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 ideology. Some speak Liberal and some Conservative. Some speak the language of Caution and some that of Inclusion. 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 — they just cement the walls that divide us.

Maybe division is part of our 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’re connected by the Spirit.

The feeling of oneness in the first community doesn’t last long. Almost immediately they begin to argue about 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 experience is still with them. Likewise, in the Pentecost account from John, the risen Christ visits them, giving peace, breathing on them, sending the Spirit, and telling them to forgive. Presence. 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 privileges. I think of the many people fleeing their countries to seek asylum in the U.S. I think of African American people who live in a country with systemized racism as well as Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders who are dealing with bigotry and violence. I think of transgender people and their families trying to seek care amidst ignorance, misunderstanding, and even harm. I think of students and families afraid of gun violence at school because that safe place might not be safe anymore. And we may hear about all of these as political issues, just part of our discourse, but the reality is that exclusion of anyone disrupts the unity of the whole community. If there was ever a painful symbol of our disunity it’s a lonely, wounded gunman shooting people in their trusted a safe place — a store, their school, their synagogue. Our oneness has been terribly severed — or, at least, our recognition of our unity has been severed. We’re still one even if we think we’re not. I don’t know how to restore our sense of unity, but I do know that our fragmentation and division is not what God calls us to.

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 discomfort, even for well-meaning 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 distress. However, if we make a practice encountering each other with respect, curiosity, and listening, it’s a start. It’s a good start. We have to want to do better, and most of us do want to do better.

It may seem incredibly naïve to talk about unity when our division is just tearing people up. However, I still believe in oneness in our diversity. The beloved community is worth working for. In the spirit of Pentecost, as we celebrate the breath of the Spirit moving over people and drawing them together, God is calling us too. Presence. Peace. Room to breathe. Spirit. Forgiveness. That’s what Christ gives us; maybe we foster our oneness by offering these to each other too.

For Reflection:

• Have you ever felt the movement of the Holy Spirit? What did that feel like? How did God let you know it was the Spirit moving with you?

• What do oneness and unity mean to you? What do they feel like?

• How is God calling you, and us, to bring about the Kingdom of God, the Community of the Spirit, in our day?

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 enjoys music, dancing, and meaningful conversations.