You likely recall the context for this reading: It has been 50 days since Jesus was crucified and rose from the dead. (“Pentecost” comes from the Greek, meaning fiftieth day.) The apostles have been holed up in the upper room of a house in Jerusalem feeling bereft, lost, scared, and clueless as to how they can move forward when their leader and teacher is gone. They are stuck, paralyzed. How can they carry on with Jesus’ preaching and teaching when they themselves are still trying to wrap their minds and spirits around his wisdom? How can they speak to strangers who don’t know Jesus’ message, especially in a city where those in power are so hell-bent on killing anyone who threatens their authority? How can they do anything without Jesus’ courage and clarity of spirit?
And then Spirit shows up like a violent, impetuous wind, like flames on their heads, and kicks aside their fear and sorrow. They begin to proclaim God’s glory, overflowing with languages that they don’t even speak. They spill out into the street, so exuberant at 9:00am that scoffers think they’re drunk. But others, pious Jews who have come to Jerusalem from all over the known world, realize that, whatever words are coming out of the apostles’ mouths, the message is coming across. How can this be? There is a oneness, a togetherness, that transcends language, that transcends culture or geographic location or race or gender or age or any of the ways we usually wall ourselves off from each other.
Peter tells the crowd, quoting the Hebrew scriptures 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,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.
Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
in those days I will pour out my Spirit,
and they shall prophesy. (Acts 2:17-18)
Peter is specific: sons and daughters, young and old, male and female slaves. All flesh. Everyone.
And this was the way Jesus conducted his ministry as well. God’s message of love was for everyone.
The hajj starts today for Muslims and extends through May 29. This is a pilgrimage that all Muslims are urged to do once in their lives. You may recall that Malcolm X, in the 1950s and 1960s, agitated for Black power and rights. He became a Muslim and joined the Nation of Islam. He was very anti-white. And then he traveled to the Middle East in 1964 to do the hajj. Here is some of the letter he wrote about that experience:
Never have I witnessed such sincere hospitality and the overwhelming spirit of true brotherhood as practiced by people of all colors and races here in this Ancient Holy Land, the home of Abraham, Muhammad and all other prophets of the Holy Scriptures. For the past week, I have been utterly speechless and spellbound by the graciousness I see displayed all around me by people of all colors. . . .
There were tens of thousands of pilgrims, from all over the world. They were of all colors, from blue-eyed blonds to black skin Africans. But we were all participating in the same rituals, displaying a spirit of unity and brotherhood that my experiences in America had lead me to believe never could exist between the white and non-white. [Malcolm X's Letter From Mecca (April 20, 1964) | ICIT Digital Library.]
His “experiences in America” of course refers to a society built around the walls dividing people based on skin color. This year, the U.S. government is encouraging American Muslims not to travel to Saudi Arabia for the hajj because of U.S. politics and war in the Middle East. Some American Muslims are going anyway. They are defying the recommendation to maintain walls, to consider who might be enemies. They want to experience that spiritual unity with other faithful pilgrims from all over the world.
Doesn’t that sound a little similar to the Pentecost experience? God’s love is for all, regardless of race, color, country of origin, economic background, politics, sexual orientation, or education. Get out in the streets and celebrate together! Spirit is poured out on all flesh—everybody. Praise God in unity, with overflowing joy and abundant welcome.
Last weekend, Christian nationalists gathered for a vigil in Washington, D.C., to “rededicate” the United States to being a Christian nation. They say, despite much evidence to the contrary, that the founding fathers intended for this to be a Christian nation. This sounds like a way of thinking that would exclude people based on their religion, which goes directly against the separation of Church and State and the freedom of religion that are embedded in our Constitution. It does not sound like acknowledging that Spirit is poured out on all people, everywhere. Neither does it sound like a celebration of our unity across boundaries.
The people who experienced Pentecost were transformed. No longer were they boxed in by their fear. No longer were they held back by their doubts about their ability to serve God effectively. In the end, they just got out there and started doing it, with Spirit guiding them all the way. They didn’t set up worship services in a building—Jesus taught in the synagogues but also on mountains, in boats, and anywhere else. No, the disciples just started gathering people, teaching, living in community, healing, sharing what they had. How they were in the world embodied everything they understood about Jesus’ ministry and about God.
So on this Pentecost Sunday, let us be about celebrating Spirit among us and poured out on everyone. Let us spill out of this worship space with such overflowing love and unity that people around us will want to know where we got it and how they might catch some of it, too. Amen.