Passion: That Breath of God
By Kathy Silvie
Kathy is the former Director of Christian Education at Edgewood Presbyterian Church in Birmingham, Alabama, USA. She is a specialist in children's ministry, a working mom, and "a woman at the well."

My friend, Margot, is a real treat. She is unflappable, so "together". To confess, we envy her … a doting husband, three adorable kids, the collie, the lovely yet lived-in brick home. But we don't hate her for what she has, which she has come by honestly. We love her for what she is. And what she is, is wise. She understands a concept I've struggled with for a long time. She understands the Pentecost.

The discussion came as an offshoot from another topic. Her grandmother, Sofia, had recently returned from a visit to the old country. Mammo, as we affectionately know her, keeps the old faith. "What I find most remarkable", was my comment, "is that she has remained so faithful to the old ways."

"Why should that be remarkable?" Margot asked. We were sitting at her kitchen table, planning for the VBS kickoff. "When one experiences the breath of God", Margot declared, face toward the ceiling and eyes gently closed, one is marked forever." She used the Pentecost, one of Mammo's favorite God stories, as her springboard. The ancients who were in that Upper Room, she explained, were present in part out of obedience to an ancient requirement: offering thanks to Holy God for the Torah, and pledging their first fruits to the Glory of God. But when the breath of God came down on the people, the obstacle of foreign language was removed from them and they were empowered by the Holy Spirit to praise God together, and to witness to Jesus the Christ. Yes, I already knew that. Had I missed something?

She continued, not looking up from the craft supplies she sorted, "Remember that song Mammo used to sing? It had a chorus that went something like, 'Help somebody today, somebody along life's way, let sorrow be ended, the friendless befriended, help somebody today.' Remember?" I remembered. She had sung it often. Margot continued, "Mammo believes that the key to the Pentecost story is the word 'they'. They, as in together/many, and not he as in one/only. And so they together," she emphasized the words, "were empowered to declare witness to Jesus the Christ. Don't you see? So therefore, together we are to worship and serve. Together, we are to care for the widows and orphans in their affliction. Together, we will find Jesus hungry and feed Him. And the breath of God, the real presence of the Holy Spirit, is the essential ingredient to being together in this action." A simple yet loving interpretation, I thought.

"But", I argued, "modern theologians feel that breath of God business was just a metaphor, it isn't real. The modern church even debates whether or not the Pentecost story should be used as a catalyst for personal religious experience what with all that speaking in tongues. Most Bible stories are just legends anyway."

Margot laughed. "Mammo says we are living in what she calls a state of spiritual neglect. She sees a loss of passion in our worship. Without passion, we'll see a decline in our witnessing and in our serving. And when our passion for the breath of God is gone, that trophy for the Southtown Cougars, instead of feeding the hungry, becomes the focus for your existence."

I have to agree with Sofia. To understand the Pentecost one needs passion. If ancient encounters with the Holy Spirit are relegated to legend and lore, they become mere entertainment, and passion for Pentecost fades. I pondered this as we finished our tea and our planning. I promised myself to engage Sofia more frequently in her story telling, while she is still able to tell them. I promised myself to read again the Pentecost story, but this time with passion.

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