When the day of Pentecost had come, the disciples were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. 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… This is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: "In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy… Even upon my servants, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit, and they shall prophesy." [From Acts 2:1-21]
I have a confession to make. Perhaps the scariest holy day in the Christian calendar for me is Pentecost. It scares me because it holds within it the promise of unpredictability: The promise of a God who, at any time, could take our carefully manicured status quo, and turn it on its head. With a mighty roar, a cacophony of God's grace could overflow, and spill into the routine parts of our life.
On other holy days it is not this way. With some plausibility we can keep them outside of us. Christmas is about a holy child, born a long time ago, in a land far away. All Saints day is about holy women and men who are nice to think about, but live at several levels of remove from our daily life in 21st century America.
Even Easter, as incredible as it is, is easy to keep outside of us, to stop it from threatening us. It is about a Victory over death that happened long ago, that assures us of eternal life sometime in the future.
