Where Pentecost Happens: Flow like a River, Murmur like a Dove?
Reflection by Rev. Dr. Kathryn Johnson Cameron
John 20:19-23 and Acts 2:1-17
Tuesday morning after our Bible study via Zoom, We thought we were ready for a Pentecost of Peace Like a River. That’s the way John’s Gospel hears Pentecost.
In John’s version, the disciples are sheltering in place after the death of Jesus, fearing for their lives, fearing that such public execution might be contagious. They’ve had to lock the doors to the outside world for their own safety.
Many readers will criticize them for this fear, for their huddling out of sight and riding out the terrorized aftermath of the crucifixion in isolation.
But maybe they weren’t wrong, maybe openly walking in the streets in that moment really would have been deadly for them. And what good would it do for all of them to bear the Cross of Jesus, crucified in a guilt by association situation?
Maybe they were right to shelter in place and go into isolation. Keeping to your own band of followers couldn’t be a permanent solution, of course, but perhaps in the early days when death walks the streets, staying home is what we need to do.
And what a comfort to know, that in the midst of this, Pentecost still comes. Christ still gives the gift of Holy Spirit. Jesus does not leave us comfortless. The Spirit comes right into their homes, right through the locked doors of the room, right into the place where they shelter, right into their isolation. Death cannot stop the Spirit. Fear cannot stop it. Staying at home cannot stop the Spirit.
As John tells it, Christ enters into our homes, behind closed doors, into self-imposed isolation and brings the Holy Spirit—the event of Pentecost—with him:
When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you." After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you." When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you set free
[1]
the sins of any, they are set free; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained."
It’s a different kind of Pentecost. As my neighbor David Henson says: “The dominant images aren't fire and crowds of people in the streets from all over the world. Rather the dominant images are Christ’s wounded peace and the private intimacy among friends. Perhaps it’s those wounds that matter most in a time like this and a time like the disciples were experiencing. Perhaps the gift of peace in the midst of trauma isn’t truly believable unless it is accompanied by the assurance that it comes from one who has endured trauma and death. Maybe it is the wounds of the resurrected Christ that opens up their souls to the gift of the Spirit.”
[2]
Encouraged by our Bible study group, that’s the kind of sermon I was ready to preach Tuesday evening.
Sitting at the table after dinner, I continued reading in John’s gospel, going back to Chapter 1 where the Baptizer introduced Jesus as “the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.” Jesus says in Chapter 3 that his ability to give the Holy Spirit “without measure” will prove that Jesus is from God and speaks the words of God. Jesus promises that “rivers of living water” Holy Spirit would flow like a fountain from his innermost being, his soul.
I reminded myself that by the time we get to the reveal in Chapter 20 we know to look for the ‘Advocate’ in John’s “Pentecost” who will come as a “Spirit of Truth” sent by God to teach and remind followers of all Jesus told them.
So when Jesus appears to those gathered behind closed doors and says, “Peace be with you” I put together the peace, rivers of living water, and the gift of the Holy Spirit and I began humming, “I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.”
This year would be the quiet Pentecost; not so much the Pentecost of Acts with tongues of fire and crowded streets and people from all over the world. Save the dramatic action on the part of the Holy Spirit for when we really need it.
And then Wednesday came.
Loud voices rose up, asking, "What does God require of us when one of our own people can say repeatedly, 'I can't breathe' and is ignored by those entrusted to protect and keep the public safe?"
And like the prompting of a Pentecost mighty wind, even with flames of fire, a powerful demonstration of God's Spirit among us spilled out into the streets of Minneapolis, Minnesota. And we remembered like Peter remembered the voice of the prophet Joel; we remembered the prophet Martin Luther King, Jr. who wrote, "In the final analysis, riot is the language of the unheard. And what is it that America has failed to hear?"
The Pentecost experience of Acts unfolds amid a huge crowd of people from all over the world who have come to jam the streets of Jerusalem. Shoulder-to-shoulder, pilgrims from almost every nation have come to celebrate God’s gift of the Torah, also known as the Law. The people come together to share the first fruits of the harvest. God filled the people with purpose. People waved banners, marched in spontaneous parades; which perhaps explains why some folks thought the disciples might have been drunk; filled with a different kind of spirit. When God's Spirit moves, we sometimes misinterpret Her:
When the day of Pentecost had come, they 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. Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, "Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God's deeds of power." All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, "What does this mean?" But others sneered and said, "They are filled with new wine." But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, "People of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o'clock in the morning. No, 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, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.
And into this busy, overcrowded revelry, the Holy Spirit arrives with a fairly dramatic entrance and sweeps the disciples into the streets like a ground swell rising up to tell the Good News for all to hear in their own languages; in the Word made flesh that has meaning for them, has flesh of their flesh, proclaims their lives matter, that they too speak of God's deeds of power.
That’s the Pentecost in the streets the latter days of this week.
Just imagine how Peter had to holler to preach above the noise. Or maybe he didn’t try to talk over them. Maybe he just murmured low and steady, letting the Spirit speak, like the murmur of a dove. That’s how the hymn writer, Rev. Carl P. Daw, Jr. hears it:
Like the murmur of the dove's song,
like the challenge of her flight,
like the vigor of the wind's rush,
like the new flame's eager might:
come, Holy Spirit, come.
With the healing of division,
with the ceaseless voice of prayer,
with the power of love and witness,
with the peace beyond compare:
come, Holy Spirit, come.
Dr. Daw found his inspiration for this hymn from
A Religion for Our Time
by Louis Evely. Evely described the Holy Spirit saying, “the image of the dove was chosen not because of the shape (visual image) of the bird, but because of the moan. The dove murmurs all the time. It is because the Holy Spirit moans all the time that he is represented under the form of a dove; it is a verbal …image.”
The murmur of a dove in a hymn, like Peter’s tentative speech becoming boldly audible above the crowds are both ways we hear the Holy Spirit as we never have before, if we know how to listen.
Flow like a river, murmur like a dove? Where does Pentecost happen?
Pentecost happens in at least two places in the New Testament and in two very different stories. It happens in the streets with tongues of fire, a violent wind, people who talk and be different yet understand the same Spirit, and it is the same Spirit who gives them utterance.
It’s all intentional, of course. The writer of Acts is making a point about the Spirit is both crossing borders and people bordered by differences the Spirit is gathering into one.
And then there's John’s unconventional Pentecost. At the close of the day, Jesus commissions them. He sends them as he himself was sent. Of course, they are sent physically, but they are sent on a deeper level, too.
And so too God sends us. Sometimes into the streets with a purpose for the coming days, to live with love, to set others free and to receive the Spirit’s peace.
[1]
New Testament scholar, Rev. Matthew Skinner suggests "set free" for the word usually translated as “forgive” and “forgiven” and set free is the opposite of retain.
[2]
Rev. David Henson, my neighbor in Hendersonville, was also a work neighbor when I served FPC of Asheville. David serves Trinity Episcopal Church, Asheville. I am indebted to him for much of this sermon, though I have inverted his original thoughts on the two Pentecost accounts. The interpretation of Acts on the streets of Minnesota is my own stumbling toward understanding informed by the commentary on Acts by Debra J. Mumford, Frank H. Caldwell Professor of Homiletics and Director of Money Matters for Ministry Program, Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary @workingpreacher.org
Starting this day of Pentecost let's join our wider community in a 21-Day Race Equity Challenge hosted by Myers Park Presbyterian Church in Charlotte.
Better when we're back together
