Today is Pentecost. The liturgical color is red. And the symbol is fire, or a flame.

Did you ever think how noisy this Pentecostal event must have been?  The clamor of a violent, rushing wind filled the house where they were all gathered together.  Talk to anyone who has survived a tornado.  They describe the roar of a train attacking their home.  It sounds like there are railroad tracks that bisect their living room or that explodes from underneath their bed.  And the 11:05 express is roaring down a detour that runs right through the picture window.  The noise must be unmistakable and unforgettable.  I've certainly heard of people getting religion during such frightening moments, being converted because of a fear‑producing event.  But I prefer the more peaceful, meditative experience of solitude.  I want to be able to  reflect.  Could Pentecost have been so noisy that you couldn't even think?

Invite 25 children to a party.  Fill them with sugar.  Add helium balloons, several cats and a couple of dogs.  Include a rock band that rolls through the house on skateboards circling a clown that does magic tricks.  Now try to have an intelligent conversation without yelling!  That's Pentecost.  Read the story in Acts 2 for yourself.  Notice that the place is at the edge of pandemonium.  The miracle of Pentecost is not the variety of languages being spoken or the first experience of strange tongues that are Spirit‑produced.  The miracle is that anyone heard at all!  It is amazing that in the midst of near‑chaos there was any understanding.  The spiritual revelation that occurred in that house was not in the speaking but in the hearing.

I wonder if the point of Pentecost is that community is being created by God's spirit. And all, anyone, everyone, will be included. That's pretty exciting!