29.05.2026
Saint Francis
The Rev. Christian Jennert, Bridge Pastor
Sermon Day of Pentecost, May 24, 2026
Today, the church observes Pentecost – the festival that sets into motion the events that will form the church. That is why Pentecost has often been called the “birthday of the church”. It is one of the great festivals of the Christian year – one of those few “red days” when we celebrate the pouring out of God’s Holy Spirit upon those first believers.
And today, here at St. Francis Lutheran Church, we began this service in a particularly powerful way: gathering around flame.
This morning, we lit the Pentecost fire outside and carried that flame into this sanctuary together. And throughout today’s worship, that Spirit flame remains at the center of the chancel as a visible reminder that the Holy Spirit is not merely an idea from long ago, but a living presence among us even now.
Fire in the scriptures is never simply decoration. It illuminates. It warms. It purifies. Sometimes it unsettles. And most often, it transforms.
The Spirit at Pentecost did not arrive quietly or politely. The Spirit came with wind and flame and disruption. Languages broke open. Boundaries shifted. People heard good news in ways they never expected.
And perhaps that is part of why Pentecost can make us good Lutherans a little nervous.
Because most of us prefer predictability. We humans like plans with clear goals and manageable outcomes: daily plans, annual plans, five-year plans. We imagine what faithfulness should look like. We imagine what renewal should look like. We imagine what the future should look like.
But Pentecost reminds us that the Holy Spirit is not always interested in preserving our expectations.
Sometimes we think we know exactly what we want from the future – personally, congregationally, even spiritually. Yet the Spirit may be opening a completely different path before us. Not necessarily the path we would have chosen. But perhaps the path we need. Perhaps the path God has in store.
And I say that carefully today. Not in a sensational way. Not in a “the Spirit told me this” kind of way. But simply in recognition that throughout scripture, God’s Spirit continually surprises people, leading them beyond fear, beyond certainty, and sometimes beyond their own limited imagination.
The Spirit does not erase wisdom or planning or discernment. But the Spirit does remind us that God is still active, still creating, still reforming, still breathing life where we may only see limitation or uncertainty.
That matters especially in a time like ours.
Former Bishop Mark Holmerud once noted that when our Sierra Pacific Synod came into existence back in 1988, there were 220 ELCA congregations and 84,000 baptized members across northern California and northern Nevada. By the end of 2013, there were 193 congregations and 45,000 baptized members. Moving forward another decade, we now have 176 congregations in our synod. This trend will most likely continue.
Those numbers are real. They matter. They tell part of the story. But they are not the whole story. Because in spite of fewer congregations and fewer members, Pentecost is still happening. Every day. The Holy Spirit has not abandoned the church.
The Spirit is still moving whenever compassion is shown, whenever reconciliation happens, whenever justice is sought, whenever someone who felt alone discovers they are loved, whenever the hungry are fed, whenever forgiveness is spoken, whenever hope refuses to die.
The Spirit is still active in congregations that are discerning who they are becoming. The Spirit is still active in neighborhoods longing for connection and healing. The Spirit is still active in ordinary people quietly trying to live lives of mercy, courage and truth.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus describes the Spirit as an Advocate – one who accompanies us, teaches us, reminds us, and gives peace in the midst of fear. Not certainty about everything. But peace. Presence. Companionship.
Martin Luther once wrote: “Be careful, therefore, not to regard the Holy Spirit as a Law-maker, but as proclaiming to your heart the Good News of Christ.” That is the work of the spirit – not crushing us beneath fear, but freeing us for love.
And so perhaps one of the invitations of Pentecost is simply this: to remain open. To remain open. To trust that God is not finished with the church. To trust that even when the future looks different than we once imagined, the Spirit may still be creating something holy, meaningful, faithful, and alive. The fire before us today reminds us of that.
Not a fire that destroys. But a fire that guides. A fire that gathers. A fire that reminds us that Christ is still present among us.
And so today, may we notice the movement of the Spirit – within this congregation, within this city, within our own lives – and may we have the courage to follow where the Spirit leads.
And the peace of God . . . Amen.
