Feast of the Pentecost
“Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire, which parted and came to rest on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit.” Acts 2:4
Danger!
Beware of fire!
This dire warning is one of the first lessons we learned as children:
Be very careful because fire can hurt you and cause terrible ruin.
But later in life we learn something else:
Fire can also be the source of nearly limitless rewards when used well because it can be transformed from something hazardous into something dynamic and fruitful.
Then fire becomes a powerful source of energy and creativity.
Fire sparked the beginning of the church. Fire symbolized the limitless energy of new vistas to be discovered and new gifts to be used – gifts we didn’t even know we had.
The image of fire calls us to expand our horizons, to embrace a more courageous vision of the little worlds we live in. By an invisible power, fire summons us to break free from our timid, fear-based patterns of complacency and contentment and become people who burn with a passion – who smolder with a craving to scorch the earth with our witness to the love of the God who lights a fire in each of our hearts.
That’s why we call certain people “saints.” They did that. They do that. They allow themselves to be inspired to the point of being immersed in their ardor. They are people who let the fire of Pentecost burn their egos away and radically scald their thinking.
They became a people on fire.
I’m thinking here of people in our own era like Dorothy Day and Thomas Merton and Daniel Berrigan and a host of others who dedicated their lives to making the Gospel of Jesus Christ the heart and center of who they were – people who lived for others; people who are on fire with a passion to pray and to serve and to heal.
In today’s Gospel reading, fire is a sign of dynamism, energy and power – and more. The “tongues of fire” ultimately paint a mental image of God’s love consuming us, transforming us.
You see, Pentecost is not about Jesus. It’s about us, his followers.
Pentecost reminds each of us that we are invited by the Spirit to dream. And we all know that when any community of faith quits dreaming dreams, it has little to offer either it’s members or the wider world.
Like any good dream, Pentecost involves adopting a new perspective on what’s possible, what’s doable. Such dreams rouse our creativity. They trigger new expectations. Such dreams help us see that what we thought was outlandish and impossible may actually lie within our reach.
Maybe I can make a difference. Maybe there can be more justice in this world. Maybe the air we breathe and the water we drink can be clean again. Maybe educating our children can be more highly valued. Maybe the racial divide can be lessened, even eliminated. Maybe the lives of addicts can be healed. Maybe my own resentments and heartaches can be mended. Maybe my ability to love and grant mercy can be greater and greater. Maybe God is truly here with me, even if my current struggles never go away. Maybe even I can be a saint.
Maybe, maybe …
You complete the sentence.
Pentecost is about dreaming new possibilities and experiencing fire in my soul to re-create and re-new and re-build.
There is a little prayer that we might want to make a standard in our daily routine – a prayer that begs the Holy Spirit to repeat that experience in today’s reading in each of our lives:
“Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and enkindle in them the fire of your love.”
Come, Holy Spirit, and allow that fire of your love to burn away all that holds me back from passionately embracing the dream that you offer to each of us – the dream of living lives of freedom and justice and mercy.
Come, Holy Spirit! Come with the fire of Pentecost!
Ted Wolgamot, Psy.D.
