Summary: I don't know if you've ever had the slightly embarrassing experience of having someone give you a gift, only to find out when you opened it, you did not have the foggiest idea what it was or what it was for. I mean, there you are: you're at the company Christmas party, or at a wedding shower, or at your birthday party, and someone hands you a gaily wrapped package. As you pull off the ribbon and the wrapping paper, all the eyes in the circle are on you. You open the box and there it is.... But is it a pencil sharpener or a coffee grinder? ...a scarf or a bread napkin? ... earrings or fishing lures? Of course, the person who gave you the gift is looking at you with eager anticipation, as if to say, "Well, do you like it?" And finally, out of courtesy, you have to say something, so you say, "Oh, how could you have known? Thank you so much. I can really use a tire pressure gauge." Only to have a wounded voice say, "Tire gauge?! That's a meat thermometer!" There is something of the same uncertainty and perplexity, in a much deeper sense, about Pentecost. You heard the story--the leaders of the early church all gathered in one place when suddenly there was the sound of rushing wind like a tornado, then tongues of fire appeared resting on every head, and each one of them began speaking the gospel in other languages. Here on Pentecost, in dramatic fashion, something has been given to the church, a gift from God. But when we open it up, what exactly is this gift? What is it for?
