Pentecost 04
We’ve just had Pentecost Monday.
For those poor wankers without almanacs, that means 50 days since Easter.
It’s a special moment for certain evangelical groups, because in the Bible it marks the time when some of the apostles regrouped after the martyrdom of the Christ and preached to crowds of many a foreign tongue. They became engulfed in flame and went all: “blabbidy dfoija asdfim adfoim woiup oaem as?oimne!” And all of a sudden they were understood. According to the Good Book they were somehow understood in all languages.
Many a calvinist-protestant-mennonite denomenation has based the cornerstone of faith on this phenomenon (along with the rest of the Good News of course).
Yet as tempted as I am to ridicule the supersticious act of tonguespeak, I cannot deny that I can identify with Pentecostalism.
How many times have you found yourself in an argument in which you found yourself trapped in the trivial, and found yourself lacking in ways to articulate the fire that burns in your heart? Have you ever wished to be able to drop to your knees, throw off the pettiness of their arguments and yours, and just let rip a stream of light out of your chest? That you might connect directly with the souls of others? (For the Jazz cats, see: Coltrane after he singlehandedly exhausted harmony…)
Admit it. You have too.
But this divine level of inter-communcation simply does not exist on this mortal plane. We can either accept this and deal with each other by way of mundane grunts and gestures, or we can just throw our hands to them heavens and wait for our well-deserved rescue. Therefore we have at this time two options: we can hide in bunkers and wait for the “inevitable” rapture or we can shed sweat and blood to make this Earth the heaven we strive for, non-respectively.