The most potent symbol of Pentecost is fire – the “flames like tongues of fire” that appear to the disciples of Jesus gathered in the upper room and which come “to rest on each one.” And the fire itself is the sign of the Holy Spirit with which the disciples are filled and so transformed from a company rendered leaderless by the death and departure of Jesus into something new, the nascent Christian church, the new embodiment and instrument of the Spirit which had been in Jesus. With the Spirit within them and among them they were ready to take the gospel of love to new audiences across the world. If we are, in some sense, the inheritors of that Spirit then it is appropriate that we begin our worship with fire – and it is one reason why the flaming chalice is the symbol of our faith community.
Fire was one of the most powerful symbols of the Divine in the ancient world. It was one of the four elements of which the universe was believed to be composed. It was the great and fiery force envisioned by the Stoic philosophy of the Graeco-Roman world, and which was to influence Christianity as it spread and developed. It is significant that fire’s identification with the Holy Spirit became a major aspect of Christian symbolism. Thus the great theologian, Augustine of Hippo – who lived in the 4th and 5th centuries – could write in his confession of faith, “By your gift, the Holy Ghost, we are set aflame and borne aloft, and the fire within us carries us upward…It is your fire, your good fire, that sets us aflame and carries us upward.” ‘Confessions’, XIII: 9).
The account of Pentecost in the Acts of the Apostles was written by Luke, author of the third canonical gospel, maybe fifty years after the events described. By this time any adult who had actually been there would have been dead, so the story we have would have been based on an inherited tradition. But Luke was neither a journalist nor a historian. He was an evangelist and his purpose was entirely spiritual – to preserve and to spread the good news of Christ. He puts this into the mouth of Peter: “I am speaking of Jesus of Nazareth, singled out by God and made known to you through miracles, portents, and signs, which God worked among you through him.” Peter says that “Heathen men” – meaning the Romans – crucified Jesus, but that “God raised him to life again, setting him free from the bonds of death.” (Acts 2: 22-24). “Repent”, says Peter, “and be baptised…in the name of Jesus the Messiah…and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” (Acts 2: 38) And many do and the Church is born.
But Luke was writing for a later audience than those actually present at that Pentecost in Jerusalem. Luke’s target audience were at least as likely to have been Greek as Jewish, including many who were known as ‘God-fearers’ These were people who, although Gentiles, had already been attracted by the Jewish religion and attended worship in synagogues. Such people were a primary target for Christian preaching and proved to be a receptive audience for its message. Christian salvation was not restricted to Jews, and Gentile Christians did not have to become Jews. The Christian Church envisioned by Luke had its roots in Judaism but it was universal in its hope and its ambition. It called all people to walk in the Way revealed in Jesus, the Anointed One, and to form a new community that embodied his Spirit.
Now, how each of you may understand the events of Pentecost, as set out in the Acts of the Apostles, I don’t know. But whatever happened to that company of disciples in the aftermath of the death of Jesus, it was surely something dramatic, something profoundly inspiring, something that revived them, something that renewed their faith in a remarkable and powerful way. The story of the “flames like tongues of fire” was their affirmation that God, the Holy Spirit, the great and fiery force, had acted to forge a new community whose task and destiny was to be Christ’s continuing presence in the world.
Pentecost was thus a turning point in human history and one which cannot be denied whether or not you are a Christian. From it arose one the world’s great religions and all that went with it for good or, sadly, for ill. But it is not with religious institutions that I am concerned today, not with the creeds and doctrines that Christians have created, debated, argued and fought over for many centuries. For me, the heart of Christianity is the creation of communities that are united in love and which stand for compassionate living, for mercy and reconciliation, for justice and oneness in a world that always needs them. The vision of the Kingdom of God, of a Global Commonwealth at peace with itself, may be the ideal to which we aspire, but it is in working for it, not finally achieving it, that we can bless the world and so find salvation. This has nothing to do with being rewarded for believing the ‘right’ things or performing the ‘right’ rituals. Rather it is the unsought result of living truly and lovingly, of making simple human kindness the heart of your life in this world. This, it seems to me, is what Jesus taught and it is in communities that proclaim and live this gospel that the Holy Spirit is made manifest.
The ‘great and fiery force’, that ancient concept of divinity, may have entered Christianity in the form of Pentecost’s “flames like tongues of fire”, but dramatic and vivid though this imagery is, it is not what, for me, is most important about this remarkable occasion. Rather, this is what it says about community, and in particular about a community that was to change the world and remake human hearts.
In chapter one of Acts we are presented with what had been the Jesus community as it was in the weeks following the crucifixion. They are gathered in the upstairs room which had become their refuge in Jerusalem and where they were “constantly at prayer.” They included the eleven original apostles, and top of the agenda was the appointment of a replacement for Judas Iscariot. Two candidates are put forward and lots are drawn. The man chosen was called Matthias, who thus received “the office of ministry and apostleship”. It is clear that the community consisted of a lot more than just the apostles. There were men like Matthias and his fellow candidate, Joseph Justus Barsabbas. There was a group of women, presumably that led by Mary Magdalen, although she isn’t named. And there was Mary, the mother of Jesus, along with his brothers. All told some one hundred and twenty people were there. And we read in Acts chapter two that when “there appeared to them flames like tongues of fire” these were “distributed among them…coming to rest on each one” and “They were all filled with the Holy Spirit.” That is to say, not just the apostles and not just the men.
This is borne out later when Peter quotes the prophet Joel: “and your sons and daughters shall prophesy…Yes, on my servants and my handmaids I will pour out my Spirit…and they shall prophesy.” This picture of the community as one where women take their place equally with men is rather different from the way things are sometimes portrayed. Rather it reflects what Paul has to say about the early church communities, where women occupied leading roles on a basis of equality.
Another feature of the Pentecost story is its affirmation of ethnic and national diversity – with these Galilean disciples speaking to “devout Jews drawn from every nation under heaven.” The nationalities actually mentioned include territories across the eastern Mediterranean as well as Rome itself, showing that the Jewish diaspora at that time was widely spread and well-established throughout the eastern half of the Roman Empire and even beyond. It was through these Jewish communities – and particularly their Gentile, God-fearer adherents – that Christianity was to spread. In the Pentecost story this is anticipated by the inclusion of “proselytes” – converts to Judaism – among the pilgrims gathered in Jerusalem.
This inclusiveness anticipates a wider Christian community, even a universal Christian community, as the gospel is disseminated among many peoples. And the Pentecost story also tells of a new kind of community. We are told that “the whole company of believers was united in heart and soul. Not one of them claimed any of his possessions as his own; everything was held in common.” As a result, “There was never a needy person among them.” This radical communism was to inspire many similar experiments down the centuries, and although neither the original nor its imitators lasted very long, it did bring with Christianity the ideals of mutuality, equality and caring community which remain an important part of our social and political life and discourse. At its best, it raises our sights above untrammelled greed and selfish individualism. Seeing social justice and basic equality as a gift of the Holy Spirit is an inheritance that continues to inspire, its emphasis on love and compassion saving it from the fate of less human and more mechanistic ideologies.
The birth of the first Christian community at Pentecost, as pictured in the Acts of the Apostles, is relevant for us because we too are a community of the Spirit, aspiring to live lovingly together, to uphold the vision of the Kingdom in human society, and to foster just and compassionate living in ourselves and in all who share our wider communities with us. Our message is important. We are called to witness to it and to live it. And we are called to do so in this community, each of us playing our part as active and committed members of it.
Ipswich Unitarian Meeting House 