Yesterday was Pentecost and when I think of Pentecost, I usually think of the Apostles with little flames on top of their heads. But there is so much more going on. Granted, fire resting on the top of your head is certainly an attention-getter. God chose Pentecost to share the Holy Spirit with the Apostles and perhaps God needed the fire to get their attention. Regardless, it seems like God pulled out all the stops, and the fire thing was just the beginning.

God also allowed all the Apostles to speak and be understood in a multitude of languages to all who were assembled. Now that’s a showstopper! Sometimes I think I miss this part of the Gospel because I’m so focused on the flames.

When the time for Pentecost was fulfilled, they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in different tongues, as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim. Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven staying in Jerusalem. At this sound, they gathered in a large crowd, but they were confused because each one heard them speaking in his own language. They were astounded, and in amazement they asked, “Are not all these people who are speaking Galileans? Then how does each of us hear them in his native language? We are Parthians, Medes, and Elamites, inhabitants of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the districts of Libya near Cyrene, as well as travelers from Rome, both Jews and converts to Judaism, Cretans and Arabs, yet we hear them speaking in our own tongues of the mighty acts of God.” Acts 2:1-11

I find comfort in knowing the Apostles spoke to “the assembled” in their native languages. It reminds me again that diversity in our faith makes us stronger. At times I also find it challenging. We do not need to look the same or love the same or speak the same language or worship in the same manner. God has shared the Holy Spirit with each of us. And my duty is reach out to those unlike myself. God is asking me to afford dignity and respect to all those I encounter. It’s easy to love those folks who look and act like me, but true Christianity means offering peace and reconciliation to those who do not fit so neatly into my idea of a perfect world.

Theologians explain the Trinity as the profound love the parent (God) has for the child (Jesus) which then manifests itself as the Holy Spirit and becomes the third person of God. We were all children once and some of us have even been fortunate enough to be parents, so maternal/paternal love is something we all know. We can feel it but can’t easily put it into words. Sometimes that love is comforting; sometimes it is painfully absent; often it is heartbreakingly bittersweet; it is always overwhelming. We have all felt it and we all need it.

When I pray to the Holy Spirit, I am surrendering myself to God’s will. It can be frightening. It can create uncertainty. It requires trust. It forces me to let go. Like parenthood, it’s the scariest, best thing that I will ever know.

I could use a little fire, metaphorically speaking. I’m not saying I need a flame on the top of my head. But I could be a light.

Peace,

Denis