Acts of the Apostles 2:1-14a; John 20:19-23 (NRSV)

It has been several years, well, more than several, because I am now an old man. But I remember it as though it were yesterday — waiting, waiting, and waiting some more; the terrible blast of wind that came through the house; the tongues of fire; the new words that burst out of our mouths, languages we had never spoken, but that suddenly we understood; the huge crowd outside.

Yes, there we were, waiting according to our instructions. Jesus had said not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the promise of the Father. “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.”

Now we knew what that meant, what the Holy Spirit was. The Spirit of God has been a part of our history ever since the beginning of creation. You may remember, as we certainly did, that  In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

We learned that as young boys, and we never forgot it. The Spirit of God from the very beginning.

Because the Spirit did not go off and hide after the Creation. The Spirit continued to work in our history. After Moses led the people out of Egypt, after Mount Sinai, Yahweh instructed the people to create the tabernacle. And for that purpose, the Spirit was sent to those craftsmen who were to build it. But not just Bezalel. Others also received the gifts from God so that the tabernacle would be the kind of place where the priests could encounter God.

When Ezekiel called upon the dry bones to knit themselves together and rise up, it was the breath of God, the Spirit of God, at work. When Samuel anointed Saul to be the first king of Israel, the Spirit of God came upon him. And, of course, we know that the Spirit was with the prophets. So the Spirit was not new to us. But, of course, we were just ordinary people, people who would not expect to have the Spirit of God fall upon us!

So we knew what Jesus was talking about. What we did not know was how it would happen.

So we waited, as instructed. At first we needed to select one of the other followers to make our twelve — twelve disciples like the twelve tribes of Israel. Twelve is part of our history, part of our tradition. So we selected two, Joseph called Barsabbas, that is, Joseph son of Sabbas; and Matthias. From those two we cast lots, and the lot fell on Matthias. He became the twelfth disciple, so we were twelve again.

After that, it was just a matter of waiting, waiting, waiting. We knew what we were waiting for, but we did not know how it would come or when. Our scriptures usually just said that the Spirit of God fell on whoever was chosen.

We had no idea how long we would wait, no idea how many ““not many days from now”a few days” was. Of course, we expected it any day. It was kind of like during a drought, waiting for that first rain. Each day dawns with the hope of expectation, and each day sets with disappointment. When would it come? Why hadn’t it come already?

The first week went fairly quickly. After we selected the twelfth, we sat around and shared memories. We filled the house, more than a hundred of us. Many of us had been with Jesus the whole time, but there were some newcomers, and we took turns with them. Some of us remembered some events, and others remembered others. Some of us shared some teachings, and others shared others. Of course, we didn’t always remember events or teachings the same way, so we talked about that too. And we all stayed close, because we expected the “few days” to not be very many.

We were much quieter the second week. We had about talked ourselves out. Some folks came and went, so that the house was not so crowded. By the third week that attitude of expectation had turned into exasperation. We were not so gentle with each other. Tempers flared, and most of us took walks outside to calm down. The meals the women prepared were … well, they were running out of supplies.

The days dragged on, well past what anyone would consider to be “a few days.” Folks who had been there every day no longer were. Sometimes they would stop by to see if anything had happened, but we had nothing to report.

Finally someone remembered Pentecost. It’s one of our traditions, a harvest celebration, the festival of the Week of Weeks, because it is seven weeks from Passover. The time when we bring our first fruits to the Temple. But more importantly, we celebrate God giving the law to Moses. It’s one of the times when everyone goes to Jerusalem to the Temple, much like the Passover. It takes its name from the fact that it is 50 days after Passover.

Surely, if the Spirit were to fall upon us, it would be on such a holy day. We sent out the word, and nearly everyone returned, and some came who had not been before. The night when Pentecost began (remember, our days started at dusk, not at dawn), the house was full to overflowing – 120 people there, men and women, even a few children. No room to lie down, barely to sit! But expectations were high, and we were all in good spirits.

The sun rose, as did our hopes. We assured each other that today would be the day, that what Jesus had promised would come to pass. The women had even managed to prepare an extra special breakfast. I have no idea where they found the money, but we had sweet breads and milk. We were all in a festive mood.

To be honest, we had no idea what to expect, but suddenly the sound of a wind swept through the house. We thought it would knock us all down flat. Not just a breeze, you understand, but a violent wind! Nothing calm and gentle. Surely it would blow the doors open, the shutters off the windows, the food off the tables. We clutched each other to keep from being blown away. And then, the wind was gone, just as quickly as it had come.

But it was only the sound. The doors were still closed. The shutters still covered the windows. No food fell off the tables. We were still standing or sitting where we had been.

The noise was replaced by a feeling of warmth, physical heat. At first I thought I was having a fever, but as I looked around, I saw what looked like tongues of fire above everyone’s head! And I could tell, as people looked around them, as people looked at me, that I had one, too. I wasn’t the only one who reached up above my head. It was a strange feeling – not a real fire, because my fingers didn’t get burned, but a warm sensation, a tingling.

Now I told you that this was Pentecost, one of our holiest days, so Jerusalem was full of people from all over the world who had come to celebrate and to worship. People from east and west and north and south, not just from Israel, but from every place where Yahweh was worshiped, places I could pronounce and places I could not.

When it sounded like the house was nearly blown apart, people outside could hear the wind too. As we came spilling out of the house, thrust out by the Holy Spirit, they stared at us in amazement. And those tongues of fire? You know how we sometimes refer to languages as tongues? We could suddenly speak different tongues, different languages, the languages of the people around us. We were babbling in tongues we had never understood, let alone spoken.

Babbling. You know where the word comes from, don’t you? The tower of Babel, when God confused the tongues of the people, when God made them all speak in different languages. And that’s what we were doing! But back then, when they tried to communicate, they could not. Confusion reigned, and they separated from each other, spreading themselves across the world.

But that day of Pentecost, it was not confusion but communication. Suddenly I could speak with someone who spoke a language other than Aramaic, and we could both understand each other. It was the reverse of the tower! It was the opposite of confusion, and it brought us together! As we explained to the people who had gathered around the house, as we shared with them the good news of Jesus Christ, they believed, and we became one.

Oh, what a glorious day, a day I will never forget, a day when God’s Spirit was poured out upon God’s people, young and old, male and female, even Jew and Gentile.

# # #

But that’s not how everyone remembers it. Judas, also known as Thaddeus, was a very good friend of mine. We came from the same village and began following Jesus at the same time. Jesus called him as one of the Twelve. He has a different memory, a different experience. We’ve talked about it many times, because he doesn’t remember the Holy Spirit coming in the same way. Maybe because I wasn’t with them that day. I wasn’t one of the Twelve.

What he remembers is that they were all huddled together behind locked doors on that very first day of the week after the crucifixion. There was no long wait, because it happened that very day, the very day of the resurrection. The women came in and told them that Jesus had risen, and, of course, nobody believed them. Would you have?

Remember, they/we had just suffered a tremendous loss. Can you imagine watching someone you love die a horrible death? Not just someone we loved, but someone who had been our teacher, our mentor, our guide. The death of our dreams, our hopes, our future.

He remembers sitting with the others, scoffing at the women. Silly women, how could they come up with such an idea? People don’t walk out of a grave, even if someone might have rolled away the stone. Well, Lazarus did, but that was different. Jesus called him out.

So nobody believed the women. And after a little while they fell silent again, each lost in their own thoughts, each feeling the guilt of not having stood up for Jesus, for not trying to fight for him. Each feeling the guilt of fear.

He had no idea how long they waited, not knowing that they were waiting, because they were not expecting anything. Then, suddenly, with no sound, no wind, no banging shutters, Jesus was there among them. He didn’t come in through the door, because the bar still held it shut, but there he was.

There, in their guilt, in their loss, in their confusion, there he was, and he offered them peace. Peace for their souls, peace for their minds. And he breathed on them his holy breath/spirit/wind. My friend remembers that the guilt fled, the sense of loss disappeared, his confusion simply vanished. Peace filled his mind, his soul, his very being. Jesus was there among them.

Jesus walked around among them, breathing on each of them. “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

No wind, no tongues of fire, no speaking in foreign languages, just a peace that flooded them, that filled them, that drove them out into the world to carry the gospel, the good news, just as the Spirit had driven us out among the people.

Why does my friend remember it differently? We don’t know. We had different experiences, but the result was the same. The same Holy Spirit fell on each of us, sent us out to proclaim the love of God shown in Jesus Christ.

Whichever way it happened, that is what mattered. That is what matters still, whether the Holy Spirit comes upon you in a rush, in a wind, with a tongue of fire, or in a still small voice, in a whisper like the brush of an angel wing. Whether you find yourself suddenly falling on your knees with a conviction that seizes you like a convulsion, or you simply feel in your heart, in your mind, in your soul the warmth of God’s love surrounding you like a blanket, the Holy Spirit can fall upon you. Whether you sell your goods and sail away to a foreign land as a missionary or stay where you are, witnessing God’s love in everything you do and say, the Holy Spirit will guide you.

General Questions

1) How does this story follow its Scripture?

2) How does this story expand its Scripture for you?

3) What is the message of this story?

4) How does the message apply to us today?

Specific questions

5) Have you ever had to wait and wait and wait for something you didn’t know what it would be?

6) Can you speak another language? How did you learn it?

7) Since the Hebrew word for breath also means wind or spirit, what does it mean that Jesus breathed on the disciples?

8) Why do different people have different experiences of receiving the Holy Spirit?