When Pentecost day came round, they had all met together, when suddenly there came from heaven a sound as of a violent wind which filled the entire house in which they were sitting; and there appeared to them tongues as of fire; these separated and came to rest on the head of each of them. They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak different languages as the Spirit gave them power to express themselves. Now there were devout men living in Jerusalem from every nation under heaven, and at this sound they all assembled, and each one was bewildered to hear these men speaking his own language. They were amazed and astonished. 'Surely,' they said, 'all these men speaking are Galileans? How does it happen that each of us hears them in his own native language? Parthians, Medes and Elamites; people from Mesopotamia, Judaea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya round Cyrene; residents of Rome- Jews and proselytes alike -- Cretans and Arabs, we hear them preaching in our own language about the marvels of God.'
image from http://www.franciscan-sfo.org/FP/Godslove4.html
Cam, the picture is nice, the scripture is inspiring, but I have a gripe nevertheless. In just over one hour I will be subjected to listening to the readings & psalms in various languages other than English. This to me seems more like a celebration of Babel, than it does of Pentecost.
ReplyDeleteThen again, my grumpiness may also be more a reflection of skipping my prozac for several days instead of a genuine complaint with liturgy. :)
btw - Kay has agreed to helping you move if you will foot the gasoline $$$ to CA. :):) So, as I take another sip of coffee, I toast your new abode, wish you well, and wish you were rich (someday I'm gonna see those redwoods in person).
Take care & God bless! - Cliff