As I pray with the readings for Pentecost, what stirs in me are thoughts about unity and diversity and how language can either bring us together or drive us apart. In the reading from Acts, the Spirit empowers the disciples to speak to people in their own languages. As they proclaim “the mighty works of God” in ways everyone can understand, people come together in a shared holy experience.

Doesn’t that sound wonderful? I wish people in our day would unite like that. Instead, though, we’re all speaking different languages, and it’s tearing us apart. I don’t mean that some speak English and some French or Spanish; I’m talking about the language of ideologies. We’ve allowed those to replace our common language of humanity. Some speak Liberal and some Conservative. Some speak the language of Safety and some that of Rights. Some speak the language of Secular and others Progressive Spirituality and still others Religious Right. Some speak Social Justice and others Self-Protection Status Quo. Our different languages have no common foundation, or if they do, we don’t know it. They aren’t helping us to understand each other but rather cementing the walls that divide us.

Maybe division is human nature, but despite that, God calls us to unity. The oneness to which God calls us doesn’t mean sameness, though, and as I think about the Feast of Pentecost, I see how it celebrates unity in diversity. The people who gather all come from different places. Some are devout Jews, some are converts, and some are Gentiles. The Spirit moves them together, but they don’t lose their distinction. In fact, as they experience the Spirit, they name their identities: “We are Parthians, Medes, and Elamites . . .” They have a profound encounter with God and all they can do is ask each other, “What does this mean?” As they turn to those around them, who are also “astounded and bewildered,” they see that, even though they’re each unique, they’re all connected by the Spirit.

The feeling of oneness in the first community doesn’t last long. Almost immediately they begin to argue about how who can belong and how people in the community should behave. Even so, their community began with oneness and a common movement of the Spirit, and that’s still with them. Likewise, in the Pentecost account from John, we again witness the Spirit moving in a communal context. The risen Christ visits them as they’re gathered together, bestowing peace, breathing on them, sending the Spirit, and encouraging them to forgive. Maybe that’s really all that healthy community needs – peace, room to breathe, Spirit, and forgiveness. Those things, and a lot of work too.

How do we take our cue from Pentecost to appreciate our diversity and move toward oneness? Our U.S. society, like the first Christian community, has ideas about belonging, and the guiding forces that determine who’s in and who’s out make it harder for some than for others. White people, U.S. citizens, men, able-bodies, straight and cisgender people, middle class and wealthy people make their way in the world more easily than people who don’t have those identities, especially People of Color. When Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd were killed two years ago, people took to the streets to protest, but bigotry and violence continue, as we witnessed in the recent shooting in Buffalo. Each person we lose is beloved to their families and friends, and each is part of the beloved community. How can we all not mourn them deeply, and how can we allow a system that continues to oppress people? I’m not sure how we remedy injustice and bigotry, tremendous obstacles to our oneness, but I take inspiration from a quote I found by Carlos A. Rodríguez that says,

“I see no color” is not the goal. “I see your color and I honor you. I value your input. I will be educated about your lived experiences. I will work against the racism that harms you. You are beautiful. Tell me how to do better.” That’s the goal.

The reality is that we don’t have to speak the same language to love each other, but listening could help us to communicate. What would happen if we could approach each other with honor and curiosity and deep listening? It’s not a quick fix, and it would involve missteps and probably discomfort too. It takes hard work to unlearn prejudice, to stop talking out of ignorance, and to genuinely listen. The realization that privilege harms other people may cause dismay and distress. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, though. Discomfort doesn’t feel good, but it can be a step toward learning. If I make a practice of encountering people with respect, curiosity, and listening, even if it’s uncomfortable, it’s a start. If I learn about racism and how to be an antiracist, it’s a start. We have to want to do better. I do want to do better.

Actually, when I look back over my life and consider where and how the Spirit has led, guided, and called me, I notice that more often than not, it’s been uncomfortable. The Spirit constantly calls me away from what’s comfortable into something new. I kind of love/hate that about the Spirit. It’s not a natural thing to run toward danger, right? Or to run toward risk and growth, newness, and the things that will transform me. I’d rather sit in comfort and call it peace than move toward something that looks hard. But even the peace Christ breathes upon his disciples is not an easy peace. It may feel like – ah, tranquility – for a minute, but he’s about to send them out to preach the Gospel. They’ll experience every bit of the pushback, confrontation, persecution, and even death that Jesus did.

If it’s so hard, then why do we follow this Spirit anyway? For me, I follow its movement because it gives me life and energy (even if it’s uncomfortable sometimes). It directs me to God’s call and moves me toward exactly where I need to be for my own good and probably the good of other people too. I didn’t used to pray to the Spirit much. It felt like the most slippery Person of the Trinity, so ephemeral and hard-to-grasp. However, when I went to grad school and began training as a spiritual director, I began to feel the movement of the Spirit when I met with people. I remember when I directed my first retreat. I was awash in impostor syndrome and wondering how my program could really let it happen that I’d be directing people in their retreat. However, as soon as I began to meet with retreatants, I knew that the Spirit was there, that it directing the retreat, and I just tried to ride with it. And wow, did it move! Whoosh!

Since then, I’ve continued to experience the Spirit, and I’ve learned to look for it and to trust it, untamed though it may be. It’s alive and active. It’s what draws people and groups together, guides my decisions, brings about those twists and turns in life that make me feel topsy-turvy but that ultimately move me toward the good. You know that uncomfortable feeling you get when you know God’s calling you to something challenging? That’s the Spirit. Or that feeling of a sudden peace or sense of oneness and connection with people? Spirit. When you feel a presence with you in prayer, or when you feel that sense of flow when you’re creating something, or when you’re in awe of creation? Spirit. Spirit. Spirit.

The Holy Spirit is what brings together the most unlikely people and unites us as community, even through our many differences, and helps us to hold that paradox of oneness and diversity. The Spirit doesn’t ask us to conform so we’re all alike, but it does help us to communicate through the different languages we may speak.

The Spirit is still moving in and among us. May it continue to draw us together as a human community. May it show us how to connect with each other across our divides and to recognize and honor each other’s humanity, even when we disagree. We are not the same but we are one. Community is worth working for, and it’s possible, not because of us but because the Holy Spirit is on the move.

For Reflection

• What stirs in you as you reflect on Pentecost?

• Do you pray to the Holy Spirit? What is the Spirit like in your life and prayer?

• Is the Spirit nudging you toward anything now? Maybe take a moment to pray to the Spirit for guidance, courage, or whatever you may need?

By Sister Leslie Keener, CDP

Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She also serves on the Coordinating Council of Spiritual Directors International. She enjoys music, dancing, and meaningful conversations.