Fifty days after Passover, or in church language, Holy Week, God’s Spirit creates a radically reshaped community. We call this the Day of Pentecost, while Jews named it the Feast of Weeks, named for the first-fruits of the harvest (cf. Leviticus 23:15–21). The believers who were gathered welcome the fresh arrival of the Spirit and the empowering of all Christians. Peter preaches the good news about Jesus’ resurrection and ascension, and 3,000 believed and were baptized.
We can’t skim over the opening of Acts 2: “they were all together in one place” (2:1). Rather than say “they were together” or they were “all in one place,” Luke triples it: “all” and “together” and “in one place.” Never estimate the powerful potential when believers in Christ gather. Two words that come to my mind in this passage are uncontrollable and unpredictable. We can’t predict or control what the Holy Spirit will do. When we gather, obey and pray, we put ourselves in a place where God can work.
The first Christians lived communally (2:44–45). They voluntarily shared with each other. How can the Gospel rearrange everything—our economics, our relationships and our attachments?
About Corey Sharpe
Where do we get our beliefs?
Three theological perspectives have significantly shaped my Christian identity: Evangelicalism, the early Methodist tradition and liberation theology.
From my coming to faith in a Baptist church and throughout my education in a Baptist school and college, I was nurtured by convictions that emphasized a spiritual rebirth, a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and the centrality of the Bible. Even when I disagree with certain aspects of evangelicalism, it has deeply influenced my sense of what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ.
My seminary studies spawned my interest in early Methodism, particularly its approach to spiritual formation. Its leaders were convinced that only a foundation of doctrine and discipline would lead to a meaningful transformation of the heart and mind. In other words, having the mind of Christ enables me to be more like Christ.
Life in a suburban culture obscures the increasing gap between the poor and rich, as well as the Bible’s close identification with the poor. My doctoral work in socio-cultural context exposed me to liberation theology, which helps me see redemptive history as a history of oppressed groups, written from the perspective of the powerless, about a God who is actively involved with the poor in their struggles.
I am now the pastor at Mount Zion United Methodist Church in St Mary’s County, Maryland. Together my wife and I have 4 children.