The Miracle of the Spirit (Pentecost Sunday)

Acts 2.1-41

I’m excited, and a little nervous, to be taking a break from Exodus this week to talk about what today is, and what it represents. Today is Pentecost Sunday. For most people in France, the meaning of this day is vague at best. For most Christians in France…it might also be vague at best.

On Pentecost Sunday, we remember the day on which God sent the Holy Spirit to his people; we find this episode of the story in Acts chapter 2. But how you read this story today might vary greatly depending on how you grew up, what kind of church culture you came out of.

Let me give you a little background on myself before I go on, because I want to explain why I’m going to go about this the way I am.

I grew up in Pentecostal churches in the United States. These are churches that were born out of a movement in the early twentieth century, that placed a big emphasis on what we call the “sign gifts,” miraculous signs like speaking in tongues, prophecy, healing, and so on. And that is still the norm in most Pentecostal churches today; you’ll hear a lot about the Holy Spirit, and a lot of time will be dedicated to pursuing these miraculous gifts. (And as we’ll see in a minute, they have a reason for thinking this way.)

That’s what I grew up in. Often, the Sunday services (especially the evening services) could last for hours. There were people yelling, people falling down, people shaking. There was one guy who used to run literal laps around the sanctuary, running like his pants were on fire. I’ve been to healing services, exorcism services, one service where a pastor tried to punch cancer out of a man’s stomach in the name of Jesus…

I promise you, I’ve seen it all.

Now clearly, that’s not where I am today. But my goal today is not to defend one position or another. I’m going to have to talk about what I believe, but I’m going to do my best to show you, in the Bible, why I believe what I do.

This sermon was long in coming, because for years now we’ve had a good mix of people in Connexion. Some of you come from Pentecostal or charismatic backgrounds (I’m using those words interchangeably, by the way); some of you come from much more reserved, cessationist backgrounds; and some of you didn’t grow up in church so you come from neither one. So one of the questions we as the elders have had to ask ourselves is, how do we manage a church in which opinions or convictions might vary wildly on this subject? What common ground can we find? What on the subject of the Spirit’s activity in the world can we all affirm together?

That’s what I’d like to try to do this morning. It’s a tall order, because emotions get high when you talk about this stuff. But this is a subject we see all over the book of Acts, so we need to reckon with it. And, we’ll all be happy to know, there is quite a lot we can all agree on—and it’s really good news.

So let’s start by just looking at what happened on that day.

What Happened (Acts 2.1-13)

To give us some context: at this point in the story, Jesus has died and was raised, he appeared to his disciples and some four hundred other people, and in the previous chapter, the disciples (now called apostles, because Jesus was sending them out to preach the gospel—the word “apostle” means “sent”) saw Jesus ascend into heaven in his body. And now, they’re doing what he said: they’re waiting. We see in Acts 1.15 that about a hundred and twenty of them were gathered in the same place, praying and marveling at what had happened, and waiting for God to send the promised Holy Spirit.

Then they come to the day of Pentecost, which was the second of the annual harvest festivals for the Jews, that came fifty days after Passover (it was called the Feast of Weeks in the Old Testament). So this is about a month and a half after Jesus’s death and resurrection, and about a week after he ascended into heaven.

Let’s read from the beginning of Acts 2.

When the day of Pentecost arrived, they were all together in one place. 2 And suddenly there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3 And divided tongues as of fire appeared to them and rested on each one of them. 4 And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance.

Okay, so the first thing we need to notice here is that the Holy Spirit’s coming is very different from Jesus’s coming. The Bible teaches that there is one God, who has manifested himself for all eternity in three persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. One God, three persons. If that makes no sense to you, welcome to the club. No one understands it.

The Son was Jesus Christ: born of a human woman, but conceived by the Holy Spirit. So Jesus is fully God, but also fully man. He is a physical human being who is also the Son of God.

That’s not the case for the Spirit. The Holy Spirit is what his name implies: he’s a Spirit. He’s not a human being, he’s not physical. So if he’s a Spirit, and not a physical being, how would the apostles know he had come? If it was a purely internal, subjective experience—like a feeling they got—how could they prove that this had actually happened? And how would they know the same thing had happened in others?

The question is actually really important, because with Jesus gone, God had to provide continuity. He had to show the people watching the apostles that their ministry isn’t a new thing, but the continuation of what Jesus started.

So there needed to be something visible, to prove to the people around that this was really happening, that it wasn’t all in their heads.

And we get that here. First, there’s the sound of a wind in the room (already freaky); then, something like tongues of fire that comes and floats over their heads (even weirder). But those things, only those disciples who were present could see and hear, because they were inside a closed room.

The next thing is what seals the deal: they’re filled with the Holy Spirit. We see the Spirit doing a lot in the Old Testament too, giving people power for specific tasks. The language the Bible uses to talk about what happened back then is, “The Spirit of God rushed upon Saul, or rushed upon Samson, or rushed upon Shamgar (my personal favorite of the Judges).” But it’s always punctual; it’s always momentary. We see the Spirit rushing upon Saul at the beginning of his reign, and then we see the Spirit leaving Saul later on.

That’s not what it says here. It says that the Holy Spirit didn’t just come upon them; he filled them.

And that way we know this happened—the outside, objective proof that this was real—is that they began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance.

And after, it gets even better. V. 5:

5 Now there were dwelling in Jerusalem Jews, devout men from every nation under heaven. 6 And at this sound the multitude came together, and they were bewildered, because each one was hearing them speak in his own language. 7 And they were amazed and astonished, saying, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? 8 And how is it that we hear, each of us in his own native language? 9 Parthians and Medes and Elamites and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, 11 both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabians—we hear them telling in our own tongues the mighty works of God.” 12 And all were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” 13 But others mocking said, “They are filled with new wine.”

The details we see here are numerous, very specific, and very important.

These “other tongues” the apostles are speaking are actual, recognizable languages. That’s what the crowds say in v. 7-8: these guys are all from Galilee, and yet we can hear them all speaking in our native language. And these people listening came from all over the place. They were Jews from many different countries. And yet, they all hear the apostles speaking in their native languages.

And they’re saying very specific things; we see in v. 11, the apostles are telling in our own tongues the mighty works of God.

That’s what happened on this day of Pentecost. It wasn’t all that happened (we’ll talk about the rest in a little while), and it wasn’t the only incredible thing we see the Holy Spirit do. In the book of Acts, we see the apostles, through the Holy Spirit, healing people, prophesying, casting out demons, resurrecting people from the dead; and we see Christians all over the place speaking in other tongues just like the apostles did, which was the sign that the Holy Spirit wasn’t reserved for an elite few, but that all Christians had received the same gift from God the apostles had.

But if that’s what happened on the day of Pentecost, what didn’t happen?

What Didn’t Happen

I’m just going to tell you what I see when I read the Bible. And I’ll be honest: since I’m the elder who planted the church, and I was the only elder when these questions first started being asked, my view on the subject informed a lot of how we do things here. That might change as time goes on, as different elders come on board, and that’s fine. But this is how I approach it.

First of all, no matter where we land, we want to give a lot of grace to people who disagree with us on these subjects, because they’re not always easy. The Bible isn’t very specific about what some of these things looked like, so there’s definitely some room for interpretation. For that reason, I want to be careful when someone comes to me claiming they had an experience with the Holy Spirit that differs from what I see when I read the Bible. I don’t want to jump right away to saying, “No, that definitely wasn’t the Holy Spirit.” I want to listen, and consider that there may be some things about this I don’t understand.

That being said, there are a number of things that often happen in churches, particularly charismatic or Pentecostal churches, that I don’t believe we see in the book of Acts.

With the first, I know I’m going to make some people mad, but it’s what, in modern churches, people usually called speaking in tongues. But there’s another word for it, which is glossolalia. It’s what happens when someone repeats or intones random syllables or sounds that don’t seem to fit into any known language.

Glossolalia a word that exists outside of church circles, because it’s a phenomenon that exists outside the church. It happens in just about every part of the world, in many different religions, and in pagan practices as well.

Now I’m not suggesting this phenomenon is always bad, just that it’s not unique to Christianity, and that it’s not what we see in the book of Acts or elsewhere in the Bible. We already saw what was unique about that: they spoke in languages spoken by people who were listening. They were real languages, understandable by those who were present.

The other thing we often see in churches today, that we don’t see in the book of Acts or elsewhere in the Bible (at least not in a positive way), is whatever falls under the category of “loss of control.” Falling down; trembling uncontrollably. Nowhere in the Bible, nowhere in Acts, do we see God approving a loss of control.

Those are just a couple of examples. A lot of what we see happening in some churches today is not what was happening in the book of Acts or afterwards. And I don’t believe what we see in Acts was meant to continue in quite the same way after that time period.

That’s not to say I think it never happens—I’m not a cessationist. But the fact that I believe it’s possible doesn’t mean I think that’s how it should be everywhere, at all times. The time of the apostles was a completely unique period in history, in which the claims of the apostles were validated by the signs and wonders they performed.

There’s a lot more I could say about this, but that’s why, at Eglise Connexion, we tend to be more reserved than demonstrative. That’s why we don’t speak in tongues (that is, we don’t hear glossolalia) in the service; that’s why we want to maintain a certain order during the service. We do still pray for people: we pray that God would heal people, and we believe that God does heal. But we want to maintain a certain order; we want to adhere to what Paul says in 1 Corinthians 12-14, which is one long warning against disorder in the church’s gatherings.

I do think we could stand to loosen up a bit, to be a little more vocal and celebratory when we worship God—like I said, I grew up in a very different context, and seeing extremely reserved worship is weird for me: these are massive, joyful truths we’re singing about. So I think we could show that more than we do.

But we want to worship in a way that is ordered, that seeks to serve everyone here, that’s not just trying to make me feel good.

What It Means (Acts 2.22-41)

Now, if you disagree with me on the things I just said, that’s fine. This is a secondary issue, and not even all of the elders have agreed on this subject in the past. We are all brothers and sisters in Christ, and as long as we all accept to do things in a certain way when we meet, we can disagree on these things, and it makes very little difference.

And it’s not a problem because of what this event means—what unites us. It’s really easy to get distracted by what we see in Acts 2. It was spectacular, but it had a very specific goal.

And that’s one thing we see over and over again in the Bible. Every time God does something, whether it’s minor or spectacular, he always has a reason. Whenever Jesus healed someone, he had a reason. And it wasn’t only that he had compassion on those who were sick, although his compassion was real. It was in order to show the people who he was—that he was no ordinary man. But at the same time, it was also to show the people that seeing isn’t necessarily believing.

In order to believe, something else needed to happen.

Go back to Acts 2. After the text we read earlier, when the apostles were speaking in tongues and the people outside were hearing their own languages spoken, some people are amazed, while others say the apostles are drunk.

So Peter gets up and speaks to the whole crowd. And he delivers an incredible, impromptu sermon that is not at all what we’d call “seeker sensitive.” He says in v. 22:

22 “Men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man attested to you by God with mighty works and wonders and signs that God did through him in your midst, as you yourselves know— 23 this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men. 24 God raised him up, loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it.

In other words, he tells them that they, Jewish men and women, people who up to that point thought they were saved because they were Jewish, have sinned against God, and need his forgiveness. In v. 36 he pronounces the final, climactic sentence of his sermon:

36 Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.”

The Lord and Christ, whom you crucified. What incredible courage: he might have been stoned to death right then.

But how did the crowd respond?

37 Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, “Brothers, what shall we do?” 38 And Peter said to them, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. 39 For the promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself.” 40 And with many other words he bore witness and continued to exhort them, saying, “Save yourselves from this crooked generation.” 41 So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls.

These miraculous signs the apostles were able to do were spectacular. Absolutely. Part of the reason why they were able to do these things was to show that Jesus was continuing his ministry through them.

But that’s only part of it. We talked about this in Exodus: very often, we see one thing happen in the Bible, for a specific reason at a specific time, but that actually points to something even bigger, something even better, still to come. The same thing is happening here. The miraculous signs we see in the apostles, particularly the speaking in tongues we see in Acts 2, is pointing to something far better still to come.

And that is the reversal of a curse.

If you’ve read the book of Genesis, you’ll remember a particular scene early on in the book, in chapter 11: the tower of Babel. At that time, everyone on earth spoke the same language—which makes sense, because they were all descended from the same family. So they settle in a certain place and they founded a city. And they’re pretty pleased with themselves. So they decide, in v. 4:

“Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.”

So they start, and they get really high up. God sees what they’re doing, and he is not happy. He says in v. 6:

“Behold, they are one people, and they have all one language, and this is only the beginning of what they will do. And nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. 7 Come, let us go down and there confuse their language, so that they may not understand one another’s speech.”

Now it might seem like God sees the people as a threat, like a petty tyrant: if they keep going, they’ll be able to do anything they want, and we can’t let that happen.

But these people aren’t a threat to God. They’re a threat to themselves. They’re starting to think they don’t need God, because they’re able to do impressive things on their own. They’re lost in their pride, and in their arrogance they imagine they can live without God.

In their arrogance, they desire to take the place of the God for whom nothing is impossible. It is idolatry in its simplest form.

So God, as a consequence, confuses their language. Suddenly, they can’t understand each other. They’re all speaking different languages, all at once. And without the ability to communicate…there’s nothing they can do together.

They quit their project, and they disperse. And from then on, we have multiple groups of people, speaking multiple languages in multiple locations.

That’s the situation for millennia. People live dispersed from one another, separated by language and culture and, quite often, animosity.

That’s the situation, until the day of Pentecost.

On this day, what do we see? We see many different people, from many different cultures, with many different languages, suddenly all able to hear the same revolutionary message, this incredible good news, spoken in their own language.

There are a couple of really important things we need to see here. These people who were in the crowd on the day of Pentecost likely didn’t need to hear these things spoken in their own language. They were from several different places, but they were all Jews, Paul says in v. 5 of Acts 2—so they all would have had at least a passing knowledge of Hebrew (and probably Greek as well). And when Peter gets up and preaches in v. 14, he’s not speaking a dozen languages at once. He’s speaking one language, and it seems like everyone in the crowd understands his sermon.

So I don’t think the apostles spoke in tongues so that the people would understand. I think they did it so that the people might be moved. Everyone who’s lived in a different country knows that it’s one thing to hear or read the Bible in the new language you’ve learned, and it’s quite another to hear it in your native language. Even if we’re perfectly bilingual, our native tongue does something to us that other languages just can’t. It hits our minds and our hearts in a particular way.

This speaking in tongues isn’t strictly necessary, but it is profoundly symbolic and meaningful. It was the signal for them that the Spirit wasn’t only coming to an elite in Jerusalem, but for everyone. And this “live translation” of the wonders of God in all these other languages was a foretaste of what was coming: the gospel, going out in power, not only to the Jews in all these various regions, but to the Gentiles there as well: many peoples, united by one single Spirit.

The second important thing to note is that God doesn’t totally reverse the curse of Babel; he doesn’t make all the people suddenly speak one language. Because, once again, the speaking in tongues isn’t an end in itself. It’s a gift that’s pointing to something greater.

And that greater thing is the Holy Spirit, taking people from various backgrounds and languages and cultures, and uniting them through the miracle he performs in their hearts. Peter gets up and preaches this really accusatory sermon, in which he says to them all, “This Son of God, whom God sent with mighty works and signs and wonders that you all saw with your own eyes—you crucified him. You killed him.”

And instead of getting defensive, what do we see in v. 37?

Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, “Brothers, what shall we do?”

Right there—that’s the real miracle. It’s not the speaking in tongues. It’s not prophecy. It’s not healing. It’s hearing this crazy message of what Jesus Christ did, that he lived and died and was raised to save us…and being cut to the heart. That is miraculous, because it makes no sense. Paul says that “the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing” (1 Corinthians 1.18). We can only see the gospel as not folly when the Holy Spirit gives us new hearts, and new minds, and new ears to hear and believe in him, so that we might not perish but have eternal life.

That is what it means to be “baptized in the Holy Spirit” (cf. Ephesians 4.1-6); THAT’S the point. That’s why the apostles spoke in tongues, that’s why they were able to heal, that’s why these miraculous things were happening at this time. Every miracle occurring at this time is pointing to the greater miracle: the work of the Holy Spirit to regenerate and renew people from every tribe, tongue and nation and unite them into one body, one family, under one Father—all of this leading toward the day in which God presents the church to his Son as a bride, without spot or wrinkle or blemish, to enjoy their unity with him forever.

Three thousand people met Christ that day, and that was just the beginning.

How We Move Forward

To close, let’s ask one more question—where do we go from here? How do we respond to what we see in this passage?

The answer is simple. Either we lean in to the signs, or we lean in to the message.

It’s easy to read Acts 2, and the following chapters, and wonder why we don’t still see this sort of thing today, or at least not as often. It’s easy to think that if these signs and miracles were happening all over the place today, in such a visible way, the preaching of the gospel would be much more effective.

But that’s simply not true. Even in the book of Acts, and even in Jesus’s ministry, seeing a miracle doesn’t convince everyone—because again, that’s not the point. These miracles were pointing toward the greater miracle, and that greater miracle has spent the last two thousand years taking shape.

What’s different about our situation today, and that of the apostles? A lot of things, of course, but one main thing: we have the Bible. The whole Bible: Old and New Testaments. We have the letters the apostles wrote. We have the whole of Scripture, which the Holy Spirit inspired so that we might know everything we need to know, and see everything we need to see, in order to believe.

Paul says in 2 Timothy 3.16-17:

16 All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness—

To which we might say, “Sure, Scripture is profitable, but it would help an awful lot if we had the miracles too.”

Sorry, no. Paul says that God gave us Scripture for teaching, reproof, correction, training in righteousness—why?

17 ...that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.

In other words: we don’t need anything else.

So do miracles still happen? Absolutely, because God is still a compassionate God. Does speaking in tongues still happen? I believe it does—not necessarily the way a lot of Christians would say it does, but I do believe these things still happen, in the right context, and if God judges them necessary.

But we don’t see these things as often here because we don’t need them here. We have something the early church didn’t have, and that is the whole of Scripture, breathed out by the Spirit, and which the Spirit uses to give us everything we need, to equip us for every good work.

So rather than lean in to the miracles, we want to lean in to the message. The message of the gospel, not miracles, is what saves us. It’s what makes us complete. It’s what equips us.

The message of the gospel is the true miracle. Even if we never see a single outward miracle in our whole life, we already have the miracle we need.