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.
Acts 2:1-21
Now there were devout Jews from every people 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, “Fellow Jews[a] 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.
Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
in those days I will pour out my Spirit,
and they shall prophesy.
And I will show portents in the heaven above
and signs on the earth below,
blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
The sun shall be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood,
before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’
My sermon from Pentecost (May 24, 2026) on Acts 2:1-21.
So a few days ago, I did something I haven’t done in awhile: I went to an actual movie theater to watch a movie. It was, after all, the opening day for the new Mandalorian and Grogu movie and the Star Wars fans in my household couldn’t wait to see it. Memorial Day weekend has, for decades, been viewed as the unofficial start of summer and the summer blockbuster movie is part of that tradition. Even though many of us still have six more weeks of school to get through, we’re already mentally on vacation. We can’t wait to escape real life by going to the shore, the lake, or simply visiting family and friends. Summer, we imagine, is when we temporarily leave our worries, anxieties, and fears behind. The big screen full of action, adventure, and all kinds of special effects can create a moment of peace that soothes our soul. Taking a moment to visit a place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, is – for me – what summer is all about. And it was sort of fascinating how, during the countless commercials and previews before the movie even began, the idea of movies being an escape from our lives kept showing up over and over again. We were explicitly invited to forget whatever was going on outside that darkened space and to escape into a new world while eating an obscene amount of popcorn out of a novelty bucket. The large screen, loud music, giant explosions, and fantastical creatures are meant to bring us out of our lives and the world. And so I think it’s pretty interesting that on this Sunday of Memorial Day Weekend, what we hear from the book of Acts is a blockbuster story that pushes us into our lives and into the world instead.
Now one of the things I enjoy within today’s reading – a reading we hear every Pentecost – is how self-referential it is. We, along with those gathered around Jesus’ friends, get to ask “what does this mean?” And one of the ways we try to answer that question is by connecting the tongues of fire, the mighty wind, and the day itself to the entirety of God’s story. Like I said in my children’s message, Pentecost isn’t only a thing Christians celebrate. Pentecost – which comes from the Greek word for fifty – is also known as “the festival of Weeks” and it originally was related to farming and the growing season. The festival marked seven weeks and one day after the harvest started. But over time, Pentecost became connected to Passover since it’s hard to predict when the harvest will actually begin. Pentecost also grew beyond its focus on the food since some recognized how we need spiritual nourishment too. This date, then, is also an opportunity to renew the covenant God made with the Jewish community while also celebrating the giving of the law at Mount Sinai. Beyond the significance of the day itself, the imagery of the wind and fire have been linked to all kinds of things too. Professor Rebecca Dean in a commentary about this passage pointed out how all these special effects have been seen as a description for God. King David sang about a God of wind and fire during a moment of Thanksgiving and Elihu, a sort of frenemy of Job, used that same imagery to describe God’s majesty. When God descended onto Mount Sinai to meet with Moses and give the law, clouds and fire raged all around. And when someone chooses to twist God’s words by acting as if their will is the same as God’s, the prophet Ezekiel promised God’s stormy wrath would surely come. Even the miraculous act of speaking other languages has been connected to other parts of God’s story by seeing it as a reversal of the tower of Babel itself. The wind, smoke, fire, and power has also been connected to Jesus since, at the very beginning of his ministry, it was promised that our baptisms would include water, the Spirit, and all kinds of fire.
We are, I think, drawn to these special effects since, on one level, that’s who we want our God to be. A God with the power to create the universe should, we hope, show up in our own lives with that same kind of might and glory. Our scriptures are full of healings, miracles, and a generosity we want to experience every day. And when we do something – or something happens to us – that undoes who we know ourselves to be, we need a God who can make us whole. Yet there are times when the prayer “Lord, I see what you do for other people and I wish you’d do it for me” is more than a joke we see on a screen. A faith without special effects is a faith that can feel incomplete when life gets hard. Chasing after those special effects can be one of the ways we try to calm our own anxieties, worries, and fears. But wanting a faith that always feels like a summer blockbuster movie is a faith that will struggle when real life comes our way. I wonder, then, if our focus on the wind, fire, and tongues in the Pentecost story, gets in the way of what God is trying to say. And that’s because no one within the story tries to extend or make those special effects continue. Jesus’ friends don’t try to keep those flames over their head nor does the crowd ask them to perform it over and over again. In fact, even asking for an explanation lowers the energy and the intensity of the moment. And when we get the explanation – an explanation that goes beyond what we hear today – we discover how it’s the story of Jesus’ love, presence, and deep connection that moves people to discover what following Jesus might mean for them. Peter invites those in the crowd to not only recognize the new thing God is doing but to also see how God refuses to give up on us and our world. God has – and God continues – to show up in big and small ways to show how much you truly matter. And while we often need the opportunity to momentarily take a break from all the hardships, struggles, and sorrow of the world – that doesn’t mean leaving the world is Jesus’ wish for those who he has already claimed as his own. Rather we are called to follow him towards those who need to know they matter too. Which is why, I think, on that Pentecost after Easter, Jesus’ friends weren’t invited to keep the front door locked and keep those special effects only for themselves. They were, instead, pushed out to tell Jesus’ story to everyone they met. The wind, fire, and speaking in different languages wasn’t the miracle of this story. What made Pentecost special was that God’s story was heard in the words that remind us we are loved, we have value, and we have a home. And rather than wanting Jesus’ story to be tied only to outward displays of power, God knew our faith grows when we make the time to get to know one another. Jesus invites us to recognize that the special effects which strengthen our faith are rooted in the ways we choose to be for each. And the God who has already gone through the blockbuster of the Cross doesn’t want us to escape from the life we live. Rather, because of Jesus, we get to live with one another and show how God’s love makes us – and our world – brand new.
Amen.