Acts 2:1-21
“When the Day of Pentecost had fully come, they were all with one accord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting.”
One particular denomination in Christendom has appropriated the name of today’s festival to itself, so that when many people hear the word “Pentecost,” they think of Pentecostalism. And when people think of Pentecostalism, they usually think of a very emotionally-charged kind of experiential, ecstatic piety.
Our Pentecostal friends want to feel the Holy Spirit in their hearts, which gives them the assurance that God truly is a part of their lives.
As they feel God within them, and as they cultivate an interior kind of spirituality that builds on this feeling, they also often sense that God is speaking to them and telling them things. They imagine that God is guiding them, by means of thoughts and desires, impulses and sensations, that he puts into their mind and will.
Some Christian writers have spoken of a widespread phenomenon they call the “Pentecostalization” of Christian worship. Many churches and denominations that have a tradition of singing hymns with theological substance, and of following an order of service that maintains structure and dignity in worship, are now slipping into a Pentecostal way of doing these things.
What those churches now often sing, and how they sing it, is no longer designed to instruct worshipers in the objective truths of the Christian faith, but is calculated to stimulate an interior religious experience and an emotional feeling of closeness to God, through the physiological impact of the music itself.
Now, when we look at what the Book of Acts tells us about what happened on the first Christian Pentecost, is that what we see? Was the real Pentecost in Jerusalem, a “Pentecostal” kind of event?
Instead of describing interior feelings and emotional experiences, St. Luke tells us about several objective, external events that occurred that day. The most extraordinary thing that he reports, is the appearance of flames of fire on the apostles’ heads, accompanied by the apostles speaking in other tongues.
But this speaking in other tongues was a speaking in real human languages, not in an incomprehensible gibberish. The supernatural, miraculous component of this, was that the apostles had never known those languages before, not that the things they said made no sense to earthly listeners.
What they were saying made perfect sense to those who were from the regions where those various real languages were spoken:
“They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. And there were dwelling in Jerusalem Jews, devout men, from every nation under heaven. And when this sound occurred, the multitude came together, and were confused, because everyone heard them speak in his own language. Then they were all amazed and marveled, saying to one another, ‘Look, are not all these who speak Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each in our own language in which we were born? … We hear them speaking in our own tongues the wonderful works of God.”
St. Luke does not tell us about any interior religious experiences the apostles may have been having while this was going on. Rather, he tells us what was being spoken out loud from their lips, in the hearing of others, and for the benefit of others.
I’m sure that the disciples were deeply moved by their experience that day. They were internally changed by this special outpouring of the Holy Spirit, and were given a new courage and new boldness in their proclamation of Christ.
But their subjective reactions to these events were not of the essence of what was going on, and so their subjective reactions are not mentioned in the account. What are mentioned are the objective things that happened: with real languages being spoken intelligibly in praise of God; and with the preaching and sacramental administration that took place after this.
Peter did indeed then preach a sermon, based on a text from the Prophet Joel, and also quoting some passages from the Psalms. This sermon cut his listeners to the heart, driving them to repentance for their part is causing or allowing the death of Jesus, and for sin in general.
But that death of Jesus had won redemption and forgiveness for them, which would now be delivered to them through the external means of grace that Jesus had instituted. And so they were baptized for the forgiveness of sins, through which the Holy Spirit was also bestowed upon them.
And right after that, in the Book of Acts, we are told that the big, new congregation in Jerusalem that God’s Spirit had brought into existence through Word and Sacrament on Pentecost, continued steadfastly in the teaching of the apostles, in the communion of the breaking of the bread, and in the prayers of the gathered Christian assembly.
Their repentance was real and deep, but it was not overwhelmed and defined by emotion. Their faith – continually nurtured now by the means of grace – was a sober-minded faith that was eager to learn, and to grow in the grace and knowledge of the Lord.
Their faith was focused on Christ, on his death and resurrection, and on all that he had accomplished for them in sacred history. It was not a faith that addictively sought after internal experiences and supernatural sensations.
Churches like ours are regularly criticized, and sometimes even ridiculed, for being devoid of the Holy Spirit. Our order of service, our hymns, and our general demeanor as we worship, are often dismissed as unspiritual, as irrelevant to the true religious needs of people, and as mere ritual without any divine power.
But what these criticisms really mean, is that we are not feeding and manipulating emotion, and are not expressing and amplifying a lot of emotion, when we come to church. Instead, we are looking beyond ourselves, to those things toward which the people on the Day of Pentecost also looked.
We are looking to God’s external and objectively true Word: as it is sung and confessed, as it is unfolded in Biblical, law-gospel preaching and teaching, and as it is sacramentally applied to the comfort of our consciences.
As we in our devotion look to the means of grace, which come from outside of us, we know that they bring and deliver to us the gift of the Holy Spirit. They strengthen our faith in Christ and in his promises.
And they renew to us the forgiveness, life, and salvation that God wants us to have and to enjoy, under his Fatherly love and protection.
I am moved when the comforts of the gospel penetrate to my conscience, and when I hear the absolving voice of Christ telling me that my sins are forgiven. A deep peace comes over me when Jesus in Scripture assures me that he is with me in all my fears and trials, and will not forsake me.
But I do not then flail my arms around, jump and twirl, roll on the floor, and scream out meaningless sounds.
There is indeed great power in the words of Jesus, as he speaks them to us from the pages of the Bible, and in the Lord’s Supper. And through the means of grace, God does indeed give us a spirit of power: power to persevere in trials, power to overcome temptations, power to continue to cling to Christ even in the midst of fear and doubt.
And along with a spirit of power, God gives us a spirit of love, so that we ever more deeply care about the needs of others, and not only about the religious high that we might get at church.
And, God gives us a spirit of sound mind. A sound mind, which is the mind of Christ: growing in us according to our new nature, deepening our wisdom, heightening our sensitivities, increasing our knowledge.
St. Paul told Timothy in his Second Epistle to him:
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”
Paul also told the Corinthians:
“The natural man does not receive the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him; nor can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. … But we have the mind of Christ.”
And St. Peter wrote in his Second Epistle that
“No prophecy of Scripture is of any private interpretation, for prophecy never came by the will of man, but holy men of God spoke as they were moved by the Holy Spirit.”
When you look at the prophetic Scriptures that were produced by these holy men, “as they were moved by the Holy Spirit,” you do not see ecstatic and disjointed utterances. What you see on the sacred pages of the Bible are lofty and penetrating statements of divine truth that are coherent, clear, and comprehensible.
And St. Paul furthermore explained to Timothy that these Scriptures, inspired by the Holy Spirit, are “profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.”
Reverently and calmly listening to readings from these inspired Scriptures – which is a central feature of our worship – is not an unspiritual activity. Joining together in singing carefully-worded hymns that unfold and expound the teaching of Scripture – regarding Christ and his church, and regarding human sin and divine forgiveness – is not an unspiritual activity.
The presence and operation of the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost was not manifested through emotional outbursts, uncontrolled gyrations, and mystical experiences.
Rather, the presence and operation of the Holy Spirit was manifested through objective outward signs; understandable declarations about God and his glory; a Christ-centered, Biblically-based sermon; and the administration of a sacrament that Jesus had instituted for his church.
And the result of the Holy Spirit’s working that day was a conscious and sincere repentance on the part of those who heard the sermon, and a comforting and uplifting reception of God’s forgiveness, and of God’s Spirit, on the part of those who were baptized.
To the extent that these things are happening among us, then to that extent we are a truly Pentecostal church – as Scripture defines the meaning of that term. To the extent that the Holy Spirit is powerfully working through the ordered ministry of Word and Sacrament that takes place among us, then to that extent our worship is indeed filled with God’s power to bless and to save, to forgive and to enlighten, to teach and to guide.
The Day of Pentecost did not put the early church in Jerusalem on a pathway filled with wide-eyed excitement.
Pentecost put the church on a pathway filled with divine grace and eternal truth, delivered through the Word of God. Pentecost put the church on the pathway of an informed faith and a confident hope, birthed in the Jerusalem believers by the Holy Spirit.
Jesus did not say:
“The Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will satisfy all your desires for an emotional high, and bring to you new feelings and new sensations.”
No. But Jesus did say:
“The Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things that I said to you.”
Jesus did not say:
Excitement I leave with you, My excitement I give to you; as the world gives, so do I give to you, but even better.”
No. But Jesus did say:
Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you.”
O Holy Spirit, grant us grace That we our Lord and Savior
In faith and fervent love embrace And truly serve Him ever,
So that when death is drawing nigh, We to His open wounds may fly
And find in them salvation.
Help us that we Thy saving Word In faithful hearts may treasure;
Let e’er that Bread of Life afford New grace in richest measure.
Yea, let us die to ev’ry sin, For heav’n create us new within
That fruits of faith may flourish. Amen.