Lectionary Commentaries for May 19, 2024
Day of Pentecost

In the Revised Common Lectionary, the Gospel reading for Pentecost Sunday is always from the Gospel of John. The selected Gospel passages for Pentecost in Year B are the third, fourth, and fifth promises from Jesus of the Holy Spirit in the Farewell Discourse. The first and second promises of the Holy Spirit are in Year C (14:16–17; 14:26). Year A is the actual giving of the Holy Spirit in John (John 20:19–23). If deciding to preach on John this Pentecost Sunday, a first homiletical move would be to step back and get a balcony view of John’s pneumatology. 

Only in John is the Holy Spirit called the Paraclete—literally, the one called to be alongside you, just as Jesus has been (14:16). Any sermon on one of these Paraclete promises should take the other promises into consideration. As the Paraclete narratively “accompanies” the disciples throughout the Farewell Discourse, what the “alongsideness” of the Paraclete entails depends on what Jesus has just said. That is, the Holy Spirit is a first responder—coming alongside acute senses of need, particularly the anxiety, fear, and even grief of the disciples as they begin to realize the immediacy of Jesus’ departure. 

Furthermore, the disciples have already experienced the abandonment of one of their own, Judas, who has left them and Jesus and has gone into the night (13:30), and Jesus has also foretold Peter’s denial (13:36–38). Rather than a uniform translation of the Paraclete (typically, the “Advocate”), give the Holy Spirit the name embodied in the moment—comforter, aide, intercessor, companion, witness, guide, teacher, and so on. The specificity of the Spirit’s roles acknowledges the many levels of loss expressed in the Farewell Discourse and theologically underscores the assurance of the incarnation.

John 15:26–27 narrates the third promise of the Spirit and introduces a new function of the Paraclete—to testify. Jesus has just shared with his disciples that the world will hate them (15:18–25), a striking contrast to his commandment to love in the previous verses (15:12–17). In conjunction with the role of the Spirit as witness, the disciples themselves will be asked to do the same—“You also are to testify, because you have been with me from the beginning” (15:27)—to and in a world that will hate them and resist, even reject, their testimony. Without the love the disciples have for and show to each other, and without the Paraclete as witness alongside them, the disciples cannot be the witnesses Jesus will ask them to be in his absence. 

To be a witness is a primary display of discipleship in the Gospel of John. The disciples are called to carry on the role of witness already seen in John the Baptist (John 1:7, 19, 32, 34; 5:33), the Samaritan woman at the well (4:40), the scriptures (5:39), Jesus’ words and works (5:35; 8:14, 18; 10:25), and even God (5:36). Only because of and with the presence and promise of the Holy Spirit can the disciples, believers, testify to God’s glory revealed in Jesus. In the Gospel of John, the disciples are not sent into the world until they have been given the Holy Spirit by the resurrected Jesus (20:19–23). In the Paraclete as witness, “For God so loved the world” is at stake.

The fourth promise of the Paraclete given in 16:7b–11 is in response to Jesus’ troubling words spoken to the disciples just before: “I have said these things to you to keep you from falling away. They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, an hour is coming when those who kill you will think that by doing so they are offering worship to God” (16:1–2). 

As Jesus’ last night with his disciples comes closer to its end, what’s ahead for the disciples is stated plainly. There is every possibility that they will fall away (skandalizō), abandoning the relationship with Jesus just as Judas has. They will be thrown out of their synagogue for their belief in and witness to Jesus (see 9:22; 12:42). Needed at this moment is the Exposer. The Paraclete will lay bare the self-judgment that occurs when one chooses the darkness over the light (3:17–21). In this role, the Paraclete affirms and confirms the disciples’ decision to follow Jesus in contrast to those unwilling to believe God’s revelation in Jesus.

In 16:9, the Paraclete will expose the truth of sin, which in John is a theological and not moral category. The opposite of abiding in Jesus is sin. The Paraclete will bring to light God’s righteousness in that Jesus’ death is not the end but victory over death (16:33), fully realized in Jesus’ ascension. And the Paraclete will uncover the evil one as having no power over Jesus (14:30) because of God’s love for the world.

The fifth and final promise of the Paraclete (16:12–15) is a response to Jesus’ words “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now” (16:11). With so much more to come—in the resurrection appearances, the promise of the ascension (20:17), and a new summons to disciples (John 21)—the Spirit as Guide will make it possible for the disciples to hear Jesus’ future words as declarations and fulfillment of his being the Truth. And finally, the Paraclete, in glorifying Jesus, will confirm that in Jesus the very presence of God is visible and experienced (1:14; 13:31–33; 17:26).

The message that the preacher chooses to proclaim, given these multiple promises of the Paraclete, is a pastoral decision. What pastoral needs noted above do you see your congregation experiencing and into which the First Responder will bring comfort and peace? In answering this question, the distinctiveness of John’s pneumatology will be preached from its true heart—Jesus at his pastoral best.

Throughout Christian history, Pentecost has been described as the birth of the Christian church. In that sense, it is a looking forward, a hopeful inauguration of the task to which the resurrected Jesus called his followers before he ascended into heaven: They are to be his witnesses to the ends of the earth (1:8). Pentecost is the new community’s Opening Day.

In another sense, Pentecost is a looking back—a building on the past. The story starts with Jesus’ disciples gathered “together in one place” to celebrate the Jewish festival of Pentecost. The Jews among them likely believed they knew what was about to unfold; after all, this was a familiar communal celebration. Hellenistic Jews gave the name “Pentecost” (literally, “fiftieth”) to the Jewish “Festival of Weeks” (Shevuot), which occurred 50 days after Passover. Originally a harvest festival, Pentecost eventually celebrated the giving of the Mosaic Law.

The miraculous outpouring of the Holy Spirit also looks back to and fulfills Jesus’ prophecies (Luke 24:49; Acts 1:4–5). When a violent wind rushes in and fills the whole house, and tongues of fire appear among the followers of Jesus, some may have taken comfort from Hebrew Bible stories in which the sound of rushing wind and the tongues “as of fire” signal divine presence (Genesis 2:7; Exodus 3.2; 13:21; 19:18; Psalm 33.6; see also Isaiah 5:24)—God is with them—but many were likely overwhelmed or too caught up in the experience to interpret events this way until later.

How often do we experience God’s strange ways of working in the world as confusing, overwhelming, or even negative? Many times, we do not understand what’s really happening until later.

Margaret Atwood writes:

When you are in the middle of a story it isn’t a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass and splintered wood; like a house in a whirlwind, or else a boat crushed by the icebergs or swept over the rapids, and all aboard powerless to stop it.

It’s only afterwards that it becomes anything like a story at all. When you are telling it, to yourself or to someone else.¹

When we’re in the messy middle, we don’t know what is going on or how the story will end. We’re waiting for things to make sense. We’re asking, like the folks at Pentecost, “What does this mean?”

Some of the witnesses misinterpret what Pentecost means, assuming Jesus’ followers must be drunk (2:13). As we saw last week, misunderstanding is a common Lukan theme, although there is an intriguing distinction between this theme in Luke’s Gospel and in Acts: In the Gospel, those who misunderstand are typically those closest to Jesus (for example, 2:43, 50; 9:9, 10–17, 28–36, 37–42, 44–45, 49–50, 54–55, 57–62). In Acts, those who misunderstand are usually outsiders (for example, 3:17; 7:25; 8:18–24; 13:27; 14:11–13; 19:14–16; 22:9; see also 21:17–26).

As we also saw last week, Peter corrects the mistaken bystanders. Instructing them to “listen carefully” (2:14), he gives them a new interpretation of events, clarifying their divine origin (2:16, a slightly modified citation from the Greek translation of Joel 2.28–32): “These people are not filled up with wine, they’re filled up with God’s Spirit. This is the fulfillment of God’s promises. God’s people are dreaming dreams and seeing visions. They’re imagining a better world.”

How do understanding, interpretation, and imagining a better world relate to one another? One way is that conflicts in today’s polarized culture often stem from the common Christian claim that only insiders have true understanding and outsiders misinterpret (whether biblical texts or God’s work in the world).

It is important to remember that 1) those closest to Jesus also frequently misunderstand; 2) not all Christians agree (about the Bible, about the world, about how things are or should be); and 3) claims to absolute certainty regarding biblical interpretation or who is “in” and who is “out” can do further damage to those who have been hurt, both inside and outside the church. Pentecost reminds us that all three of these points have been true since the very beginning.

At the same time, Christians are not disempowered by the tricky truths just named. The indwelling of the Holy Spirit is a form of empowerment, a divine promise of God’s enduring presence. This story can thus prompt us to ask ourselves, with humility, questions such as these:

• What does it mean for us to live inspired by God’s Spirit?
• How does God’s power differ from human power?
• Are we using our God-given power to meet folks amid their overwhelm and confusion, or are we jumping to conclusions about others’ experiences, assuming we know the right answers?
• How does our community construct insider-outsider boundaries (consciously or subconsciously)?

How one interprets the many languages at Pentecost impacts many issues in the church today. For instance, some commentators write that Pentecost overturns the Tower of Babel story (Genesis 11:1–9), and that the Holy Spirit brings concord and unity (Acts 2:44–45). Other commentators suggest that Pentecost is not an overturning, but rather a new version of Babel, since the disciples speak local dialects (not one common language), and they again scatter throughout the earth. So, more questions:

• Should a truly “globalized” Christianity transcend or erase cultural differences altogether?
• Does Pentecost add welcome diversity to Christianity that churches today should celebrate and emulate?
• Should Christians seek to “speak the languages” of other communities without trying to change them?
• Which views does our community teach, and why?

Throughout the Gospel and Acts, Luke repeatedly uses seeing- and hearing-related words to commend listening well, as Peter does in 2:14. Therefore, we might also ask:

• How do others interpret events, the world, and/or biblical texts differently than we do?
• What might we learn from listening carefully to a wide range of diverse voices?
• In short, preachers can ask themselves and their congregations: How do we imagine—envision and enact—God’s better world?
• How might we, too, embody the risen Christ and, like the apostles, turn this world upside down (17:5–6)?

Notes

1. Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), 298.

This creation psalm celebrates the goodness, splendor, complexity, and interrelatedness of creation, which reflect God’s wisdom.¹

With the words “your works” and the subsequent naming of elements of nature, Psalm 104 celebrates the world as evidence of God’s wisdom in creating and sustaining the world, such that everything connects with everything else.

The phrase “Bless the Lord, O my soul” appears in Psalms 103 and 104, joining these two psalms as a larger celebration of God’s creation and as a guide for the people to pray in praise of God for creation. The author of Psalm 104 agrees with Psalm 103 that God rules over all that is, expanding on this by detailing God’s works of creation.

Verse 24 begins with a new vocative, “O Lord,” proclaiming God’s sovereignty and dominion over all the earth and the heavens, all of which are God’s creation. The psalm is somewhat reminiscent of Genesis 1 but is not intended to be read as a narrative.

Human beings are workers within God’s ordered world, built upon the interdependence of all living things. The whole world depends on God for sustenance, and none can survive without God. As the creator and source of life, God will always be sovereign, but God guides creation like a loving and compassionate parent. God has made creation and providence continuous with each other, just as those are continuous within God’s very self.

Verse 30 points to God’s ruach, or breath, which brings life to our physical and spiritual lives simultaneously. Just as God raised the dry bones (Ezekiel 37:1–14), God’s breath/Spirit is our complete source of life in every possible meaning. The psalmist is suggesting that the purpose of creation is life itself and that delight in life must always be rooted in deep connection to God.

Creation exists in polyrhythm, and just as God’s life-giving breath animates all of creation, humanity is to echo this life-giving breath with their praise of God.

Similarly, because the world was created with interdependence, everything we do impacts God’s world, and also God. Ecology and theology cannot be separated because every human action impacts God’s creation; therefore, they impact God as well.

Note that in verse 16, the psalmist refers to “trees of the Lord” but never to “people of the Lord,” which suggests that humans are not above creation but rather are one piece within its majestic whole. God tasked humans to serve creation and take care of it, not to rule over it and exploit it for human gain. Human interference in the delicate balance of interconnectedness threatens the system God has put in place.

This begs us to consider the root cause of our contemporary concern with environmental justice. Is it rooted in preserving our way of life for future generations (self-interest), or is it rooted in praise for God the creator (worship)?

Wickedness is a jarring discord between the world and what it was created to be. Wickedness seeks to disconnect and deal harm, whereas the world was created for life-giving interconnectedness. As J. Clinton McCann references, “We have seen the wicked, and it is us!”²

The mention of the sea monster Leviathan recalls the ancient association between the ocean and chaos and between sea monsters and evil. Even these, this psalmist says, are subject to God, for God has ordered the chaotic waters to become life-giving springs (verses 6–13) and has quieted the sea monsters (verses 25–26).

The psalmist wishes that God would rule over creation for eternity and that this would bring God joy. While verse 35a seems disconnected from the rest of Psalm 104, the psalmist so rejoices in creation that he wishes wickedness were not at work attempting to dismantle what God has built.

This also points to the fact that those who view themselves as part of creation cannot both praise God and tolerate wickedness within the world. Either one lives in praise of God as creator/life-giver/sustainer, or one undermines God’s sovereignty by seeking to harm what God has made.

Verse 35 also offers the first instance of “hallelujah” in the Psalter, which is one of the reasons this passage tends to be used on the Day of Pentecost in celebration of God’s spirit (breath, wisdom) over creation. Just as God is the source of life for all of creation—physically, cosmically, and spiritually—God has created and sustained the church, through which all humankind and creation are interconnected.

What amazes you about creation? For what do you find yourself repeatedly praising God? How does God reveal God’s self through creation? What responsibilities do humans have to and for creation, and how does your preaching form your congregation in this regard?³

Notes

1. Commentary originally published on this website on June 9, 2019.
2. J. Clinton McCann, “Psalms,” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol 4, ed. Leander E. Keck et al. (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), 1100.
3. Other resources consulted for this commentary:
   Walter Brueggemann, Israel’s Praise: Doxology against Idolatry and Ideology (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988).
   Jim Cotter, Psalms for a Pilgrim People (Harrisburg, PA: Morehouse, 1998).
   Nancy deClaissé-Walford, Introduction to the Psalms: A Song from Ancient Israel (St. Louis, Chalice, 2004).
   James L. Mays, Preaching and Teaching the Psalms (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2006).
   James L. Mays, Psalms, Interpretation (Louisville: John Knox, 1994).
   Stephen Breck Reid, Listening In: A Multicultural Reading of the Psalms (Nashville: Abingdon, 1997).

In exploring our lectionary text, it is helpful to review briefly the argument Paul has made leading up to it.¹

Having described the conflict we experience as those enslaved to sin and death (Romans 7:14–25), Paul presents our only hope of deliverance. God sent his Son “in the likeness of sinful flesh” to deal with sin (8:3) and has given us his Spirit to dwell within us, so that we are now led by the Spirit of God (8:9–14).

The Spirit bears witness that we have been adopted as God’s children and have become joint heirs with Christ (8:15–17). Because we are joint heirs with Christ, we can expect to share in both his sufferings and his glory (8:17).

Paul is confident that “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us” (8:18), yet he does not gloss over the present reality of suffering. The suffering to which Paul refers is not limited to persecution for the sake of following Christ. Instead, Paul is speaking in general terms of the suffering we all experience in “this present time,” since we are part of a world in bondage to sin, death, and decay.

Paul speaks of the whole creation experiencing this bondage and “waiting with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God” (8:19). He says further that “the whole creation has been groaning together (sustenazei) in labor pains until now, and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan (stenazomen) inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies” (8:22–23).

The “groaning” we experience together with creation is not futile or despairing but looks with hope toward the new world being birthed.

Both birthing and adoption imagery are used to describe this reality of living in the now and not yet of salvation. While the creation experiences labor pains, we who have been adopted as God’s children and have received the first fruits of the Spirit (8:15–16) still await the completion of our adoption, “the redemption of our bodies” (8:23).

This redemption will mean life and freedom for all creation. Life in the meantime is characterized by hope and patience—a watchful, expectant waiting that does not give in to despair, even when little evidence of redemption is in sight (8:24–25).

We are not left alone in our waiting and struggle, for “the Spirit helps us in our weakness” (8:26). Even though we don’t know how or what to pray, the Spirit intercedes for us with “inarticulate groans (stenagmois)” (8:26). The New Revised Standard Version translation, “with sighs too deep for words,” obscures the parallel between our “groaning” and that of the Spirit.² Just as we groan together with the whole creation (8:22–23), the Spirit groans together with and for us, interceding for us according to the will of God (8:27).

Our grasp of God’s will and the future God has in store for creation is limited at best. How can we pray for what we have not seen and have difficulty imagining? The Spirit gives voice to what we cannot articulate but hope and long for in our inmost selves.

Many aspects of this text open up potential paths for preaching. On Pentecost Sunday, the preacher may want to emphasize the work of the Spirit.

Paul is clear that the gift of the Spirit does not mean we have already “arrived” spiritually. Rather, the Spirit is the first fruit of our adoption as God’s children, an adoption that still awaits completion. Life in the meantime is characterized by suffering and struggle. Paul emphasizes the Spirit’s solidarity with us in our weakness and our solidarity with the whole creation in its suffering.

For any who might be tempted to think that life in the Spirit means escape from the world, Paul’s understanding of the Spirit’s work is a healthy corrective.

Too often in our culture we hear preaching suggesting that followers of Jesus can bypass suffering. We hear this, for instance, from “prosperity gospel” preachers who suggest that the right kind of faith and prayer will bring health and prosperity. Yet Paul asserts that the life of faith is not validated by such external signs. Rather, “we hope for what we do not see” (8:25).

Paul also insists that there is no exemption from suffering for believers. Being children of God indwelled by the Spirit does not remove us from the suffering of creation but draws us ever more deeply into solidarity with our suffering world.

As joint heirs with Christ, we can expect to share in his sufferings (8:17) on behalf of a world in bondage. As the Spirit of Christ dwells within us, at odds with the powers of sin and death, we experience conflict and suffering, yet we are not driven to despair. The Spirit groans with us and intercedes for us, giving us hope in the promise of redemption.

Paul’s emphasis on solidarity with creation also offers a strong counterpoint to a type of apocalyptic theology popular in our culture—theology that describes the end as a time when believers will be snatched away to heaven while unbelievers and the rest of creation are left behind to suffer bloodshed and destruction.

In stark contrast to this “left behind” theology, Paul testifies to God’s will of redeeming the whole creation together with the children of God.

Certainly Paul speaks elsewhere of future judgment, but it is judgment for all, including the children of God (cf. 1 Corinthians 3:10–15; 2 Corinthians 5:10). Our only hope is in God’s deliverance through Christ’s death and resurrection, for “there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). Our redemption means hope for the whole creation, which “waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God” (8:19).

As children of God and joint heirs with Christ indwelled by his Spirit, we are one with creation in suffering, longing, and hope.

Notes

1. Commentary was originally published on this website on May 31, 2009.
2. The New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition, published in 2021, has in fact changed Romans 8:26 to read, “… but that very Spirit intercedes with groanings too deep for words.”