“You Can’t Silence the Spirit”

Pentecost Sunday

May 24, 2026

Acts 2:1-21

John 20:19-23

Children’s Message:

You know, we don’t talk about the Holy Spirit as much as we should in church. What do you think the Spirit is like? What does she look like or sound like? We don’t know! That’s why the scripture writers use words that give us imagery—water, wind, fire. Today’s story about the Spirit coming among the disciples is a great example. They experienced something like a rushing wind, all stormy and chaotic. Then, they experienced something like the power of language settling on them, as if they were lit by fire from above and within.

When we heard about Jesus’ baptism, we are told that the Spirit rested on him from above, kind of like a dove landing. So, when we imagine the Spirit, we imagine a dove, and wind, and breath, and fire. But the Spirit is so much more than that—and not that at all. Confusing right?

It’s like this balloon. What will happen if I tie it off and release it? It just lands there and doesn’t move, right? When we try to describe the Spirit, we’re trying to make her easy to understand. But what happens if I don’t tie off the balloon and then release it? It’s going to fly all around, all willy-nilly. Will it be easy to catch? Nope. Want to try?

That’s the kind of moving power that God gave the disciples that day in our story. A fiery, windy, watery chaos that moved them to do something they never thought they would do. They told people from all over the known world about Jesus—in the language of the people! How many languages can you speak? To be fair, the disciples could probably speak Hebrew, Greek, and Aramaic, but there were a lot more languages gathered. And this uncontrollable Spirit gave them some unimaginable power to do the unthinkable. And that started a wildfire of faith that has been going for over 2,000 years.

Let’s pray. Dear God, light your fire in our hearts. Breathe peace into our souls. Wash away our fear. Make us a holy force for good. Amen.

Message:

Pentecost—50 days. That’s what it means. It’s not originally a Christian holiday. It was a Jewish pilgrimage, 50 days after Passover. Also known as Shavuot—the ‘Festival of Weeks’—7 weeks after Passover. It’s when the Jewish people would bring their first fruits of the harvest as sacrifice in honor of God’s abundance. It was a reminder that God provides. It’s tied to God’s promises and God’s Law give to Moses—to care for the vulnerable, to place trust in God and not in one’s own productivity. It is grounded in faith, justice, and mercy.

So, what better time to empower the disciples with the abundance of language in order to share the good news of Jesus with the world. Because those from all over would return to their homelands and would share the same message with their communities. It’s the slow, old fashion version of a video going viral.

And what is that good news? The good news is that the Messiah has come, as promised. The good news is that, though Rome and the Temple authorities tried to silence him because he had become controversial, God raised him up. The tomb could not hold the life of God. Death can not stop hope in God. The powers of this world can not stop Love. Can not stop Justice. Can not stop God.

So, when I watched the video of the Watertown, WI community gathering to share a piece of music at Immanuel Evangelical Lutheran Church, I thought of Pentecost. I thought of the voices that are often silenced when they become controversial. I thought of the nations who, had Jesus stayed dead—or not been killed, at all—would perhaps never have heard God' s message of good news. And I thought of the hope that is born when people refuse to be silenced.

Earlier this month, as the Watertown High School Band prepared for their spring concert, one of their songs was brought to the school board with concerns. The song, “A Mother of A Revolution,” by Omar Thomas, was composed in honor of Marsha P. Johnson—a trans person of color and a key figure in the 1969 Stonewall Uprising against police raids on the LGBTQ community in New York City.

The band director had sent a letter home back in October, letting families know that they would be preparing this song for the spring concert. They would learn about the Stonewall Uprising and the raids. The director said, “Engaging with this piece helps foster empathy, cultural awareness, and respect for the stories and struggles that shape our shared history.” The school board said that the song promoted violence and that it was inappropriate for the school band to perform. They voted 7-1 to ban it from the program. The kids spoke up. The parents spoke up. The community spoke up. But the concert went on without the song on May 18.

The story went viral. As did the performance of the banned music two days later at Immanuel Lutheran, directed by the composer, himself. Several of the high school students participated, as did area band directors and Watertown alumni. This 4 ½-minute piece has now been heard by hundreds of thousands of people from all over the world.

A nearby band director who helped prep the impromptu band said this as an introduction to the piece: “You can’t extinguish the light by closing your eyes.” In terms of the Pentecost power of the Spirit—and pardon me for the crassness of this statement—but I would say it like this: you can’t put out a raging fire by urinating on it. And the fire—this fire of the Spirit, the fire of justice, the fire of voices being silenced—will not be extinguished.

Had the board simply allowed the band to perform the song, there would be no story. Most of the world would not know about Marsha P. Johnson or Omar Thomas. People wouldn’t have googled the Stonewall Uprising to find out what the fuss was all about. They wouldn’t learn how the Stonewall Inn offered a safe space for the queer community of New York—how the community rose up against the injustice of police raids and arrests—and how, even as recently as this year, the government attempted to ban the PRIDE flag from being flown at the location.

But love keeps coming back. It keeps coming back stronger and louder. Every time. Because you can’t silence the Spirit. You can’t keep God in a tomb. And you can’t stop the Good News of justice from rolling down like streams in the desert.

Had they not tried to silence Jesus, there would be no story to tell. Sure, some guy way back when did some miracles and caused some commotion and told some parables. He had a following for a while, but no one would remember—or care. But their efforts to control love backfired. Every effort to control love eventually backfires. And the word gets out. And the Word spreads like wind and flame and water. And the Word goes out to all the world. Viral. Refusing to be shut down.

In every language. In every heart. Until, one day, the last day, the Truth of God’s Love will have made its way into all of God’s beloved Creation. Until that day, our job is to keep fanning the flame, proclaiming the good news, and living in such a way that the world sees the light of Christ in our words and actions.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE