“When the Wind Blows” - Fr. Pete's Sermon for May 24th, The Day of Pentecost

Acts 2:1-21

I love the trade winds. But it seems this year we have had a lot more windy weather than usual, mostly with rains. A few months ago we had some very strong winds blow through here on a Sunday morning—were you here? Remember how loud and scary it was? It was to me!

And I bet you’ve been in a house when a strong wind like that suddenly hits it. The doors rattle. The roof flutters scarily. Something bangs against the side of the house. You stop whatever you’re doing, look up and think: Okay… what was that? And if it keeps blowing, you really start paying attention. You might even go outside and look around, see what’s moving, what’s shifting, what might need tying down.

There’s something about wind that gets our attention. You can’t see it, but you can definitely feel it. And that’s where Pentecost begins.

“A sound like the rush of a violent wind.” Not a gentle breeze. Not a soft whisper. This is the kind of moment that makes people stop, look at each other, and say, “Wow! Did you hear that?”

And then of all things, tongues of fire appear atop everyone’s heads. People start speaking fluently in languages they’ve never learned.

Now, if all that happened here on a Sunday morning, I imagine we might react in one of two ways. Some of us would be thrilled: “Finally! Something exciting!” Others of us would be looking for the nearest exit.

And, to be fair, the people in Acts aren’t quite sure what to make of it either. Some are amazed. Others are confused. And a few say, “They’ve had too much wine.” Which is Peter’s cue to stand up and say, “Look, it’s only 9:00 in the morning. Get real.”

But then he says something much more important: “This is what was spoken through the prophet Joel…” And he re-frames the whole moment. This isn’t chaos. This is God. These are the winds of change.

This is what happens when the Spirit is poured out—not just on a few, not just on the powerful, but on all flesh. Sons and daughters. Young and old. Even those who were usually left out or overlooked.

The Spirit doesn’t arrive quietly or selectively. The Spirit comes like wind—uncontrollable, uncontainable, and impossible to ignore.

And suddenly, a bunch of frightened, uncertain disciples become something else. They become a living community. They become a voice. They become a movement.

Now, here’s where this connects to us. Because we don’t usually think of Pentecost as something that happens to us. We think of it as something that happened way back then. A dramatic, one-time event.

But the deeper truth is this: Pentecost is not just about what happened. It’s about what continues to happen. The Spirit is still being poured out. The wind is still blowing. The question is not whether the Spirit is present. The question is whether we are paying attention.

And that brings us, in a very real way, to what we’re doing today. Because again today, the Day of Pentecost, we will renew our baptismal vows.

Now, I don’t know about you, but sometimes that can feel a little… routine. We’ve done it before. On Easter Day in fact. And when Bishop Bob was here just a few weeks ago. We know the responses. We can almost say them from memory. “Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship…?” “I will, with God’s help.” And it’s easy to let those words pass by without really hearing them.

But think about what’s actually happening. We are not just repeating words. We are re-committing ourselves to a way of life shaped by the Spirit. A way of life that began at Pentecost. A way of life that says: we will keep showing up, we will keep learning, we will keep praying, we will keep loving, we will keep seeking Christ in all persons—not because it’s easy, but because the Spirit is still at work in us.

And maybe that’s where we need to connect this to the world we’re living in right now. Because it doesn’t take much to see that our world feels unsettled. There is conflict. There is fear. There is division. There is war.

And tomorrow, as a nation, we observe Memorial Day. A day when we remember those who have died in service to their country. A day of gratitude, but also a day of sober reflection.

Because every name we remember is also a reminder of the cost of conflict. The cost of a world that is still, in so many ways, broken.

And into that kind of world, Pentecost speaks. Not with denial. Not with easy answers. But with a different kind of power. Not the power of force, but the power of the Spirit.

A power that creates understanding across difference.
A power that forms community where there was once fear.
A power that calls ordinary people—you and me—to be witnesses to something better.

Which means that renewing our baptismal vows is not just a personal moment. It’s a public one. It’s a way of saying: in this divided world, we here at St. Tim’s will seek unity; in this world of fear, we will choose love; in this world of noise, we will listen for the Spirit.

And yes—sometimes that might feel as unpredictable as the wind. Because the Spirit doesn’t always move in ways we expect. She might nudge us toward someone we would rather avoid. She might call us to speak when we would rather stay quiet. She might open our hearts in ways that push us out of our comfort zones.

But that’s how the Spirit works. Not by keeping everything the same, but by changing us, so that we can be part of what God is doing in the world.

And that brings us back to where we started. That moment when the wind picks up. At first, it’s unsettling. You don’t know exactly what’s happening. But then you begin to realize: something is moving. Something is shifting. Something is alive. Pentecost is that moment—for the Church, and for us.

The Spirit is moving. The question is: will we open ourselves to it? Will we allow ourselves to be shaped by it? Will we say—not just with our words, but with our lives--“I will, with God’s help”?

Because the good news of Pentecost is this: we are not left alone. The Spirit is here—closer than we think—moving among us, breathing life into us, and calling us, again and again, to be the people God has created us to be.

Blow, Spirit, blow! Amen.