Pentecost: Propelled by the Spirit's Downburst

We have recently celebrated Pentecost.  Christians call it the “Birthday of the Church,” when God’s Holy Spirit poured out upon those who had gathered in Jerusalem for Shavuot, or the Festival of Weeks, a harvest celebration.  Just as it had happened when Jesus instituted Holy Communion and gave the Passover (Festival of Unleavened Bread) a new meaning, early followers of Christ infused the Shavuot Festival with deeper meaning.   Now, the celebration focused not merely on the ephemeral abundance of the wheat harvest, but on the absolute abundance of God’s Presence.  

How should we envision this overflowing Spirit?   In the Bible, the book of Acts is the second volume of Luke’s epic tale of the life of Jesus and the history of the early church.  In Acts, Luke, the physician—and master storyteller—presents his orderly account to Theopolis (which means “friend of God,” and could be an individual, but is more likely a reference to all readers) of how the church was born, and how it spread systematically from Jerusalem,  in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth—Acts 1:8.  

Two images Luke uses to describe the Pentecost experience are a “violent wind” and “flames descending”—see Acts 2:1-13.  

Diagram of a thunderstorm showing downdraft/downburst and
gust fronts spreading out from the base. 

As I imagine the “violent wind,” I envision a thunderstorm’s downdraft, where air (and also moisture) rushes down from above and spreads out at the base of the cloud.  An extreme case is called a downburst, which pushes out strong gusts of winds in all directions. 

Just out of curiosity, I checked to see if, and how frequently, Jerusalem experiences thunderstorms.  Interestingly, one of the first articles I saw was from a May 5, 2020 account of “rare” spring thunderstorms impacting Israel.

Of course, Pentecost would’ve been in the spring, so God could’ve used a natural event to deliver the Spirit.  It would’ve been unusual to have an intense storm occur during Shavuot—but not impossible.  Anyone who has ever set straight up in their bed at night after hearing a clap of thunder or seeing and intense lightning flash knows a thunderstorm can certainly get your attention!

Furthermore, meteorology could even account for the “tongues of flame.”  There is a type of downburst called a heart burst that is associated with rapid increases in temperature, low humidity, and strong winds—the perfect conditions to spread a fire. In addition, pyrocumulonimbus clouds form over extremely hot areas like forest fires or volcanoes.  The long word combines pyro, the Latin word for fire, with cumulonimbus, which is the Latin name of the high anvil shaped clouds that commonly produce thunderstorms.  These so-called “dragon clouds” can rise to the upper troposphere (10 km, or about 6.2 mi); sometimes they even pierce the lower stratosphere. They may involve precipitation (although its usually light), hail, lightning, extreme low-level winds, and in some cases even tornadoes.  In some cases, they can literally "rain down" fire!

Whether the Pentecost experience has a completely natural or entirely otherworldly explanation will never be certain.  I tend to think it might’ve been both natural and divine, but in the end, to me, the facts aren’t as important as the act.  Clearly God acted powerfully and profoundly on what we now know as the day of Pentecost.  The best evidence we have of that is the transforming impact it had on those who were there.  Up until this point in the story, the men who were Jesus’s closest friends during his life were hardly stellar examples of faithful followers.  Judas, of course, had betrayed Jesus and was already dead—replaced by Matthias in Acts 1:12-26.  Peter had denied Jesus, even after he confidently (and somewhat arrogantly) promised that “Even if all fall away, Lord, I never will.”  It seems that when the pressure mounted, the so-called Rock of the Church turned out to be very soft stone.  One could say the Rock crumbled under pressure.  We tend to single out Peter, but indeed, it was true of all of them.  When he needed them most, they abandoned him—and we do the same thing all too frequently.  

Fast-forward to about fifty days after the Resurrection.  Picture the scene.  The disciples gather together to celebrate Shavuot.  The downburst of the Holy Spirit fills the room where they are meeting together and “propels” them out into the streets, where a large and diverse crowd of festive Jews from all around the known world are gathered for the Festival.   The Galileans are speaking, but it seems everyone can understand?!  The Curse of Babel is suddenly and miraculously reversed.  Language is no longer a barrier; communication between believers in Jesus flows freely.  To those involved, it is glorious.  There can be no other conclusion: The Holy Spirit, which Jesus promised them would come “with power,” is finally here! 

But what about the ordinary people living in Jerusalem at the time, taking all this in from the outside?  Keep in mind that the population of the city surges every time one of these Jewish festivals happens, no doubt making them grumble about having to share space with so many outsiders.  How does Pentecost make them feel—particularly the non-Jewish onlookers?  What does this diverse crowd spilling into the streets look like to them?  What does it sound like?  Did they see and/or hear the Spirit’s arrival too?  Are they threatened by all of this?  What about the shopkeepers?  They often lived directly above their shop.  Are they concerned for the safety of their place of business when this crowd takes to the streets?  Were they worried that things might escalate and get out of hand?  Did they look to the Roman authorities to restore “law and order”?

We can only speculate about all those questions.  As Luke tells the story, there was a mixed reaction to what was unfolding in their city.  To paraphrase Acts 2:12-13, some were genuinely curious about what all the commotion in the streets was about, and others, as humans are wont to be, were cynical.  To put it in our modern vernacular, we might imagine them saying something like:

Yeah, you’re filled with the spirit alright.  But isn’t it a little early in the day to be indulging?

In the midst of this comes a shining moment for Peter—see Acts 2:14-36.  Before now, he has shown flashes of Kingdom eloquence, but he’s struggled to put it all together.  But today he gets it, emphatically stating that what happened today is the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies.  He quotes the prophet Joel among others, who predicted a day when God will pour out his Spirit on all people.  Peter gives a compelling presentation of the Gospel—of Christ crucified and risen.  He makes it clear in no uncertain terms who’s responsible for killing Jesus.  He closes his sermon by saying, “Therefore let the entire house of Israel know with certainty that God has made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified.”

On Pentecost, Peter proves himself to be the person that Jesus knew he had the potential to become all along.  The fires of Pentecost begin the metamorphosis of the Rock.  In Acts, God gradually transforms Peter from the soft sediment seen in the Gospels into a durable diamond.    

Caught up in the Spirit’s downburst, Peter and all his friends are no longer confined to a building. They are sent out into the streets of Jerusalem, into the surrounding countryside, into the cities of the Roman Empire, and ultimately into the entire world, to proclaim the Good News that Jesus is Lord.

In a way, followers of Jesus are called to offer a form of peaceful protest against the dominant powers of our world—and also to proclaim that it is possible to live a different way.  

Jesus promised the Spirit would come with power—and now that power resides in us!  Our vocation, just as it was for those first Apostles, is to evoke that power and stand against evil and injustice whenever and wherever we encounter them, and in whatever forms they present themselves.  For United Methodists, this is part of what we promise to do when we become members of a church.

I think the chorus of the song “Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble” really sums up the call of Pentecost—and I find it especially poignant in light of current events in our world today.  

Open up the doors and let the music play!

Let the streets resound with singing!

Songs that bring your hope,

Songs that bring your joy,

Dancers who dance upon injustice!

As America’s original sin of racism continues to divide us and as violence besieges our cities, this chorus reads like a Joel-like vision of God’s intended future for the human race. Owing to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, we’ve been forced to “close the doors” of our church buildings for several months now.  However, this refrain reminds us that dreaming dreams, seeing visions, dancing on injustice, singing songs of praise, and proclaiming hope and joy, are all meant to be “business as usual” for the people of God.  Eventually, our church doors will reopen, and we will gather in our building for worship.  While I look forward to that day, I hope we never stop being propelled by the Spirit’s downburst out into the world to boldly proclaim to all people the absolute abundance of God’s love.