What touched me this Pentecost is how 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 seem like a wonderful dream? I wish people in our day could 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 Spanish or French, but I’m talking about the languages of political division. Some speak Liberal and some Conservative. Some speak the language of Caution and some that of Open-the-Economy. Some speak the language of Secular and others Progressive Religious and still others Religious Right. Some speak Social Justice and others Self-Protection Status Quo. Our different languages have no common ground. They aren’t helping us to understand each other but cementing the walls that divide us.

Maybe division is human nature, but God calls us to unity. Oneness doesn’t mean sameness, and as I think about the Feast of Pentecost, I see how it celebrates unity in diversity. The people who gather are all devout Jews, but they come from different places, and some are even converts to Judaism. 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 such a profound encounter with God that 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 are 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 to the movement 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. In the Pentecost account from John, the risen Christ visits them, giving peace, breathing on them, sending the Spirit, and telling them to forgive. Peace. Room to breathe. Spirit. Forgiveness. Maybe that’s all community really needs. That, and a lot of work.

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 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. Consider the recent murders of African American people: Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and the many, many killed before them. Each one 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 in which those we commission to protect us harm people instead? 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 Rodriguez that said,

“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.

What would happen if we could approach each other this way, with honor and curiosity and deep listening? It’s not a quick fix, and it will involve missteps and discomfort for well-meaning white people. 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 grief and distress. However, I believe that if I make a practice encountering people with respect, curiosity, and listening, it’s a start. If I learn all that I can 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.

It may seem incredibly naïve to talk about unity when our division is just tearing people up. Literally. People are being murdered while they’re running in a neighborhood or resting at home. But I still believe in oneness in our diversity and that beloved community is worth working for. In the spirit of Pentecost, as we celebrate the breath of the Spirit moving over people, we must do something to do better. Some of us can’t even breathe.

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.