Acts 2: 1 - 21

2 When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. 2 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. 3 Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. 4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

5 Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. 6 And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. 7 Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? 8 And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? 9 Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, 11 Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” 12 All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” 13 But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”

14 But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. 15 Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. 16 No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

17 ‘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.
18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
    in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
        and they shall prophesy.
19 And I will show portents in the heaven above
    and signs on the earth below,
        blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
20 The sun shall be turned to darkness
    and the moon to blood,
        before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
21 Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’

I've always found myself in the middle of transitions. When I was in elementary school, our district changed so that the high school took freshmen, the the junior high schools became middle schools (6th-8th grades), and all the elementary schools became K-5. We had three different principals in elementary school while I was there. At church in middle school, I had three youth group leaders during my three years. In high school, I had three high school youth group leaders in four years. In high school, the schedule changed to accommodate the high school exit exams and institute portfolio work for each student (neither of which I took a part of). I watched technology transform school as my papers went from being written with pen and paper to being written on a computer. Research went from studying books in a library to finding web resources from library databases. In college, the theology curriculum was being changed while I was going through the program. During my high school and college years at my church, I watched our church transition between 3 pastors in 7 years, and watched as a 1000+ member church was reduced to just over 100. In seminary, the curriculum at Princeton Seminary changed to reduce the required number of credits for graduation from 90 to 78. My first job in a church after seminary was with a youth group that had just gone through 3 youth pastors in two years. I became the fourth to leave. at even at Fuller Seminary, I've watched as my boss went from being my boss to being CIO, I've seen a president of 30 years retire, and all of the deans of every school at Fuller transition to someone new as well as seeing two new deans installed.

I look at a passage like this on Pentecost Sunday and see the same type of transition happening again. The cataclysmic event has already happened as we talked about last week. The stage has been set for change. Jesus has turned everything on its head. He was crucified, dead, and buried; and then suddenly in three days he is back, risen, resurrected. His disciples are expecting great things, and Jesus once again tells them that more change is still to come. And then ... they wait. We don't really know how long it takes for them to see the day of Pentecost come. In Acts it seems very rapid fire, but it could have been some time.

I want to pause here and say I think this is how our Christian lives tend to play out, is it not? How often does it feel like we're waiting for the next thing to happen? The next big event that will turn everything around, that will set everything right, that will just start whatever it is that we're waiting for? I think part of the reason it is important to remember Pentecost and celebrate it is because it is a reminder that we are waiting for something special and that our waiting is worthwhile. In the transitions I've experienced, waiting is always a big part of it. And it can be agony to wait. It feels like idle, wasted time. But part of the message of Pentecost is that our waiting is for a reason, and when the change comes, it comes in a big way.

It takes the disciples by surprise. In a room locked away, private, where they are waiting and unsure of how things will play out now that Jesus has come, the Spirit comes. And it comes like a hurricane. It fills the house and it fills the disciple, and something amazing begins to happen. They receive power. Remember back to Acts 1:8: "You receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you and you will be my witnesses..." And so it is. They begin speaking in languages they had never learned or spoken before, even perhaps that they had never heard before. And in the midst of Jerusalem (again, think Acts 1:8), they begin witnessing to the power of God.

Take a moment to reflect on that. Have you been in a situation like that before? Can you think of a time when you received power like this? Maybe not to this level, but when you got the courage to go through something you never thought you could face; received the words you thought you wouldn't be able to come up with on your own; the resolve to face a problem you thought was insurmountable? That's the power that the disciples received, and it's the power you receive when the Holy Spirit rests on you and when you trust in the Spirit's power. It is an awe inspiring moment.

Yet in this moment, there is still something unsettling. Pentecost is the beginning of the transition, and change is never without pain. You get the sense that the Jews witnessing this are frightening by it. And shouldn't they be? Put yourself in their shoes for a moment: these disciples of Jesus, who were with one of the most disruptive figures in Jerusalem and Judea, are now in the streets speaking (probably yelling) in foreign languages. I would be scared! I'd probably think they were possessed! You get this mixed sense from the text that the Jews are both amazed and frightened all at once. But you also have those who are simply dismissive. You have some Jews who are basically saying, "Clearly these guys are drunk." This leads to one of the best lines of scripture given by Peter: "Hey, we can't be drunk, it's only 9 in the morning!" But you sense that this transition is painful, unsettling, scary.

But perhaps the most scary of all is that this transition is not just about those listening; it's also about those proclaiming. At this point, the biggest transition has happened for Peter, James, John, and the rest: they are no longer disciples. They have become apostles. They are no longer the ones sitting at Jesus' feet only to learn; they are now the ones called to have others sit at their feet and proclaim the Gospel.

And it's the same call that we are given on this Pentecost Sunday.

The problem with waiting is that sometimes we become complacent with waiting. We are content to sit on our hands and do nothing and wait for someone else to take up the mantle. I think too often in the church that's the attitude we have. We'll wait for the sign from God, we'll wait for the right person to show up, we'll wait for the right curriculum to be produced, we'll wait and wait and wait and wait until finally we've forgotten what we're waiting for. Part of the message of Pentecost is that the wait is over. The Spirit has come and come with power. And we have been called, each of us, to take up the mantle and go forward. We have been called to be apostles proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ.

This doesn't mean that we stop learning or stop being disciples altogether. We do not possess the wisdom and goodness of Christ, but we point to it and are constantly subject to it. But we are never meant to be only in the disciple posture. The author of Hebrews talks about it in term of food. The author says that at some point we need to get off the baby milk and start eating the real food. At some point we have to stop filling the bottle and actually start cooking. We get to a point where words are not enough; action is needed. And on Pentecost Sunday, we are reminded that we have been called not just sit at the feet of Jesus, but to walk in Jesus' footsteps and follow him.

That's a scary thing. Like any transition, there is always fear and uncertainty. Is this new plan going to work? Do we really know if we're going in the right direction? Are we sure that this is really what we're supposed to be doing. But the promise that we have from Jesus is that we're not walking alone. We are walking in the Spirit. We are moving in the Spirit. We are led by the Spirit. And it is in the Spirit that we have power.

So as we leave here this morning, remember that you go called to be not just a disciple, but an apostle. You have been given the task, the honor of being God's witness, the one who testifies on behalf of God, pointing to Jesus and the Spirit. You do not go alone but in the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.