Pentecost Eve

On June 5, I returned home; I was listening to the reflections of D-day veterans as I drove.  I got to eat a lovely meal on my front porch.  I thought of those soldiers 70 years ago who would have been eating dinner and wondering if it would be their last supper.  When we said grace, I added a prayer of thanks for those soldiers who won that battle, that battle that some historians consider the most important of World War II, perhaps the 20th century, perhaps of the Western World.

Of course, at the time, most of the soldiers likely saw it as one more battle to slog through.  They didn't understand they stood at a turning point.  We often don't know we're at a hinge time until much, much later.

On the eve of Pentecost, those believers didn't know what was about to happen.  I imagine that they felt at loose ends.  Christ was with them, then crucified, then with them again, then gone.  What now?

Pentecost would answer that question.  But it's good to remember that not every day is Pentecost, not every season has that kind of transformation at its center.

Maybe we have been feeling that we're in a post-Ascension, pre-Pentecost time.  Maybe one mission has come to an end, and we're not sure what to do next.  Maybe we're still recovering from a time of grief and loss.  Maybe our favorite leader has left.  Maybe we're casting about for a project that could set our hearts on fire.

Pentecost promises us that we won't be adrift forever.  At some point we'll hear the rushing wind and feel the flame, and we'll be able to do more than we ever dreamed possible.