Both Men and Women


“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.” – Acts 2:17, quoting Joel 2:28

Assembling for the feast of Shavuot, the Spirit roared.
No gentle breeze for us; a tempest howled there
among our trembling circle, through our trembling souls.
The flickering light upon our foreheads did
not shed illumination, no. I saw it as
a portent of our immolation.
Not since the angel told me not to fear
have I been so afraid.

My limbs have dragged my shivering frame
into the streets, which teem with goggling worshipers.
They fight their way upstream along the way
my son last trod beneath the burden of a cross.
How many know, how many care, that Jesus died
abandoned by his follower-friends, attended by
these women who, like me, recall dear Miriam,
who danced before the Law.

The raucous streets resound with Babel sound,
with accents I know well, and languages
I don’t. To my astonishment, one voice is mine,
another comes from Mary here, and Mary there,
and from a hundred other throats. We praise
our God, because when Jesus had been laid into
his tomb, the Holy One rejected our rejection, called
him back to life.

They scoff, of course, that we are drunk (how drunk,
they do not know, for I am filled with Spirit I have never known).
I draw my breath in deep. I plant my feet upon the unforgiving stones.
I start to lift my arm to summon all to hear my words,
and then I hear it: Simon’s voice, my son’s beloved Rock,
against all expectation quoting from the prophet Joel.
Who would have thought it? I rejoice, except: I wonder, when
will faithful people hear a woman’s voice again?

A poem/prayer based on Acts 2:1-21, the Revised Common Lectionary First Reading for Year C, Pentecost Sunday.

The image is The Virgin surrounded by twelve apostles or Pentecost, by Master of the Crucifix of Pesaro (ca. 1380). Photograph by Rama, Wikimedia Commons, Cc-by-sa-2.0-fr, CC BY-SA 2.0 fr, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11148957.

Many artists included Mary among the Twelve in their depictions of Pentecost.

Full inclusion of God’s people does not stop at men and women.

Birthday!

mosaic-409427_1920They didn’t know it was a birthday.

I’m sure they were aware that nearly every day is somebody’s birthday. Maybe they thought about that. Maybe they didn’t. If they did, they probably moved right along, realizing that they didn’t know the person (persons?) whose birthday it was.

And in any case, the birth they didn’t know to celebrate hadn’t happened yet.

“They” were Jesus’ friends and followers, getting together in a house in Jerusalem. It had been fifty days since that terrible and yet miraculous Passover, the Passover during which Jesus had been arrested, tried, convicted, crucified, and killed. It had been forty-seven days since that starting and miraculous Sunday when they found that the Crucified One had become the Risen One, that Jesus walked the Earth once more with a new life and a new power.

The birth, however, hadn’t happened yet, so they didn’t know (fifty days after Passover) that it was a birthday.

They were together to share stories, and take comfort in each other, and to pray.

Suddenly, there came the sound of a great wind, howling through the streets of the city, roaring through old Jerusalem.

Startled, they looked up, and to their astonishment what they saw was as surprising as what they heard. Something like tongues of fire danced about above their heads, just like the candle flames on a birthday cake.

Birthday candles. Like on a birthday cake. The birth was happening.

(OK, I know that they didn’t do birthday cakes with candles in the first century.)

Like a child filled with sugary cake and icing, they couldn’t stay still. They spilled out of the house into the city streets, to find others outside as well. They’d heard the wild rushing wind and come to see what was going on.

Jesus’ friends started telling them. They told them about the wind of the Holy Spirit, but they told them even more: about Jesus and his kindness. About Jesus’ teachings and compassion. They told them about his bravery in the face of death. They told about his resurrection to new life, and they told them how it showed how much God loved them.

How much God loves everyone.

How much God loves us.

It didn’t seem to matter what language the other people spoke, at least not on that day. Jesus’ friends, in that moment, could speak to everyone and be understood.

And so the Church was born.

Photo found on Pixabay offered as public domain.