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"The power of Pentecost is inseparable from the good news of the Christ who is proclaimed in the Gospels, in accordance with the Scriptures." Pentecost may well be the most misconstrued day on the church calendar. A long legacy of cessationism has drained Pentecost of much of its significance, and it's largely misunderstood in many Western churches today, if not outright ignored. That's not the case in Emilio Alvarez's tradition, though. In this Fullness of Time volume, the Pentecostal bishop and theologian offers us a rich biblical and theological introduction to the day of Pentecost and sets it in its liturgical context—not only in the Protestant tradition but also in Catholic, Orthodox, and Pentecostal expressions. The result is a rich theological feast and an invitation to find afresh the power of the gospel for all peoples. Each volume in the Fullness of Time series invites readers to engage with the riches of the church year, exploring the traditions, prayers, Scriptures, and rituals of the seasons of the church calendar.
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ESAU MCCAULLEY, GENERAL EDITOR
Christians of all traditions are finding a renewed appreciation for the church year. This is evident in the increased number of churches that mark the seasons in their preaching and teaching. It’s evident in the families and small groups looking for ways to recover ancient practices of the Christian faith. This is all very good. To assist in this renewal, we thought Christians might find it beneficial to have an accessible guide to the church year, one that’s more than a devotional but less than an academic tome.
The Fullness of Time project aims to do just that. We have put together a series of short books on the seasons and key events of the church year, including Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, and Pentecost. These books are reflections on the moods, themes, rituals, prayers, and Scriptures that mark each season.
These are not, strictly speaking, devotionals. They are theological and spiritual reflections that seek to provide spiritual formation by helping the reader live fully into the practices of each season. We want readers to understand how the church is forming them in the likeness of Christ through the church calendar.
These books are written from the perspective of those who have lived through the seasons many times, and we’ll use personal stories and experiences to explain different aspects of the season that are meaningful to us. In what follows, do not look for comments from historians pointing out minutiae. Instead, look for fellow believers and evangelists using the tool of the church year to preach the gospel and point Christians toward discipleship and spiritual formation. We pray that these books will be useful to individuals, families, and churches seeking a deeper walk with Jesus.
But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.
ACTS 1:8 NKJV
But you shall receive power.”
Imagine being a first-century Jewish fisherman or homemaker in Roman-occupied Judea and hearing these words. Amid the sociopolitical, socioreligious, and socioeconomic upheaval of the times, the promise of power to a first-century Jew would have been greatly appealing. Such conditions were adverse to the freedom, independence, and prosperity promised to the children of Israel in former covenants, and if anything can be said to be true today in comparison to the time in which the promise was made, it’s that people yearn for power.
If, as Esau McCaulley puts it elsewhere in this Fullness of Time series, “Lent is inescapably about repentance,” then Pentecost is inescapably about power. So what kind of power dynamics are involved in Pentecost? Does Pentecost promise political or economic power? The New Testament writers use the word power in one form or another over 120 times, translated from roughly six different Greek words: exousia, dynamis, ischys, kratos, energeia, and biastēs.1 Of these, the two words connected to the coming and abiding presence of the Holy Spirit and its promises are dynamis (power) and exousia (authority). When Jesus tells his disciples in Acts 1:8 that they would receive power (dynamis) when the Holy Spirit came upon them, he was speaking of the inherent power or strength to perform miracles, or to have moral power or excellence of soul.2 Yet he also speaks to them about the power (exousia/authority) that has been given to him (Matthew 28:18), which he in turn gives to his disciples to cast out evil spirits and heal the sick (Matthew 10:1).
Today’s contemporary ways of both being in and reflecting on the world usually prevent us from grasping the magnitude of what Jesus’ promise of power meant to his disciples, let alone what it means for us today. What was true then is still true now: most people in the world feel powerless. Religious, political, economic, and relational circumstances have us all asking questions: What’s going on in the world—or, for that matter, the church? Why is such-and-such happening? What can we (normal everyday believers) do about it?
Today, however, it seems as though believers are more focused on power apart from its pneumatological or christological context and instead have become consumed by presidential power, economic power, or military power. Of course, as human beings in a world of commerce and information technology, we must grapple with these notions, yet it seems we emphasize them over the power that derives from the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.
Indeed, even in Jesus’ day many saw his ministry as a movement of social and political power that would produce change. This is evident in the Gospel of John where the people, after seeing that Jesus has the power to provide sustenance, attempt to make him king by force (John 6:15). To be certain, power does mean having the ability or authority to produce change both personally and in others. As Brigid Harrison, an American academic, author, and professor of political science at Montclair State University, suggests:
Power is exercised over individuals and groups by offering them things they value or by threatening to deprive them of those things. These values are the base of power, and they can include physical safety, health, and well-being; wealth and material possessions; jobs and means to a livelihood; knowledge and skills; social recognition, status, and prestige; love, affection, and acceptance by others; and a satisfactory self-image and self-respect. To exercise power, then, control must be exercised over the things that are valued in society.3
Yet this overemphasis on political, economic, or even religious power has actually led to a sense of powerlessness that affects Christian believers from all backgrounds who continue to deal with denominational divides, theological doubt, spiritual apathy, clerical cynicism, and spiritual fatigue. As if things were not bad enough, the current fad toward the deconstruction of Christianity and its negative effects due to the misuse of power and various kinds of abuse within the church has led many believers toward atheism.4
The power we need now is not the power of a certain political branch of government or the promises of power by business leaders. The power we need now is the power of Pentecost, which is intimately connected to the message of the good news of the Christ who lived, died, and was raised, who is proclaimed as gospel in accordance with the Scriptures, who is present in the breaking of the bread, and who is experienced still today by the power of the Holy Spirit.
This power comes not only to us but through us and for us. Just like the first-century Jews living in Roman-occupied Judea, we who live in the here and now suffer the effects of political corruption, financial uncertainty, social injustice, and racial discrimination. And like them, we look for the power to change both our personal lives and the lives of others. Fundamentally, this is what we mean by the Christian celebration of Pentecost.
In spite of the never-ending woes of the world, every year for almost two thousand years Christians of all traditions from all over the world have gathered fifty days after Easter to commemorate, observe, and celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit. Pentecost (the Greek word used in the Septuagint, or Greek Old Testament, for “fiftieth”) has been known by some Christians as the church’s birthday, while for other Christians it speaks of the empowerment of the church by the Holy Spirit in order to accomplish the mission it was given. To be clear, in celebrating Pentecost we do not celebrate the active work of the Holy Spirit as if it were never present. To the contrary, at Pentecost we acknowledge and celebrate that the Spirit who was active at creation, throughout history, and in the ministry of Christ now, as Laurence Stookey suggests, “constitutes the church of God.”5
There are those who in commemorating Pentecost hold in tension the narrative of Acts 2 as read through the lens of Joel 2:28 with the spiritual phenomenon that occurred in 1906 during the Azusa Street Revival in Los Angeles, the origin of the modern Pentecostal movement. This type of bodily kinesthetic worship involved swaying and dancing as well as the joyful raising and the clapping of hands. For these Pentecostals (in a spiritual or denominational sense), the Azusa Street Revival was a renewal movement that, according to Arthur Wallis, emphasized “the fullness of the Holy Spirit as a distinct experience, and its affirmation that the supernatural gifts of the Holy Spirit bestowed at Pentecost have never been permanently withdrawn from the church.”6 Others in the Christian tradition adopt a more liturgical, ritualistic practice regarding Pentecost, one that includes ancient prayers and Scriptures, which we will also examine within this work.
Interestingly, Pentecost is the oldest season of the church’s calendar year, going all the way back to the Jewish feast or festival of seven weeks.7 It is so called because it was celebrated seven weeks or fifty days after Passover, which now corresponds to Triduum. The actual day of Pentecost celebrates the descent of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:1-13), the recapitulation (retelling) of the historic promise of the Spirit, the retelling of the great gospel story (Acts 2:14-39), and the growth of the church in the power of the Spirit (Acts 2:40-47).
A fact not readily known is that before the fourth century, Pentecost (as well as Easter and Ascension) were all celebrated together as one Paschal feast.8 The developments that contributed to Pentecost being celebrated as a standalone feast within the Christian calendar are said to have come from the need for more Christian feasts or holidays over and against pagan feasts.9 Another surprising fact is that Pentecost is one of three festivals (Passover, Pentecost, and Sukkot) that are considered “Pilgrim Festivals.” They are called Pilgrim Festivals because in ancient times, when the temple was in Jerusalem, Jews were required to make pilgrimage to pray at the temple on each of these festivals (Exodus 34:23).
The concept of pilgrimage in general has to do with making a certain journey to a certain sacred place laden with religious meaning. During a pilgrimage the pilgrim concentrates not so much on arriving at their destination as much as the time between when they start their journey and when they arrive.
Journey is a crucial concept for us to understand as we view ourselves as both pilgrims and sojourners during Pentecost. To celebrate Pentecost is to acknowledge that, first and foremost, as believers in Christ, we are strangers and sojourners in the world, holding temporary residence (1 Peter 2:11-12; John 17:14-15), yet just as the Jews traveled to the temple in Jerusalem three times a year, we are also pilgrim believers on a journey. As Hebrews 11:13-14 describes, we are part of our ancestors (Abraham, Abel, Enoch, Sarah, and Noah), heroes of the faith who died in the faith knowing they were “seeking a homeland.” And just as the fathers and mothers of old, as well as the rest of the church triumphant, during Pentecost we include ourselves in the pilgrimage that ultimately leads to our final destination: eternal life in heaven (Matthew 24:13). As Psalm 84 reminds us:
Blessed is the man whose strength is in You,
Whose heart is set on pilgrimage.
As they pass through the Valley of Baca,
They make it a spring;
The rain also covers it with pools.
They go from strength to strength;
Each one appears before God in Zion.
(Psalm 84:5-7 NKJV)
The season of Pentecost is not only about the promise of spiritual power that aids us in our everyday living but about the power given to us so we might become children of God (John 1:12) and, as children of God, strangers in the world and pilgrims journeying toward our heavenly eternal home. This pilgrimage is not to the temple in Jerusalem but to the temple that lies within, which has not been made by human hands (Acts 7:48). The pilgrimage that Pentecost’s celebration brings to our remembrance is a journey toward our own hearts. Pentecost is a time (as we will see) where we take each of the fifty days to travel closer and closer to the God who dwells in our hearts. We are inspired as Christian believers to take this journey day by day, equipped with our own personal experiences, biblical stories and Scriptures, prayers, and, yes, even symbolic rituals.
Before we move on from the notion of Pentecost as pilgrimage, I believe it is of ultimate importance that we decipher whether we are acting as pilgrims or tourists in our Christian celebration of Pentecost. Peter Bremer, a teacher and scholar of American religious history, quotes Professor Peter Brown as saying:
The difference between pilgrimage and tourism has to do with the worthiness of the traveler. Pilgrims. . . go on their journeys to make themselves worthy to experience praesentia, the physical presence of the saint. . . . Pilgrims’ travels, at least ideally in Christian practice, amount to an exercise in humility, dedication, and faith.
In contrast, tourists travel with an attitude of entitlement. They enter holy grounds as consumers of the sacred, rather than as humble souls worthy of the sacred presence.10
As Brown notes, the difference between the pilgrim and the tourist has more to do with the inner workings of the heart than the outward action of traveling feet. For the pilgrim, the road traveled is not for the pleasure of sightseeing or consumerist enjoyment but for embracing the suffering and hardship of a difficult road, which becomes the tool of our humility. It is in this act of pilgrimage that we join the countless martyrs of the faith, counting ourselves with them as worthy. As we reflect on Pentecost as journey, we must ask ourselves a question: Are we truly pilgrims willing to endure hardship, suffering, and humility along this deep path toward our own hearts? Or are we tourists looking to be entertained by notions of what’s better for me and mine?