Pentecost was better known in Jewish times as Shavuot; on this feast, which occurred 50 days after Passover (coming out of Egypt), the people of Israel received the law in Sinai.
Move the camera to the upper room in Jerusalem around one thousand years later: 50 days after Jesus was crucified on Passover, but now risen, he comes to the disciples and breathes on them.
He breathed on them to ascertain that he was more than just an external symbol but a powerful force of love, forgiveness, and blessings within them. Jesus breathed on them, and something happened that turned the apostles’ lives upside down.
Something transformed men staggering with anguish into people dancing with joy, “drunk” (Acts 2:13) with courage: it is the Spirit, a flame that rekindles lives, a wind that sweeps in from the upper room, an earthquake that topples perilous, faulty buildings and leaves standing only what is solid. Pentecost happened, liberating them from inner fear and being paralyzed.
And just as at the beginning in the book of Genesis, the Creator breathed his own life on Adam, so now Jesus breathes his life, that vital and luminous principle, that intensity that made him different, that made his way of treating and loving people unique, and opened broad horizons for them.
Dear Lord, please breathe on me as if I were a choking patient, a breathless runner, or a nervous wreck needing a fresh breath. I need you!
