Pentecost is the birthday of the Church. Fifty days after Pascha, the Holy Spirit descended on the Apostles in tongues of fire, and they went out speaking languages they’d never learned. The Church was born that day in Jerusalem, and we’ve been celebrating it ever since.
You’ll find the story in Acts 2. The Apostles were gathered together when suddenly there came a sound from heaven like a rushing wind. Tongues of fire appeared and rested on each of them. They began speaking in other languages, and Jews from every nation under heaven heard the Good News in their own tongue. Peter stood up and preached, and three thousand people were baptized that day.
But Pentecost isn’t just about remembering something that happened two thousand years ago. It’s about what’s still happening now.
The Holy Spirit didn’t descend once and then leave. He came to dwell in the Church permanently. Every time we celebrate the Divine Liturgy, every time we baptize someone, every time we anoint with oil or hear a confession, the same Spirit who descended at Pentecost is at work. This is why we call Pentecost the birthday of the Church, not because the Apostles formed a religious organization, but because the Spirit came to live in us and transform us into the Body of Christ.
We’re not just talking about inspiration or good feelings. The Spirit’s work is theosis, our transformation into the likeness of God. Salvation isn’t a one-time legal transaction where God declares us “not guilty.” It’s an ongoing healing, a process of becoming by grace what Christ is by nature. The Spirit makes this possible. He’s the one doing the work in us.
Pentecost falls on a Sunday, always fifty days after Pascha. We wear green vestments that day. People bring flowers and green branches to church, you’ll see the whole building decorated with living things, because the Spirit brings life. The hymns are some of the most beautiful of the year. The troparion says it plainly: “Blessed art Thou, O Christ our God, Who hast revealed the fishermen as most wise, having sent upon them the Holy Spirit, and through them Thou hast fished the universe.”
The Liturgy itself recalls our baptism. We sing verses from Galatians instead of the usual Thrice-Holy Hymn: “As many as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ.” It’s a reminder that what happened to the Apostles at Pentecost happens to each of us when we’re baptized and chrismated. The same Spirit comes to dwell in us.
Here’s something you might not expect. From Pascha until Pentecost, we don’t kneel. Not once. We stand for everything because we’re celebrating the Resurrection. But immediately after the Divine Liturgy on Pentecost Sunday, we serve Vespers, and we kneel for the first time in fifty days.
Those Kneeling Prayers are worth coming back for if you’ve already been to Liturgy. St. Basil the Great wrote three long, beautiful prayers that we pray on our knees. They’re petitions for the Holy Spirit’s mercy, for the forgiveness of sins, for the departed, for the whole world. Some people find them the most moving part of the whole feastday. After seven weeks of standing in resurrection joy, we kneel again, not in defeat, but in humility before the Spirit who’s been given to us.
The day after Pentecost is called the Monday of the Holy Spirit. We celebrate the same hymns again. Then the following Sunday, we celebrate All Saints, every person who’s ever been transformed by the Spirit into the likeness of Christ. You see the connection? Pentecost, then the Holy Spirit, then all the saints the Spirit has made. That’s the whole point. The Spirit came so we could become saints.
If you grew up Baptist or Church of Christ here in Southeast Texas, you probably heard about Pentecost in Sunday School. You might’ve even sung “There’s a Sweet, Sweet Spirit in This Place” without realizing the connection. What you might not have heard is that this isn’t just ancient history. The Church that was born at Pentecost is still here. The Spirit who descended then still descends now in the Mysteries. When you’re baptized at St. Michael’s, the same thing happens to you that happened to those three thousand in Jerusalem.
That’s not poetry. We mean it literally.
Pentecost closes the Paschal season and opens the rest of the liturgical year. We start singing “O Heavenly King” again, the prayer to the Holy Spirit that we set aside during Pascha. We resume our normal fasting. The Church moves from celebrating what Christ did to living in the power of the Spirit he sent. And that’s where we are now, in the long season after Pentecost, being transformed slowly into the people God made us to be.
Come to Vespers on Pentecost if you can. Those Kneeling Prayers are something.
