TRUITY Spiritual Mentoring - Rev Deb Pentecost Reflection ~ New Wine

Jesus' disciples all got together on the day of Pentecost. Suddenly, a sound like a tornado filled the house. Divided tongues, bright and radiant like flames, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. Every one was filled with the Holy Spirit and each began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

At that time devout Jews from all over the world were living in Jerusalem. And when a crowd came to find out what all the noise was about, they were blown away, because they all heard their own languages being spoken.

Amazed and astonished, they said, "Wait a minute: aren't these Galileans? How on earth can we all hear our native tongue being spoken? Parthians, Persians, and Medes, folks from Crete, Judea and Turkey, Pontus and Asia, Mesopotamia and Pamphylia, Egypt and North Africa, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Greeks and Arabs — in our own languages we hear them speaking about God's powerful acts."

All of them were amazed and confused, and kept asking, "What on earth does this mean?"

But others sneered and said, "They are filled with new wine."
~ The Acts of the Apostles, chapter 2:1-13

If you had wished the disciples a "blessed Pentecost" that morning, they wouldn't have had any idea what you were talking about. For them, as members of the Jewish community in Jerusalem, it was Shavu'ot, a Springtime festival commemorating God's gift of the Torah to Moses.

Although less well-known to Christians, Shavu'ot is what we might think of as "the other half of Passover." Just as Passover represents the Israelites' freedom from physical slavery in Egypt, Shavu'ot celebrates their freedom from bondage to sin and strife through the gift of God's holy teachings.

The disciples would have had the day off. Work is forbidden on Shavu'ot: it is a time for reflection and rejoicing. It is a time to give thanks; for God's generosity and goodness have been clearly revealed: through the gift of the Torah, and in the delectable Springtime harvest.

After a night spent in study, and early prayers, the community would have begun their celebration. Then, as now, much of the festivities would center around meals: there would have been wheat, barley, plums, pears, pomegranates, olives, and honey. There would have been lots of yummy food, marvelous sweets and, to drink, a fermented barley and honey concoction, as well as sweet new wine.

And did I mention there would be "rejoicing"?

Then, as now, some folks would drink responsibly. Some would get a bit giddy and say silly things or profess their undying love to their friends. Some would have gotten very giddy and said ridiculous things and professed their undying love to strangers. The Shavu'ot celebration may not have gotten as wild as Mardi Gras in Rio, but most people would have let their hair down at least a bit. It was a time of celebration and joy: there would have been more playfulness — and less seriousness.

"And some sneered and said, 'They are filled with new wine.' "

In reading this passage again, I realize I've always misunderstood it. It isn't the disciples who are accused of being "filled with new wine," because no beverage — new, old, or in between — can cause someone to speak another language.

The accusation is being leveled at the hearers: they are "confused," all right — not by a powerful act of God, but by the sweet wine that they've been drinking. They're acting goofy. They must be so drunk that they've started hearing things. They're only imagining that words are being spoken in their own languages.

That's one explanation, but I don't know how plausible it is.

Of course it is possible. We've all misunderstood what has been said to us at one time or another. You know what that's like. We might be in a noisy place, the speaker is soft-spoken or hard to understand, we're getting over a cold and can't hear very well, or we're not paying attention... there are a bunch of reasons that we don't hear or we mishear what's being said. But I've never "misunderstood" another language as being spoken English.

Earlier this month, apparently in honor of Cinco de Mayo, folks living one street over from us had a party. It was on a Friday night which, at our house, is "dinner and a movie" night — a sacred spot in the week when nobody goes anywhere unless absolutely necessary, and we just sit together and relax. The film was over, the pizza had been eaten, and John and I had comfortably settled in with a glass of wine. Meanwhile, not far away, the music of Mexico was getting louder.

And, as I think I've confessed before: I am a fan of mariachi bands. Their music always makes me smile — and I especially love the "coyote yips" that are a part of the performance. So I poured myself a second glass of wine and went out into the backyard and sat for a while, listening to the band. (John does not share my enthusiasm, so he did not join me.)

I didn't understand a word they were singing. The wine did not seem to help or hinder that fact — because I don't speak Spanish and I never understand what mariachi songs are about. At no point did I think they were singing in English. Although my heart was warmed with delight, I did not "hear them speaking about God's powerful acts."

Wine and loud words in a foreign language don't equal Pentecost.

Whatever happened to those folks on that feast of Shavu'ot — the day of prayer and celebration — it was more than just the effects of wine and music. It was another gracious sign from heaven, affirming God's abundant generosity: reaching out to all the world. It was a new, powerful assurance that our loving Creator has not given up on us — and will never give up on us. It was part of the Holy One's continuing invitation to freedom: to love and life and joy in this world and the next.

Some misunderstood the experience of the hearers, who seemed to behave as if they were "drunk on new wine." But how else can we respond to the joy and delight of hearing the Good News of Jesus Christ?

You are forgiven, loved, and free. Isn't that just the greatest thing?

Let's celebrate!

Virtual hugs and real-time blessings,

Deborah +

This Week's Suggested Spiritual Exercise: Do something that makes you smile — or even laugh out loud! God delights in your joy and wants only the best for you.

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