Praying Our Way to Pentecost

While some come only out of a sense of duty or obligation, others have saved up to make the pilgrimage. It is Pentecost Day in Jerusalem, a fixed holy day for God’s people. From far and near the people come, acknowledging that those other people would also be there—Jews and proselytes from outlying areas with the smell of distance on their clothing and the sound of strangeness in their speech: Parthians, Medes, Elamites, Mesopotamians, Cappadocians. Where did you say they came from? Libyans, Egyptians, Arabs. Is this really in the Bible? Were they really there too? Yes.
Our story begins on Pentecost Day in Jerusalem when familiar ones and strange ones gather for a typical religious holiday. They have gathered for years, though they do not always understand one another or the songs and ritual speech of the gathering. Acts 2:1 states they were all together in one place, which brings the theater to mind. Once we are all together in the theater, the lights dim and the story begins. The lights do not dim in Jerusalem that Pentecost Day, but the wind blows and there is sighting of fire on the heads of some. Imagine the sigh of relief when Peter rises to make sense of the scene.
Our story began on Pentecost Day in Jerusalem. It began with the messiness and confusion that happens when wildly diverse people try to do anything together. It began with a commitment to gather as God’s people, even when we feel a bit ambivalent about the goings-on of the gathering. More significantly, our story began with the God of wind and flame.