Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.,
I suspect that when we think of Pentecost, we think of the extra-ordinary events that took place that first Pentecost morning in Jerusalem. We have heard countless Sunday school lessons and sermons describing how the wind roared through the house and how tongues of fire appeared over the disciples heads and, much like Moses’ burning bush or Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, the disciples were not harmed by the fire’s presence. We consider in amazement that these uneducated men were enabled by the Holy Spirit in such a marvelous way. The text isn’t clear: some theologians say that the disciples could suddenly speak in many different languages so that all of the different nationalities could understand. Others say that the Holy Spirit took their words, spoken probably in Aramaic or Greek, and interpreted them in the minds of the hearers so they could understood what Peter and the others were preaching – a true undoing of the confusion at the Tower of Babel. Still others point to the mass conversion of thousands saved through the Spirit’s work in Peter’s preaching.
We love to hear the Pentecost narrative every year because it fills us with awe and astonishment and combined with just enough mystery and intrigue to make us wonder. It’s an exciting sermon to preach and it’s one that people expect to hear.
But this year is different, isn’t it? We’ve spent the last eleven weeks apart from each other as the worshipping body of Christ. We’ve endured loneliness and separation, fear and worry, economic woes and toilet paper shortages. I’ve preached to an empty room, except for my kids, and you’ve had to watch our services from your living room, the Chapel of Saints Pillow, Couch and Recliner. And, yes, while I emphasized over and over that we are still part of the body of Christ and, through Christ, connected to each other even though separated by miles and megabytes of data, it’s just not the same. The body is intended to be a whole and complete, not disjointed and distant.
So this year, when I read the Pentecost narrative, what struck me wasn’t the wind roaring, or the fire flickering; it wasn’t the language barrier being removed or even the mass conversion that would make Billy Graham faint. It was this sentence: When the day of Pentecost arrived, they were all together in one place.
Pentecost was the final day of the Festival of Booths. The Festival was similar to our modern, American Thanksgiving day, but stretched out over seven days. The Festival of Booths, or sukkoth in Hebrew, was a time to give thanks and remember God’s providential care of Israel. The harvest would be complete, so part of the Festival was thanksgiving for God’s providing through the crops gathered in. But, more than just a harvest celebration, it was also a time of remembrance. Each family was to live in a tent as a symbol of the tents they used in the wilderness. During the Festival, Israel retold the stories of how God cared for their ancestors in the wilderness wanderings and how He led them to the Promised Land of Milk and Honey.
On the final day of sukkoth, there would be a procession in the city of Jerusalem from the pool of Siloam up to the Temple. Priests would dip a pitcher of water from the pool and pour it into one of the sacred vessels used that day for sacrifice. It was a two-part purpose: one, of remembering how the Lord provided water to the thirsty Israelites in the desert, and two, as a way of imploring God to send rains for the next harvest to come.
This was Pentecost day, the fiftieth day after Passover. Where Passover was associated with the lamb and with blood, Pentecost was associated with water.
So, what does a Jewish celebration of harvest thanksgiving and exodus remembrance have to do with the disciples in Acts 2, or with us for that matter? Glad you asked.
The people who came up with this abbreviated Gospel reading for this morning, John 7:37-39, do us a disservice. Verse thirty seven simply and abruptly introduces this as “on the last day of the feast.” That’s not terribly helpful. So, go back and look earlier in the chapter. In verse two we discover “that the feast of booths was at hand.” In other words, it’s Pentecost day, a year earlier. Jesus had not yet been crucified, raised, or ascended. Now, remember what I said about water and the pool of Siloam, about remembering God’s gift of wilderness water and prayers for rains to come. With that, consider anew Jesus’ words: If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scriptures has said, Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water. Jesus is about to pour living water into the hearts of those who believe in Jesus as the Christ, the Messiah, the Savior of the world.
This wasn’t the first time He spoke of living waters. Remember the Samaritan woman at the well who gave Jesus water to drink out of Jacob’s well? Jesus promised living water to her, a personal and private gift. But this, Jesus says, is water not just for one woman, or just for twelve men, but for all who believe. On that previous Festival of booths day, Jesus, who tented among us as God in flesh and blood, will bestow His Spirit of living water upon the Church.
This takes place a year later, on the great festival day of Pentecost that we know. In a terrific and magnificent way, so there is no doubt, the Lord both fulfilling His promises to both send another comforter to the Disciples and He pours out living water upon those who believe. Without border and without barrier, living waters quench the thirst of those who seek a righteousness outside themselves.
Now, earlier I pointed out that on the day of Pentecost, the disciples had gathered together. Why is that such a big deal that it deserves to be mentioned when there is so much else to be said?
It had been fifty three days since Jesus was arrested, fifty two days since Jesus was crucified, died, and was buried, and fifty days since the day of resurrection. Ten days earlier, on the 40th day after Easter, Jesus had ascended into heaven, His disappearance marked by two angels who told the disciples to remain in Jerusalem and wait. They did exactly that. They weren’t just idly sitting by, either – they gathered together, devoting themselves to prayer, studying the Scriptures, and slowly understanding more and more how Jesus was the fulfillment of the promised Savior.
Wait. We know something about waiting don’t we. We wait for this, we wait for that. It’s been seventy four days since we made the difficult decision to suspend corporate worship and all activities at Zion. In those days, I imagine you spent your own fair share of time in prayer and in reading the Scriptures for yourself, listening to the streamed services and devotions, and contemplating what you read and heard. In those moments, the Spirit of God was rushing in you through those very words you heard read, living waters were quenching your thirst, enabling you to remain strong in faith, in hope, in trust of Christ as your Savior even as you waited in wilderness exile.
Today, I give thanks that when the day of Pentecost came, the disciples gathered together in one place and I rejoice today that on this Pentecost 2020, many are able to gather together in this room (and also by live-stream) to receive the gifts of God. There aren’t tongues of fire dancing on our heads, or winds whipping down the hallway. No one can accuse me of drunken behavior this morning and there aren’t multiple languages spoken. Those were important things on that ancient Jerusalem morning, for they demonstrated the Christ’s fulfillment of the gift of the Spirit. What there is for you this day is this: irrespective of masks that may be worn, social distances between us, and lack of physical contact, the Spirit-given flood that was poured out on you in your Baptism continues to flow in you to believe Christ is your Savior.
Come, Holy Spirit, quench our thirst for righteousness with Christ, drown our sin, fill us with your baptismal grace that from our faith-filled hearts might flow streams of living water welling up to eternal life. Amen.