The Spirit’s Got Jokes: Pentecost, Flames, and the Weird Birth of the Church
By Rev. Rian Adams | St. James Episcopal Church – Port St. Joe, FL
🔥 What Really Happened at Pentecost?
This Sunday, churches will be draped in red, prayers whispered with reverence, and someone in the back will still ask,
“Wait, what’s Pentecost again?”
Let’s clear it up. Pentecost is often called the birthday of the Church—but don’t expect cake and streamers.
Think fire. Wind. Multilingual mayhem.
And Peter gives a sermon that somehow converts 3,000 people after being accused of being hammered drunk by noon.
It’s chaos. It’s holy. It’s where the Spirit showed up... loudly.
A Quick Refresher
Pentecost happens 50 days after Easter. It aligns with the Jewish festival of Shavuot—a harvest feast celebrating both abundance and the giving of the Law at Sinai.
In Acts 2, the disciples gather. Suddenly: wind. Fire. Unexpected languages. The crowd thinks they’ve lost it.
But Peter—fisherman-turned-fiery-preacher—declares:
“This is what the prophet Joel promised. The Spirit is for everyone.”
No theological degree required. No spiritual résumé needed.
The first Church service was loud, strange, and wildly inclusive.
Liturgical Lore and Pentecost Chaos Through the Ages
You thought your worship service was a little dramatic? Let’s talk medieval Pentecost.
Burning rose petals from the ceiling
Southern Italian churches wanted to simulate the flames of Acts 2, so they dropped flower petals—sometimes on fire—from trapdoors above.
Nothing says “Holy Spirit, come” like lighting a monk on fire.
(Source: Joan Chittister, The Liturgical Year)
Releasing live doves indoors
Medieval French churches lowered a dove on a string through a “Holy Ghost Hole” in the roof to represent the descending Spirit.
Lovely symbolism. Less lovely cleanup.
(Source: William S. Walsh, Christian Festivals and Customs)
Wind machines and firecrackers
In parts of Germany and Poland, parishes built literal wind machines to mimic the “mighty rushing wind.” Some added firecrackers and drums to the mix.
The original liturgical surround-sound.
(Source: Ronald Hutton, The Stations of the Sun)
Transylvanian water fights
In Eastern Europe, folks shouted “The Spirit is poured out!” while dumping water on each other during Pentecost processions.
A liturgical soaking.
(Source: Folk Customs of Europe)
Theology Under the Pyrotechnics
All this fire and flair isn’t just medieval pageantry. It’s deeply theological.
Pentecost is the moment God takes the divine message global.
No more sacred languages or gatekeeping.
The Spirit shows up uninvited and speaks in every language to every person.
It’s a reversal of the Tower of Babel.
At Babel, humanity tried to build upward and got scattered.
At Pentecost, God comes down, fills the people, and sends them outward with power.
The Church begins not with conformity, but with chaos, diversity, and Spirit-fueled courage.
Why Pentecost Still Matters
Especially for small, faithful congregations like ours on the Forgotten Coast—this feast is not nostalgia. It’s our origin story.
1. The Holy Spirit is not a polite guest.
She doesn’t knock. She blows the door off the hinges.
If you’re waiting for “respectable” Spirit, you’re going to wait a long time.
2. The Spirit doesn’t require credentials.
The Spirit fills doubters, loudmouths, fishermen, tax collectors, and day laborers.
You’re already qualified.
3. The miracle wasn’t just speech—it was understanding.
God speaks in the language of the listener.
Our job? Learn to speak in love and actually listen back.
4. Your spark is enough.
Pentecost isn’t about feeling holy all the time.
Sometimes you show up with fire. Sometimes just smoke. The Spirit still works.
5. Church is supposed to be a little weird.
The first one looked like a revival crossed with a flash mob.
So if your small group feels like misfits—good. You’re doing it right.
When the Spirit Shows Up Now
Deconstructing your faith?
Tired of performative religion?
Wondering if church can still be real?
Pentecost says: Yes.
God’s Spirit isn’t stuck in a book or behind the altar rail.
She’s in beach baptisms, messy community meals, hard conversations, holy silence.
And She still falls on the unqualified.
Which means She’s falling on you, too.
A Final Word from the Florida Panhandle
Here at St. James Episcopal Church in Port St. Joe, we believe the Spirit still moves.
We may not drop fire from the ceiling (OSHA would not approve), but we are expecting the unexpected.
So:
🟥 Wear red.
🕊️ Come curious.
🔥 Expect some Spirit-fueled mischief.
We’ll keep the doves outside, but don’t be surprised if the roof metaphorically blows off.