Pentecost is the forgotten major Christian Holy Day. Like the Holy Spirit is the forgotten person of the Trinity. At least in respectable churches. Let the snake handlers and tongue-speakers have the Spirit. Ok, I’ll drop the joking around.
The Jewish religious calendar had three High Festivals on which all true Jews were supposed to sojourn to the temple: Passover, Pentecost and Sukkot. You know what Passover was, the exit from Egypt. Sukkot was a harvest festival. And like all harvest festivals it looked backwards in thanks for bringing us to this place while looking forward to some better final fulfillment, the last harvest. But what was Pentecost? It was the remembrance of Israel at the foot of Sinai receiving the law. It was the cutting of the covenant of Moses.
Passover fulfillment is rather easy. Jesus is our Passover lamb, and in his resurrection the angel of death passes over us. Sukkot doesn’t have a completed fulfillment. That would happen when Jesus comes to judge the living and the dead. But I often think about All Saints’ Day as a Christian Sukkot. We give thanks for those who came before and where we are. And we look forward to that uncountable number. Pentecost’s fulfillment is ongoing.
Unlike the law of Moses which was a static thing. It was written on stone tablets. It stood outside us as a word. We can read it and understand it and pledge allegiance to it…and then immediately go break it. We can twist it to say what we want it to say. We are all expert lawyers looking for the loopholes. Unlike that static law of Moses, the Christian Pentecost is God’s living covenant with us. It is not outside of us, but resident in our hearts. It is not a word directed at us, but the word of God spoken by us at the right time. It is not the proclamation of what we should do, but what God has done for us. Pentecost is when the things that separate us, primarily sins, are broken down and overcome. The curse of Babel is undone in the working of God. Because God is no longer casting out and spreading abroad but calling all his own to him.
As a living covenant it is one that we can’t control. The Holy Spirit blows when and where and how He wills. Maybe in one time and place and age by Bach and Byrd and Gregorian Chant. And maybe in another by snake handling and tongues. And in yet others by something not yet seen our understood which we can scarcely imagine. This is probably why Pentecost tends to be forgotten. There is nothing scary about a baby placed by his mother in a manger. And Easter is pure joy and triumph. But Pentecost? Pentecost is a walk into the unknown. Young men see visions and old men dream dreams. Male and female alike prophesy. Moons turn to blood. All of which are visual codes for when God shows up, and acts, and changes hearts. Maybe changes our heart. And that can be scary. What does a living God ask of us?
The short answer is love. But that love is rarely our definition. That love is the cross. That love is a fire that burns yet does not consume. At least not the eternal things, even if it might burn away the dross of this mortal frame.
