A thunderous, rushing noise. A babble of voices. Visions of fire. And the crowds – still buzzing with holy-day energy – stop to listen.

What do they hear? The sound of change and challenge. The liberating news of a life-affirming kingdom – the wonders of God…each listener hearing this in their own language.

It is easy to jump to conclusions when you are in the midst of something that defies explanation. Wind, we understand – and language too. But instant, simultaneous translation? God moves in many mysterious directions, and these are (apparently) just a sample.

An accusations of public drunkenness is an interesting charge – since it is not just the disciples who have been affected with their wild and wonderful proclamations, but listeners are also changed. (Can you easily pick out your own language from a babble of different accents, languages and emotions?) It seems that this imposing and impulsive Spirit has an effect even on the casual observer.

Peter speaks into the moment, correcting the cynics and reminding everyone that one of God’s promise-giving prophets predicted just such a moment. A frenzy of visions and dreams – divine energy to encourage and enable. Look at the evidence, says Peter. What is on display is not bad behaviour, but salvation. God is at work, right in front of you.

‘So what?’ say the Presbyterians. That spirit-filled stuff is all well and good, but we don’t go for that. Dreams and visions are part of the tradition, and certainly some divine energy would not go amiss these days – but we are more inclined to ‘decency and good order.’ Such a display in our midst would probably generate rumours of drunkenness, or worse, the suspicion of delusional behaviour. We can’t have that!

Our typical approach to faith – orderly and cautious; scholarly and thorough – doesn’t leave much room for divine spontaneity. But listen to how Peter claims Joel’s words for a new time and place, and wonders aloud if people are prepared for the dreams and visions associated with God’s activity in their midst.

Salvation is Peter’s watchword. And so we wonder, what might God be offering to save us from?

These Pentecost images are always a little unsettling. The gift of the Spirit – the noise and the empowerment – come at a cost and with a warning; If we are willing to accept the gift, we must be prepared to loosen our grip on the things we say are important.

All this talk of signs in the sky and traumatic descriptions of “blood and fire and billows of smoke” are meant to remind us of the state of things when humans have their way with the world – when we think first of ourselves, our profits, our power structures, our political and religious certainties. This unsettling Pentecost festival in Jerusalem is a sign that there are things beyond our control and understanding that can moves us in new and potentially life-giving directions.

The Spirit can shake us from our lethargy and rouse us from our acceptance of the status-quo. We say ‘it is what it is’ as though we were powerless. With this Pentecost display, God reminds us of the power available to us.

The Spirit carries the power of imaginative creativity. The Spirit unleashes a new means of understanding – each in their own language – and offers an alternative to the ‘go-along-to-get-along’ mindset.

The Spirit is offered that we might be saved from ourselves – from our stale expectations of God, from our misunderstanding/misappropriation of the message of Jesus. The Spirit has the power to move through us – to bowl us over; a blessed, blasted wind – yet still has the ability to sneak up on us and whisper gently a word that will set us free.

Our ears – tuned, for our own safety to the loud, dangerous, powerful voices of class and economy and cultural expectations – have a hard time hearing those gentle words…in any language. In the excitement of the Spirit’s arrival, we forget that Jesus was trying to help us tune our ears (and the rest of our senses) to the wonderous, heavenly reality that surrounds us.

“Consider the Lillies” he says. “Let the children come…” he says.

“Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you” he says – his less-than-intuitive (some would say radically generous) approach to the world around him is meant to be our training regimen – the pattern by which we are made ready and able to receive God’s gifted Spirit.

And, it happens that while we wait on the Spirit, the Spirit waits on us…and searches for us…and surprises us with ideas and energy and the ability to recognize the work of God as it happens.

The chaotic day described in Acts chapter 2 sets in us a false hope that the Spirit will announce her arrival in ways we cannot ignore, but it’s not like that. Neither is the Spirit always quiet – and the Spirit is never idle. It is like the wind that can – in one moment – lazily turn an old windmill, and in the next moment, topple trees and flatten fences.

God’s generous, unpredictable, unstoppable Spirit still ranges over creation, finding both willing and occasionally reluctant partners for God’s kingdom building work.