The Fire of Love - Pentecost - Acts 2:1-13
According to Luke in Acts 2, when the day of Pentecost arrived, the disciples of Jesus are gathered together in one place, with Mary the mother of Jesus (who in Luke’s Gospel is a symbol of prayerful trust). Together they are watching and praying – as Jesus had told them to. This scene is symbolic of the church at prayer.
But the disciples (like us) are still an uncertain people. Even after the resurrection, they still do not know what the future holds. They are confused, uncertain, anxious.
And perhaps that is important to notice. Their prayers do not magically remove the uncertainty. Prayer does not always change our circumstances. The world outside is still unsettled. The future is still unknown. But prayer changes people. Slowly, quietly, prayer opens hearts. It steadies us. It deepens our awareness of God’s presence within and around us. It helps move us from fear toward trust.
And prayer itself is not always about saying many words. Jesus warns against empty prayers that simply pile up words. Sometimes prayer can be as simple as whispering “thank you.” Meister Eckhart once said: “If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.” Sometimes prayer is simply resting in the stillness of God’s presence… becoming aware of the sacred life that holds us even in uncertain times. Sometimes prayer may simply be sitting quietly and gently repeating a single word like “thank you” until gratitude slowly softens the heart. And when we pray in that way, something within us begins to change.
And then suddenly, there is a sound “like the rush of a violent wind.” Tongues of fire separate and rest upon them. They begin speaking in different languages, and the crowds gathered outside are astonished because each person hears the message in their own language.
We are told that people from all over the known world are gathered for the festival — Parthians, Medes, Egyptians, Romans, Arabs and many others. Different cultures, different languages, different backgrounds. And yet, according to the story, somehow, through the Spirit, understanding becomes possible – each hears the message spoken in their own language.
As I have suggested previously, many Bible scholars suggest that this story is meant to remind us of another story from the Old Testament, the story of the Tower of Babel. In the ancient story of Babel humanity becomes divided. In their pride people reach up to heaven by their own power and ingenuity rather than through transformed hearts. And so language becomes confused and humanity is scattered in fear and separation. Isn’t that a powerful image of the world today? People talking past one another, shouting over each other. No real communication in the sense of building community as is implied by the very word ‘communicate’.
But Pentecost moves in the opposite direction. At Babel, there is division. At Pentecost, there is connection. At Babel, confusion. At Pentecost, there is understanding. At Babel, people scatter. At Pentecost, they are drawn together into new community. The story of Acts suggests that Spirit of God moves toward connection, toward relationship, toward community, communion, toward love.
And perhaps prayer itself is part of that movement. Genuine prayer softens the walls we build around ourselves. It loosens the grip of ego and fear. It slowly awakens us to our connectedness with others and with God. Prayer may begin in silence and stillness, but if it is real prayer it gradually changes the way we see and respond to the world.
And that brings us to Jesus. The Spirit of Love poured out at Pentecost is the Spirit of Jesus himself — the Spirit that lived in him and moved through him. A Spirit of truth, integrity, compassion, forgiveness. A Spirit that reached across boundaries and welcomed outsiders, a Spirit that broke down walls between people. In Acts 16:7 Luke explicitly refers to the Holy Spirit as the Spirit of Jesus. To be moved by the Holy Spirit is to be moved in the ways of Jesus… to live in the spirit in which Jesus lived, to move beyond fear and separation and into deeper relationship.
And that is not just a religious idea. It is woven into the very fabric of life itself.
Thomas Campbell, a NASA Scientist, who has studied the nature of consciousness has written a book called My Big TOE – his Big Theory of Everything. And even as a non-religious person the conclusion he came to through his studies and investigations is that the purpose and goal of life itself is to grow in love. He says this is the very trajectory of evolution, the evolution of the physical world, and the evolution of consciousness from its earliest beginnings. The trajectory is towards connection and love.
When we look at evolution, we often think only about competition and survival. But there is another side to evolution. When we consider the great arc of evolution itself, we begin to see something astonishing. Evolution moves in two directions simultaneously.
On the one hand, evolution produces ever greater diversity. From simple particles emerge atoms.
From atoms, molecules, then cells, then multicellular organisms. Then fish, reptiles, birds, mammals, human beings, cultures, languages, civilisations. Life becomes increasingly varied, differentiated, and complex.
But at the very same time, evolution also moves toward deeper connection, cooperation, and interdependence. Single cells join together to form multicellular organisms. Individual organisms form ecosystems. Human beings form families, tribes, societies, nations, and now, at a very difficult place in our evolution, we have become a globally interconnected humanity – with all the teething problems that go with that.
The more complex life becomes, the more profoundly interconnected it becomes. Diversity deepens, but so does communion. This is one of the deepest patterns woven into the universe itself.
The forest is not merely a collection of isolated trees. Beneath the soil runs a vast fungal network through which trees share nutrients and communicate with one another. Our own bodies are not singular entities but living communities of trillions of cooperating cells. Even our breath unites us with forests and oceans across the planet.
Life evolves not toward isolated separateness but toward relationship, toward participation, toward communion. Thomas Campbell’s conclusion – the trajectory of evolution is towards love. That he concluded, is the purpose and goal of life.
That doesn’t mean that growing in love is easy. But that is the trajectory… that is the ultimate meaning and purpose of life. Your life, my life, our life together.
And even as a non-religious scientist, Thomas Campbell admits that this truth that he stumbled upon can be found in the teachings of Jesus. The whole meaning and purpose of life in the Scriptures is love: Love for God – the Greater Life – and Love for neighbour. And in the Good Samaritan he reminds us that our neighbour includes the despised other. It is a love that reaches beyond ego, beyond tribe, beyond “us” and “them.” In 1 Cor 13, Paul speaks of faith, hope and love but concludes that the greatest of these is love. You may have no faith. You may not even feel there is much hope, but if you live in love you are living in alignment with God, the Universe and the Trajectory of Life.
There is no way around the fact that Love was at the heart of Jesus teaching – even love for those we don’t like. But that doesn’t mean that love is easy… it might in the end get you crucified.
But the truth is we are hard-wired for love. We are not made for estrangement, enmity, separation or division. We are made for connection, relationship, for love. When people who have been estranged somehow find reconciliation, tears often well up in our eyes. Why? Because we are made for connection. We are hard-wired for love. Separation, division, enmity is painful… why? Because it moves us against the grain of how we have been made.
We were made for unity and community… but that doesn’t mean the journey to get there is easy.
In Romans 8:29, the Apostle Paul speaks of Jesus as “the first among many brothers and sisters.” Perhaps that means that in Jesus we see what humanity is capable of becoming. In him we see a fuller humanity. A humanity no longer trapped in fear and separateness, but awakened to love and connection. Jesus reveals to us the true goal of our evolution.
And perhaps that is what Pentecost is really about. The disciples begin locked away in fear. Concerned for themselves. Protecting themselves. But then the Spirit comes like fire. A fire that changes them. They move outward. They become courageous. They begin speaking across barriers.
A new kind of community begins to emerge. Not a community where differences disappear, but one where love becomes greater than difference.
And notice again where it all begins: in prayerful waiting. In stillness. In openness. In people gathering together, not with certainty and easy answers, but with longing hearts. Prayer had not removed all their fear, but it had opened them to transformation. It had prepared them to receive the Spirit of Love.
That could be called Pentecost consciousness. The opposite of what we might call Babel consciousness.
And if we are honest, much of our world still lives there. We see it in racism, in political hatred, in religious division, in the constant anger and suspicion of modern life. We see it in the darker side of nationalism. It is the consciousness of separateness. But the Spirit of Jesus, and the trajectory of evolution invites us into something deeper. Into the realization that we belong to one another. That beneath all our differences we share one humanity, one earth, one sacred source of life. As Paul says in Ephesians, One God and Father of us all, who is over all, in all and through all.
And so the Spirit of Love draws us into a larger awareness — the awareness of God’s love flowing through all things. That does not mean losing our individuality. Pentecost is not about everybody becoming the same. The miracle of Pentecost is that every language remains distinct, and yet understanding becomes possible.
Love holds diversity together. Like the many colours in a stained-glass window illuminated by one light. And perhaps this is the direction humanity is slowly growing toward. Not perfectly. Not quickly. Often with terrible setbacks. But the deeper movement of life seems always to pull us toward ever wider circles of connection. Toward deeper communion. Toward love.
The fire of Pentecost is still burning in the world. It burns wherever the language of love is spoken, where people are moved by the Spirit or breathe that was in Jesus. And it all begins in Prayer.
For prayer may not always change the world around us immediately. But slowly, deeply, prayer changes us. And changed people can help change the world.
Amen.
According to Luke in Acts 2, when the day of Pentecost arrived, the disciples of Jesus are gathered together in one place, with Mary the mother of Jesus (who in Luke’s Gospel is a symbol of prayerful trust). Together they are watching and praying – as Jesus had told them to. This scene is symbolic of the church at prayer.
But the disciples (like us) are still an uncertain people. Even after the resurrection, they still do not know what the future holds. They are confused, uncertain, anxious.
And perhaps that is important to notice. Their prayers do not magically remove the uncertainty. Prayer does not always change our circumstances. The world outside is still unsettled. The future is still unknown. But prayer changes people. Slowly, quietly, prayer opens hearts. It steadies us. It deepens our awareness of God’s presence within and around us. It helps move us from fear toward trust.
And prayer itself is not always about saying many words. Jesus warns against empty prayers that simply pile up words. Sometimes prayer can be as simple as whispering “thank you.” Meister Eckhart once said: “If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.” Sometimes prayer is simply resting in the stillness of God’s presence… becoming aware of the sacred life that holds us even in uncertain times. Sometimes prayer may simply be sitting quietly and gently repeating a single word like “thank you” until gratitude slowly softens the heart. And when we pray in that way, something within us begins to change.
And then suddenly, there is a sound “like the rush of a violent wind.” Tongues of fire separate and rest upon them. They begin speaking in different languages, and the crowds gathered outside are astonished because each person hears the message in their own language.
We are told that people from all over the known world are gathered for the festival — Parthians, Medes, Egyptians, Romans, Arabs and many others. Different cultures, different languages, different backgrounds. And yet, according to the story, somehow, through the Spirit, understanding becomes possible – each hears the message spoken in their own language.
As I have suggested previously, many Bible scholars suggest that this story is meant to remind us of another story from the Old Testament, the story of the Tower of Babel. In the ancient story of Babel humanity becomes divided. In their pride people reach up to heaven by their own power and ingenuity rather than through transformed hearts. And so language becomes confused and humanity is scattered in fear and separation. Isn’t that a powerful image of the world today? People talking past one another, shouting over each other. No real communication in the sense of building community as is implied by the very word ‘communicate’.
But Pentecost moves in the opposite direction. At Babel, there is division. At Pentecost, there is connection. At Babel, confusion. At Pentecost, there is understanding. At Babel, people scatter. At Pentecost, they are drawn together into new community. The story of Acts suggests that Spirit of God moves toward connection, toward relationship, toward community, communion, toward love.
And perhaps prayer itself is part of that movement. Genuine prayer softens the walls we build around ourselves. It loosens the grip of ego and fear. It slowly awakens us to our connectedness with others and with God. Prayer may begin in silence and stillness, but if it is real prayer it gradually changes the way we see and respond to the world.
And that brings us to Jesus. The Spirit of Love poured out at Pentecost is the Spirit of Jesus himself — the Spirit that lived in him and moved through him. A Spirit of truth, integrity, compassion, forgiveness. A Spirit that reached across boundaries and welcomed outsiders, a Spirit that broke down walls between people. In Acts 16:7 Luke explicitly refers to the Holy Spirit as the Spirit of Jesus. To be moved by the Holy Spirit is to be moved in the ways of Jesus… to live in the spirit in which Jesus lived, to move beyond fear and separation and into deeper relationship.
And that is not just a religious idea. It is woven into the very fabric of life itself.
Thomas Campbell, a NASA Scientist, who has studied the nature of consciousness has written a book called My Big TOE – his Big Theory of Everything. And even as a non-religious person the conclusion he came to through his studies and investigations is that the purpose and goal of life itself is to grow in love. He says this is the very trajectory of evolution, the evolution of the physical world, and the evolution of consciousness from its earliest beginnings. The trajectory is towards connection and love.
When we look at evolution, we often think only about competition and survival. But there is another side to evolution. When we consider the great arc of evolution itself, we begin to see something astonishing. Evolution moves in two directions simultaneously.
On the one hand, evolution produces ever greater diversity. From simple particles emerge atoms.
From atoms, molecules, then cells, then multicellular organisms. Then fish, reptiles, birds, mammals, human beings, cultures, languages, civilisations. Life becomes increasingly varied, differentiated, and complex.
But at the very same time, evolution also moves toward deeper connection, cooperation, and interdependence. Single cells join together to form multicellular organisms. Individual organisms form ecosystems. Human beings form families, tribes, societies, nations, and now, at a very difficult place in our evolution, we have become a globally interconnected humanity – with all the teething problems that go with that.
The more complex life becomes, the more profoundly interconnected it becomes. Diversity deepens, but so does communion. This is one of the deepest patterns woven into the universe itself.
The forest is not merely a collection of isolated trees. Beneath the soil runs a vast fungal network through which trees share nutrients and communicate with one another. Our own bodies are not singular entities but living communities of trillions of cooperating cells. Even our breath unites us with forests and oceans across the planet.
Life evolves not toward isolated separateness but toward relationship, toward participation, toward communion. Thomas Campbell’s conclusion – the trajectory of evolution is towards love. That he concluded, is the purpose and goal of life.
That doesn’t mean that growing in love is easy. But that is the trajectory… that is the ultimate meaning and purpose of life. Your life, my life, our life together.
And even as a non-religious scientist, Thomas Campbell admits that this truth that he stumbled upon can be found in the teachings of Jesus. The whole meaning and purpose of life in the Scriptures is love: Love for God – the Greater Life – and Love for neighbour. And in the Good Samaritan he reminds us that our neighbour includes the despised other. It is a love that reaches beyond ego, beyond tribe, beyond “us” and “them.” In 1 Cor 13, Paul speaks of faith, hope and love but concludes that the greatest of these is love. You may have no faith. You may not even feel there is much hope, but if you live in love you are living in alignment with God, the Universe and the Trajectory of Life.
There is no way around the fact that Love was at the heart of Jesus teaching – even love for those we don’t like. But that doesn’t mean that love is easy… it might in the end get you crucified.
But the truth is we are hard-wired for love. We are not made for estrangement, enmity, separation or division. We are made for connection, relationship, for love. When people who have been estranged somehow find reconciliation, tears often well up in our eyes. Why? Because we are made for connection. We are hard-wired for love. Separation, division, enmity is painful… why? Because it moves us against the grain of how we have been made.
We were made for unity and community… but that doesn’t mean the journey to get there is easy.
In Romans 8:29, the Apostle Paul speaks of Jesus as “the first among many brothers and sisters.” Perhaps that means that in Jesus we see what humanity is capable of becoming. In him we see a fuller humanity. A humanity no longer trapped in fear and separateness, but awakened to love and connection. Jesus reveals to us the true goal of our evolution.
And perhaps that is what Pentecost is really about. The disciples begin locked away in fear. Concerned for themselves. Protecting themselves. But then the Spirit comes like fire. A fire that changes them. They move outward. They become courageous. They begin speaking across barriers.
A new kind of community begins to emerge. Not a community where differences disappear, but one where love becomes greater than difference.
And notice again where it all begins: in prayerful waiting. In stillness. In openness. In people gathering together, not with certainty and easy answers, but with longing hearts. Prayer had not removed all their fear, but it had opened them to transformation. It had prepared them to receive the Spirit of Love.
That could be called Pentecost consciousness. The opposite of what we might call Babel consciousness.
And if we are honest, much of our world still lives there. We see it in racism, in political hatred, in religious division, in the constant anger and suspicion of modern life. We see it in the darker side of nationalism. It is the consciousness of separateness. But the Spirit of Jesus, and the trajectory of evolution invites us into something deeper. Into the realization that we belong to one another. That beneath all our differences we share one humanity, one earth, one sacred source of life. As Paul says in Ephesians, One God and Father of us all, who is over all, in all and through all.
And so the Spirit of Love draws us into a larger awareness — the awareness of God’s love flowing through all things. That does not mean losing our individuality. Pentecost is not about everybody becoming the same. The miracle of Pentecost is that every language remains distinct, and yet understanding becomes possible.
Love holds diversity together. Like the many colours in a stained-glass window illuminated by one light. And perhaps this is the direction humanity is slowly growing toward. Not perfectly. Not quickly. Often with terrible setbacks. But the deeper movement of life seems always to pull us toward ever wider circles of connection. Toward deeper communion. Toward love.
The fire of Pentecost is still burning in the world. It burns wherever the language of love is spoken, where people are moved by the Spirit or breathe that was in Jesus. And it all begins in Prayer.
For prayer may not always change the world around us immediately. But slowly, deeply, prayer changes us. And changed people can help change the world.
Amen.
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