Pentecost A 2026

​THE REV. E. WAYNE ROLLINS

​ Today marks the end of what used to be called Eastertide. The name of the day, Pentecost, means “fiftieth day.” That name doesn’t come from our use of it being fifty days after Easter Sunday. It’s older than that, which we can gather from Luke’s opening words in today’s first lesson. 

When the day of Pentecost came, he tells us. It’s an ancient Jewish agricultural festival, marking the beginnings of the Spring harvest. Life returns after the long winter, and signs of ongoing nourishment make themselves known. Hold onto that thought. 

Today’s Gospel lesson gives us a very different story. It’s the evening of the day of Jesus’ resurrection, not the fiftieth day after. The disciples gather in fear, trying to make sense of what they’ve heard that day in light of what they saw with their own eyes just a few days before. Again, life comes back, even after a grueling, horrifying week. But unlike seeds planted in early Spring for radishes, peas, and lettuce, this life emerging from the ground is not what they expected. 

Jesus says, “hey y’all” and then breathes on them. “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Then he gives them the quick start instructions to go along with the user’s manual he’s been trying to show them for a few years. 

So, who gets it right, Luke or John? 
It doesn’t really matter, does it? 

I say that because the Spirit makes an entrance a bit before day one. A wind from God hovered over the face of the deep. Wind. Breath. Spirit. Ruach, the ancient ones called it. A bit later, God breathes into the human’s nostrils the breath of life. Jesus breathes on the disciples. Luke describes a rushing wind, maybe like Elijah heard while hiding in the cave. 

Air gives life. The heart depends on getting enough oxygen to nourish its muscle and keep pumping. Let the oxygen levels get too low, and bad things start to happen. Air is necessary for speech, including those first words “Let there be light.” Yet, when the wind roars loudly, speech becomes difficult, hearing nearly impossible. 

We know that sometimes the air, the spirit we breathe is not healthy. We learned that lesson, again, the hard way during the Covid pandemic a few years ago. We also know that the spirit filling the air around us is often working to steal us away from the Holy Spirit that reveals God’s presence among us. The air, the spirit, seems heavy with the pollutants of greed, hatred, division, even self-worship and fleeting desire. We might call those “advertising” or, sadly, politics as usual. 

Okay, enough, um, “air.” 

​The point is not about deciding exactly when the Holy Spirit arrived. The point is that the Holy Spirit has been there all the time. You ask where? Reach out, and touch air. Inhale, then exhale. At uncertain and difficult times, gasp. Or, pause in the middle of turmoil and take a deep breath.

Paul tells us that the Spirit is the enabler of everything from our proclamation of faith to the good work that we do. It’s a reciprocal relationship. The Spirit enters, words and works of faith exit to reveal the Spirit’s presence. That is our sign, the revelation of the truth of our hope in the risen Christ. The Spirit is the source of our life, the work we do a celebration of a profound truth in its harvest. And it is the type of spirit we nurture within us that helps us determine whether the spirit we take into ourselves is from God. It’s why we need to continue to come together and hear again the words that lead us into truth—which is again, the work of the Holy Spirit.

God continues to come to us, continues to give the breath of life to us. And each breath is renewing, each inhalation and exhalation of the Spirit different from the last. And then, one day, the final exhalation will return the Spirit of life, mixed with our own spirit, back to the Creator and Giver of all life.
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It’s why we can begin and end this day with a full, Spirit-filled voice. Alleluia. Alleluia.