from one extreme to the other. Since he used to be a Pharisee, now he has no use for them. But I disagree. We need to teach new converts to observe these dietary and ritual laws. If we allow people to join without following these practices, then what requirements do we have left—except to repent, accept God's forgiveness in Christ, and ask for faith to love him more?

Paul says that's enough. Could he be right? Could I be just as blind as he was for three days and nights—limiting the good news? I'm so hungry I wish they'd call up that lunch is ready. I can't even think straight anymore—Lord, clear my head, and open my heart to your will! I am so hungry. I feel so tired. I think I'll just sleep for awhile.

Peter's vision was interrupted by the arrival of the three men sent by Cornelius. He went with them, and God opened his heart and mind so that he proclaimed, "I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him" (Acts 10:34). And while Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit fell upon all who heard the word (Acts 10:44). And Peter said, "Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have? So he ordered them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ" (Acts 10:47-48).

Phoebe: From Silence to Bold Speech Romans 16:1-16 My name is Phoebe, and I am a deacon in the Church of Jesus Christ at Cenchreae, the port across the isthmus from Corinth. Even though I am a woman, I hold a position of responsibility and influence in the church. Many women in our movement are deacons—a role we fill with diligence, joy, and humility. I am traveling to Rome, leading a group of church folks to present this letter from Paul to the Church at Rome.

Listen to the confidence Paul has in me: "I commend to you our sister Phoebe, a deacon of the church at Cenchreae, so that you may welcome her in the Lord as is fitting for the saints, and help her in whatever she may require from you, for she has been a benefactor of many and of myself as well" (Rom. 16:1, 2).

When he first got to Cenchreae, Paul saw how others looked to me for leadership in the worship and service of our community. He was not used to meeting women who had authority that didn't come from his assigning it to them. I could tell this bothered him, and I knew why—for in some of his other letters he expresses the belief that women should not have leadership outside the home, nor should they speak in public worship.

Then he saw that I used my influence wisely to build up Christ's body, to promote harmony and service to the sick, and he grew to appreciate my efforts as I did his. There were times when I would accuse him of being heavy handed and he would say, with a rare show of dry humor, "That's the thought I was just having about you." Maybe we're too much alike to never clash, but we have one thing in common: we both know how to get things done. That's why Paul is sending me to Rome with his letter rather than someone else. He knows whatever the perils, however bad the weather, Phoebe will get his letter to Rome.

I became a Christian when I heard an itinerant preacher in our town square back in Cenchreae. He spoke of Jesus of Nazareth, a poor peasant carpenter, who did nothing wrong except teach boldly, who was killed by jealous enemies, and whom God raised the third day. He boldly preached that Christ was alive and sought to heal us, to bring justice and dignity to all people. This message touched my heart. He asked if anyone present had a home with a room big enough to hold a meeting of any who felt moved to become followers of the Way of Christ. I found myself stepping forward and offering my home.

Once our group began to meet and grow, others began to look to me for direction, in how to deal with our enemies and how to minister to the sick. At first I was unsure if I could do what Christ expected of me. I had been raised to speak when spoken to and to defer to men in all things. I lacked confidence to give instructions to others, to speak with authority. But then, one night, when I was deep in prayer, the Lord said to me, "Phoebe, remember that it was to Mary Magdalene, Johanna, and Mary the Mother of James, that I first gave news of my resurrection. Claim the talents God has placed within you and use them with confidence."

Pentecost doesn't end Sunday morning. This morning is just the beginning! How will you allow the Holy Spirit to transform your mind and heart, and fire your will to serve Christ in the days ahead?