The Pentecostal Promise

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. 


The Problematic Unpredictable Promise

Yet, Pentecost is a stumbling block because in it there is always the promise- maybe even the threat- that the uncontrollable wind of God's Holy Spirit might breathe into us. Anytime. Any place. Around any one.

And it's not scary because the disciples began speaking other languages, or started prophesying, or were so overcome by the Spirit that they seemed drunk to outsiders. It's not even scary that the Holy Spirit still does signs, wonders, and miracles around the world, among people we don't understand or pay much attention to.

All this miracle stuff may seem strange, silly, or even scandalous to us. But it's not scary. 

But, I will tell you what makes Pentecost a scary to me. It is scary because it is God's open promise that we can't keep God at a distance forever. At some point all of this spiritual stuff, all this Jesus stuff, all this holiness and Love, could actually pour out on us, into us, and through us.

The transformation we try to keep at arms length, can and will transform us. The Christ we try to follow at a distance, comfortably and predictably, can and will touch us. The Holy Spirit can and will make US holy.

Can you imagine? Us? Holy? Filled with the Holy Spirit? What could be scarier than that?

Why, if that happened, we might suddenly become passionate about Jesus! We might suddenly be set on fire with God's Love! We might suddenly be transfigured, and shine with the brightness of Christ, as if a flame had entered inside us!

The Miracle of the Promise

Because that was the greatest miracle of Pentecost. People think that speaking in tongues, and healing, and casting out demons, are the miracles of the book of Acts. But there is a miracle that far exceeds all of this.

This miracle is that this band of dejected, depressed, distressed disciples were suddenly transformed to live as Christ. Before Pentecost they were weak and powerless. After Pentecost they were bold, just like Christ. They loved, just like Christ. They sacrificed themselves, just like Christ. They lived with passion and power and purpose, just like Christ.

And they were unpredictable, just like Christ.

THIS is the miracle of Pentecost. It is the miracle promised to anyone who will truly open themselves to be filled with the wildly creative, and passionately contagious, Spirit of Christ.

And it is this Pentecostal Spirit that is the life-blood of the Body of Christ, empowering us to live with the same Divine Energy that enabled Jesus to overcome temptation, to heal others, to teach powerfully, to endure suffering, and to rise again.

At Pentecost the same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead is poured into the people who are members of Christ's Body. So, now there is not just one Jesus walking on two feet, touching people with two hands, and speaking with one voice.

No. Because we are members of Christ's Body in a real way- as real as the way in which your fingers and toes and eyes and ears are members of your body- because of this Christ now walks in this world on millions of feet, and touches people through millions of hands, and speaks with millions of voices.

And when we gather together as Christ's Body to worship, to pray, to listen, and to eat and drink His Holy Meal, Christ right here is nourishing us with His Spirit. His Spirit is present in our touch and our voice, in our bread and our wine, in our baptismal waters and our holy communion. 

Just as our life blood nourishes the cells that make up our bodies, so also the life-blood of the Holy Spirit works through all our signs and symbols and services and sacraments to nourish us, the cells that make up Christ's Body.

The Purpose of the Promise

And why is the Spirit sent to nourish us, to transform us, and to empower us?

It's quite simple really. Simple yet scary. Scary yet incredible.

The Holy Spirit comes to make us holy as Christ is holy. Holy means set apart, special, and sacred. It refers to someone completely set apart for Christ's service, completely given over to following Jesus. We have a name for such a holy person. That name is saint.

The Holy Spirit wants to make us all saints. Every single one of us. Saints.

The connection is clearer in almost any language but English. In English we have words like saint, holy, sanctify, consecrate, and sacred to refer to the one reality of what the Holy Spirit does in the lives of Christ's followers. 

In Greek, it is just one word. The Spirit that is "hagios", comes to make us "hagios". In Latin, it is again just one word. The "Sanctus Spiritus" comes to make us "sanctus".

And in Scripture, it declares that all believers are "hagios", or "sanctus", or holy. In one sense, we are ALL saints. All of us are sanctified, consecrated, and sacred. All of us filled with the same Holy Spirit. All of us becoming holy as Christ is holy.

Can you imagine what would really happen if the all-consuming fire of God's Love were to burn within your heart? 

Can you imagine what it would look like for your motives and emotions and actions began to look like Christ's Spirit was living in you?

Can you imagine what would happen if the Church, the Body of Christ, began to live as if Pentecost were really, really real?

Well, if you can imagine such a thing, I confess your imagination is a bit bigger than mine. Because I can't imagine it. Not on my own.

Imagining the Promise

But our imagination is spurred along by Scriptures such as the Book of Acts, and by the stories of the Great Saints who have gone before us. Because, unless we are blind, it is clear to see that some of us are better at living into this holiness than others. All of God's children are saints with a small "s", but we recognize those who are exceptionally Christlike with a capital "S". 

And what we cannot imagine, God can. And what God imagines, God does. And we see THAT in the lives of the great Saints, women and men like Mary and Martha and Peter and Paul, who burned with the passion of Christ's undying Love. It is these Saints with a capital "S" who claim our imagination, as we try to envision what the Christ-life looks like lived out.

Saints are an invitation to Christ-likeness in THIS life. They are a reminder that Pentecost is a permanent promise that God offers us now.

We need to see Jesus with skin on. We need to feel Love embodied. We need to hear how Pentecost transforms the lives of everyday people. That's where Saints come in.

Saints are notorious examples of conspicuous sanctity. Saints show us glimpses of what can happen when Jesus really takes hold in a person, and the Christ-life begins to take over.

Above all, Saints are lovers. Passionate lovers. Head over heels lovers. People crazy in love with Christ, and crazy to share His Love with everyone they can.

In fact, my favorite definition of what it means to be a Saint is actually the word "Christian". A Christian is a Christ-ian: A little christ, an individual embodiment of the Divine Life that lives in Jesus.

A Saint is not primarily someone who does miracles and healings, although many saints have, while many more have not.

A Saint is not primarily a theologian who plumbs the depths of divine knowledge, although many saints have, while many more have not.

A Saint is not even primarily a mystic who climbs the heights of visionary ecstasy, although many saints have, while many more have not.

A Saint IS primarily a little christ, who re-presents the Christ-life to the world, by the power of the Spirit.

Have you ever seen someone whose eyes radiate God's Light with every glance? Who's every deed exuded Love and joy and peace and patience and goodness and kindness and faith and humility and wisdom? That was a Saint.

Have you ever been around someone whose very presence assured you that God does indeed Love you, and can use you, no matter how many flaws and foibles you have? That was a Saint.

Have you ever read a writer who did all of these things? A writer whose words leapt off of the page, causing you to imagine new possibilities of how this Christ-life can infect our lives, our churches, our communities, and our world? That was a Saint.

Implementing the Promise

We tend to think of Saints as lofty and unapproachable and incredibly impractical. But I believe that the actual purpose of Saints in God's plan is humble and approachable and completely practical.

In fact, I believe Saints are a remedy for some of our most besetting sins in the Church.

And here is why: We like plans and programs and property and power. No, let me be honest. I like plans and programs and property and power. I want the precise opposite of Pentecost. I want predictability. Do you?

And when I hear of "sanctity" and "holiness" and becoming a "little christ", the first thing I want to do is turn it into a study committee. Let's get together and come up with the ten main ideas about what it means to be filled with the Holy Spirit.

That's step one. Step two is that we create a plan. How do we accomplish these ten concepts? What are our objectives? What are our benchmarks?

Step three: Let's create a program to accomplish it, complete with steps that rhyme, and some acronyms to boot.

Step four: Let's brand it and market it. 

Step five: Let's get property and infrastructure to support the business model. 

Step six: Let's clarify a contract to define who is "in" and who is "out" of our program, and make sure the power structure is clear.

Step seven: Let's fight each other over the concept, the brand, the program, the power, and above all the property.

Step eight: Let's sue each other. In Christ's Name, of course.

Sound familiar?

I know that was overly simplistic and completely unfair. But something LIKE this often happens, on the Right and on the Left, among Protestants and Catholics, with Progressives and Conservatives.

It has happened, and is happening, and will happen, anytime we trade Pentecost for predictability, and reduce holiness to checklists and ideologies. When we do this, we loose sight of authentic holiness embodied in Christ and his Saints.

I personally love the planned and the predictable. I crave programs and systems. But Pentecost stands before us as a testimony to how the messy, unpredictable, unprecedented interruption of the Holy Spirit can absolutely transform the most unlikely group of people into Saints.

Practicing the Promise

After Pentecost we see the transformed lives of ordinary people: People like Barnabus and Luke, Lydia and Junia, Priscilla and Aquilla. People like us. They speak Truth to power, minister Healing to pain, and remind us that the Christ-life cannot be formulated into a simplistic plan, nor turned into some perfect program.

Saints show us that life in the Spirit is messy yet magnificent, as we stumble toward holiness with Christ. There is no shortcut, no express elevator, no inside route to holiness. The only Way to Holiness is the Way of Christ, the Way of becoming a little christ.

C.S. Lewis once said this about our common life as Christ's Body: "The Church exists for nothing else but to draw men into Christ, to make them little Christs. If they are not doing that, all the cathedrals, clergy, missions, sermons, even the Bible itself, are simply a waste of time. God became Man for no other purpose."

I wonder what would happen if we applied Lewis' definition of sainthood to everything we do in the Name of Christ. What if we judged everything we do as Christians by whether or not it produces saints, whether or not it creates little christs?

Do our methods of reading and explaining the Bible produce saints? 

Do our doctrines and theological systems create little christs? 

Does our teaching and preaching and counseling draw us into Christ? 

Does our liturgical worship and spiritual practices produce holiness? 

Do our outreach efforts and social justice programs create Christlike communities? 

Do our controversies and squabbles and infighting enhance or diminish saint production?

What if passionate, Christlike holiness was the key criteria for how we did everything as Christians. What might change in our Church?

Personalizing the Promise

Another of my favorite spiritual writers, philosopher Peter Kreeft, says this:

"The deepest reason why the Church is weak, and the world is dying, is that there are not enough saints... No, that's not quite honest. The reason is that we are not saints.

"Can you imagine what ten more Mother Teresas would do for this world? Or ten more John Wesleys? No, you can't imagine it, any more than you could imagine how twelve nice Jewish boys could conquer the Roman Empire.

"You can't imagine it. But you can do it. You can become a saint. Absolutely no one and nothing can stop you. It's your totally free choice… 

"If you will look into your own heart in utter honesty, you must admit that there is one, and only one reason why you are not, even now, as saintly as the primitive Christians: You do not wholly WANT to be.

"That insight is terrible because it is an indictment, but at the same time it is wonderful and hopeful because it is also an offer, an open door. Each of us can become a saint. We really can. We really can.

"I say it three times because I think we do not really believe it. For if we did, how could we endure being anything less?

"When we see a saint, we know the purpose of our own lives. Saints reproduce themselves simply by being what they are.

"So why can't you be canonized- become a saint?

"[It is] embarrassingly simple. We have been promised, by God incarnate, that all who seek, find. In other words, "just say yes," "just DO it". 

"It's infinitely simple, and that's why it's hard. The hard part in the formula "just say yes" is the first word: "just". We are comfortable with Christ AND ourselves, or Christ AND our theology, or Christ AND our psychology, or Christ AND our country, or Christ AND our politics, or Christ AND culture, or [even] Christ AND counterculture;

"But just plain Christ, Christ drunk straight and not mixed, is far too dangerous for us." [Peter Kreeft, How To Win The Culture War, pages 102-106]

So says Peter Kreeft. But is he right? IS just plain Christ too dangerous for us? Are we ready for Christ, the whole Christ, to infect us with His Spirit and turn us into little christs?

And he is also right that it is our choice. God will not conquer us or coerce us. God simply allows the Promise of Pentecost to stand open before us. He invites you to become a saint, a Christ-ian, a little christ. His invitation always stands, and never changes.

We cannot become saints on our own. We cannot become Christlike through our own effort. We cannot change our world by running on our own steam. 

But by the Spirit we can. If we do not keep Christ's Spirit at arm's length. If we will let God's Spirit inside us. If we ask the Holy Spirit to fall upon us once again, like He did so many centuries ago, when He inspired a group of scared disciples to change the world.

Kreeft goes on to describe our soul as a kind of "tube" connecting earth to heaven. The tube was meant to be filled on the heavenly side with God's Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Pentecost. And on the earthly side the tube is designed to overflow in Christlike deeds of Love and words of grace.

But the tube only works if it is open.

This is a huge stumbling block to many. We want a predictable plan by which we can follow Jesus on our own effort. But that is simply impossible. And when we realize this, and surrender to it, this stumbling block becomes our stepping stone to follow Christ.

The Promise of Pentecost is right now, right here. What will we do about it? Will we keep Christ at arms length? Or will we open ourselves to God's Spirit once again?