Pentecost Stories, Loud and Quiet
St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD
May 24, 2026
Year A: The Day of Pentecost
Acts 2:1-21
Psalm 104:25-35, 37
1 Corinthians 12:3b-13
John 20:19-23
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Over the last eight weeks – for the past 50 days – we have shouted out so many alleluias.
And today we’re still ringing out our alleluias because today we celebrate the great Feast of Pentecost:
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
The Lord is risen. The Lord has ascended. And just as he promised, the Lord has not left us comfortless, has not left us orphaned.
Today, on the great Feast of Pentecost, we remember and celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit.
The Holy Spirit - the Spirit of God at work in the world – the Spirit of God at work in the Church, right here and now, right this very minute.
You may have noticed that today we heard two different Pentecost stories.
The first, from the Acts of the Apostles, is very public, dramatic, and loud.
We pick up with the disciples in yet another unsettling in-between time. Jesus has ascended into heaven. He promised that they would receive the Holy Spirit. But nothing has happened yet. So, the disciples are in Jerusalem, they’re sticking together and they’re praying, and they’re waiting.
And on the fiftieth day, suddenly the Holy Spirit blows through the house, propelling the no-longer-frightened disciples out into the streets, out into a diverse world of many peoples and languages, proclaiming to absolutely everybody the best news of all time:
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
You know, that all happened a long time ago, but, if we pay attention, loud Pentecost stories happen all the time.
For example, just a few weeks ago, some of us gathered at our cathedral for the confirmation service - that was a loud Pentecost story.
It was a joy to be there with our seven youth confirmands, the last class taught by our extraordinary teachers Paul Corbin and Greg VanGeison, and our two adult confirmands, and their families.
Now, I know that we all like when Confirmation happens here at our own church, when the bishop makes her visitation. And I get that, and I agree, it is really nice – it’s like a family celebration.
But, on the other hand, it’s also very meaningful to gather with our bishop at our cathedral with Episcopalians from many different churches.
And at this year’s service, there was a very diverse group of people, maybe not so diverse as the crowd in Jerusalem on the first Pentecost, but it was still beautiful to see.
Since there were many Spanish-speakers present, one of the Bible lessons was read in Spanish, and the preacher alternated between English and Spanish – which, I have to say, was pretty impressive.
As I sat in the pew listening to all of this and looking around at all of these people from different corners of our diocese, I thought that this was a bit like that first loud Pentecost story – all of us able to hear the Good News, the best news of all time:
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
And then in today’s lesson from the Gospel of John, we heard a second Pentecost story – a quiet Pentecost story.
In this story, it’s the evening of the first Easter.
The disciples are together, traumatized, frightened, confused by all that has happened in Jerusalem over the last few days – Jesus’ death on the cross, and the reports of an empty tomb.
Then, suddenly, the Risen Christ appears.
The Risen Christ is still himself – he still bears his crucifixion wounds – but he is transformed – locked doors are no obstacle for him.
Knowing that the disciples are frightened, the Risen Christ’s first words are, “Peace be with you.”
And then, the Pentecost story: the Risen Christ breathes on them and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”
This is a different kind of Pentecost story, isn’t it?
It’s much quieter, much more intimate, and personal.
This all happened a long ago, but, if we pay attention, quiet Pentecost stories happen all the time.
So, back to the Confirmation service.
The confirmands and their teachers, clergy, and families were called forward by church – so when it was our turn, all of us from St. Thomas’ were together, standing in front of Bishop Carrie who stood before the altar.
One by one, our confirmands each knelt before the bishop.
Some were nervous, some were very serious, and some seemed to play it cool.
And then, one by one, she asked each confirmand to state their name.
“Chidera. Annie. Bucky. Charlie. McLane. Elizabeth. Alice. Jackson. Annette.”
And then she asked each confirmand if they wish to be confirmed.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,…”
And then, one by one, the bishop placed her hands on each of their heads and prayed, “Strengthen, O Lord, your servant, with your Holy Spirit…”
Because I wanted to take pictures, I was standing in a spot off to the side that gave me a clear view as each of the confirmations took place – and, although this was all happening in public with lots of people watching – this was a quiet Pentecost story, as quiet as a person saying their name, as quiet as a person saying “yes” to God, as quiet as the bishop inviting the Holy Spirit to strengthen each one of them, each one of us.
Pentecost stories, loud and quiet.
Today, on the fiftieth and final day of the Easter Season, on the great Feast of Pentecost, we remember and celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit.
The Holy Spirit - the Spirit of God at work in the world – the Spirit of God at work in the Church, right here and now, right this very minute.
We heard two old Pentecost stories – loud and quiet.
If we pay attention, we’ll find that Pentecost stories happen all the time.
Sometimes these Pentecost stories are kind of loud, like a joyful bilingual Confirmation service.
But more often, these Pentecost stories are kind of quiet, whispering our name, whispering “yes.”
These Pentecost stories are a quiet as a held hand, a caring call.
As quiet as creating a quilt to share with someone sick and frightened.
As quiet as sitting beside a child trying to make sense of math.
As quiet as Michelle Schmidt teaching Sunday School week after week, unseen by almost everybody.
Yes, often, these Pentecost stories are quiet, like two good men, Paul and Greg, offering decades of service to our young people and asking nothing in return – faithfully and generously sharing the best news of all time:
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Amen.
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