Priority of Pentecost, Part 2: Risk and Reward

In Part 1 of this series, we talked about Jesus’ invitation to “all who are thirsty.” But before we can come and drink at the well of the Spirit, before God can touch us in the deep places, we must open our hearts. Otherwise, it is possible to create such an ordered life that we end up with a hardness of heart that actually protects us from divine intervention. 

It is possible, you know. You can live an ordered life in such a way, even as a churchgoer, that you’re the queen of your heart, the king of your existence, and the last thing you want is for God to come in and upturn the applecart. That would be disastrous. After all, you’ve worked hard, and the last thing you want is for your life to be disorganized.  

Lives Upended

But I want to warn you, and I would be remiss if I did not say it, if you look at the lives of the disciples who gathered on that Pentecost morning, their lives were upended—and publicly, in front of all of their family and friends and neighbors. They were, to many, a public embarrassment: “They’re just drunk, and first thing in the morning at that!” 

Yes. They were completely misunderstood by those who were completely mistaken about what was actually going on. 

If you want to be popular, if you want to be understood by everyone and admired, Pentecost is not for you. An easy life is not given to those who say yes to the Holy Spirit. The very essence of Pentecost is risk. Risk. 

So to open your heart means you’re willing not to be in charge. And the payoff is the sweetness of God’s presence, his power in prayer, an intimacy with him that you’ve only heard about. It means the risk is worth taking. 

See, those who were at Pentecost had already offended most of their family members just by being away from home and gathering to pray. Can you imagine what would happen at your house? If on the Thursday morning of Thanksgiving, you said, “Well, I’m not sure I’m going to be here today.”

“What do you mean? You’re not going to be here? Half your cousins and your grandchildren are coming.”

“Well, I made this commitment.”

“To whom? Who’s more important than your family?” 

“Well, do you remember Jesus?”

“Yeah. He died.”  

“No, I’ve been trying to tell you. We saw him, and he told us to wait in Jerusalem.”

“Yeah, but he didn’t tell you how long, did he? And it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Yes.”  

Now, we know there are 50 days between the resurrection and Pentecost. But Jesus didn’t tell them how long they were going to wait. 

“And what’s supposed to happen?”

“He said we would be clothed with power from on high.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I don’t actually know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? So you’re obeying the words of a dead man, you’re gathering with all these other people who are not members of your family, by the way, and you’re giving up your family time to be with them as you have for the past several weeks, I might add, to the neglect of your responsibilities. And on this day, when all of these people are coming in to eat this huge meal with us, this big and extraordinary celebration, the biggest of the whole year … you’re going to leave us, and leave me to do this all by myself?”

How many husbands and wives have said that to each other for a lot less than Pentecost? So you see, the Christ-followers had already paid the price of being misunderstood when they had gathered together that morning. And they still didn’t know it was going to happen that day, but they certainly felt the pressure.

World Turned Upside Down

God had been weaning them, over the process of those seven weeks, from every other affiliation that would take preeminence over Jesus himself: family, work, whatever the responsibility was. So that, in essence, when Pentecost came in the pouring out of the Holy Spirit, they were, of all people, the most thirsty. Perhaps they even lost their jobs: “You know, if you keep leaving work to go pray, I don’t know if I can keep you on.” 

But they were willing to take the risk, believing that somehow, in the midst of their rather clumsy obedience, that God was going to do something in a way that they couldn’t even ask or imagine. They didn’t know what “being clothed with power from on high” even was, but they waited for it. 

And of course, God gave it to them in a way that was beyond anything they could have ever imagined. They spoke in new languages. It was extraordinary! The city was at their feet. Peter stood up and preached. Thousands came to faith in Jesus Christ, and the world was turned upside down (Acts 17:6). That’s what was said of these people who said yes to Jesus. 

In Part 3, we’ll examine what that means for us. 

What has God called you to risk? Share this blog and your response on Twitter. Please include my username, @revgregbrewer. 

(This post is an adaption of Bishop Brewer’s sermon on June 4, 2017, at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church, Daytona Beach, Florida.)

Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.