The feast of Shavuot in Jerusalem was a big event. Perhaps not quite as big as Passover had been fifty days earlier, nor as big as Sukkot would be in a few months time. But Shavuot was one of the big three. It was one of the occasions when Israelites (who were able) were required to travel to the Temple in Jerusalem. Perhaps Jesus had made the trip as a young man, just as he and the family do in Luke 2 for the feast of Passover. Like muslims today and their pilgrimage to Mecca (the hajj), not everyone could go every year, but many Jews would go as often as they could.
There were two korban or offerings that were made at the Temple. The first was bread. The priest would ‘wave’ bread before the altar. The second offering was meat. On this occasion, it was male meat. Two young bulls, a ram, and seven male lambs were slaughtered and then burned on the altar as an offering. The people would also bring their own offerings to the Temple – the first fruits from the harvest, which they would place in a basket. The Mishnah of Bikkurim, a text from the second century, describes what would happen once the pilgrims got near the city, and presumably camped some distance away. At sunrise, an official would summon them and get them walking to Jerusalem. An ox walked before them with horns covered in gold and an olive crown on its head. They would make their way to the Temple mount, then with singing and reading from scripture, lay their basket near the altar.
In the story told by Luke in the book of Acts, did the Apostles who join the parade and the ritual that morning? It’s possible. But it does seem highly likely that all the other people in the crowd had been up to the temple that morning. They’d been woken at the crack of dawn, and they’d had a big walk and some religion. Up on the temple mount, animal carcasses were being burnt to a crisp, and the smell filled the air. But it was now nine in the morning, and something weird was happening. As crowds do, they gathered around a kerfuffle, only to hear Jesus’ Apostles speaking to them in their own native languages from all around the Mediterranean. Some people say that the crowd, or the Apostles (or both) have had a few sneaky drinks of sweet wine.
Then, in one of the more hilarious statements in Christian scripture, Peter assures the naysayers that nobody could possibly be drunk because it is only 9.00am. I think this is a great lesson in public speaking. When you are talking to a group of strangers, always break the ice and win them over with a joke. Peter and his listeners knew full well that you could be three sheets to the wind by 9.00am, and anyone who’s been to the Anzac Dawn Service can confirm it!
In the story, Peter goes on to describe what is really happening. This is what the prophet Joel predicted. Now, the Book of Joel is an obscure text of uncertain origin. It begins by talking about a locust plague which ravages the countryside, and then talks about how God takes the barren land and makes it new. It’s about the promise of a new Jerusalem, and a new Kingdom – all of which will be accomplished on ‘The Day of the Lord’. Peter explains how the Spirit is being poured out on everyone.
Peter, in the next part of the story from what we read today, goes on to explain that Jesus was crucified and killed, but that God raised him from death. The listeners are ‘cut to the heart’ and ask what they should do. Peter has a straightforward answer – repent, believe and be baptised. Luke tells us that three thousand people were added to the church that day. They spent time on hearing the teaching of the Apostles, the Eucharist and the prayers.
But that’s not all they did. All these new believers shared all their goods in common. They sold what they had, and distributed the money they raised to people in need.
Now, we know that the book of Acts, like the gospels, is literature. It is the companion volume to the Gospel of Luke. So we know not to dwell on the impracticalities in the story. Like, did the Cretans and Arabs and Phrygians ever go home? What about these new believers who had come to town for the big religious festival? Did their family members come and check on them and drag them back to the farm? What about the family members of these new believers – how did they feel about the new socialist commune that had been set up in Jerusalem, and did they approve of their family members flogging off their possessions?
Of course, Luke has a story to tell, so doesn’t get bogged down in minutiae like cashflow and family conflict. Perhaps we shouldn’t either. A rollicking adventure is underway – it’s not meant to be dissected, but enjoyed.
But as we hear this story today, with its talk of Jerusalem and the Temple, perhaps your mind, like mine, has drifted to the modern city of Jerusalem. The sophisticated metropolis of West Jerusalem, functionally the capital of the modern nation of Israel. The ‘old city’ – a walled Crusader construction, with remnants of the first century sometimes visible, dominated by the Al Aqsa Mosque and Dome of the Rock built on what was the Temple Mount. The Arab communities of East Jerusalem, Christian and Muslim, living in a weird limbo as so-called ‘permanent residents’ of Israel, but without the right to vote in national elections or hold a passport. And our minds, if we follow international news, might wander to the neighbourhood of Sheik Jarrah.
If we could go there right now, we might first visit St George’s Cathedral, and St George’s College – the heart of the Anglican presence in Jerusalem. If I was there, I would stop at the American Colony hotel because it’s one of the few places you can get bacon. We might walk past European consulates and the headquarters for international NGOs.
As we wander past homes, it might not be immediately evident that this was a Jewish neighbourhood founded in the nineteenth century called Shimon Ha-Tzadik. The people who lived there were Jewish immigrants who were inspired by the new ideology called Zionism, which dreamed of a permanent Jewish state. After Jewish militias invaded Palestine in 1948, and Jordan and the surrounding nations retaliated, the neighbourhood ended up on the Jordanian side of the border. The Jews who had lived there had fled and could not return home, and Arabs were permitted to move in. Likewise, in the new state of Israel, Arabs who had fled could not return to their homes. In 1967, Israel attacked and reclaimed the territory and, since 1972, some Israelis have been involved in a legal battle to evict the Arabs and give the neighbourhood to Jews.
After nearly forty years in court, it seemed that the 70 or so Arab residents were about to be evicted. This became a flashpoint in the Palestinian struggle for liberation, and led to a range of violent interactions between Palestinian people and the Israeli Defence Force. Tragically, 219 people have been killed in Gaza, of which 63 were children. 20 people have been killed in the West Bank. 10 Israelis have died in rocket attacks.
This is all a far cry from Peter’s picture of the early church, where the Spirit is poured out on old and young, slave and free, and where property is shared with equity. But the violence and injustice that plagues Palestine and Israel is not because the people of that place have failed to embrace faith in Jesus. In fact, we have to be real and admit that Christians, particularly European Christians, have been key contributors to the exploitation of land and peoples. The Nakba, the Catastrophe, which Israelis call the War of Independence, was not a local conflict over land ownership, but a global struggle for hegemony in a key strategic location. The key funders and backers were Christians, many of them Anglicans.
We could, on this feast day of Pentecost, say that there has been bad behaviour on both sides, but that everyone needs to get along. We could call on all parties to be nice to one another and just sit down and talk. Mercifully, there has been a ceasefire, but that’s hardly the end of it.
But I suspect that the unpleasant reality that we have to face is that the Day of Pentecost did not create a flawless church nor a just society. The Romans still held sway. The Temple Authorities were still corrupt. Christians would spend half their time arguing with one another and the other half splitting off into factions. Pentecost is a foretaste of the Day of the Lord, but we are not there yet. The Holy Spirit might use a vibrant church, or an equitable society, to work. But actually the Holy Spirit is rather non-discriminatory and has very low standards. She can use anyone to achieve God’s dream. That’s the whole point - the Spirit is at work in the world regardless, using whoever is necessary to achieve God’s purposes.
Until the day of the Lord, we invite the Spirit to shape and guide us, prepare us and train us for the time when wars and division cease, and everyone who calls on the Lord shall be saved.
The Lord Be With You