You fell upon your people as fire 2000 years ago, creating upheaval and new life. Your spark caught flame and ignited an awakening within your children and without.
You are fire; you are wind; you are water; and you are earth. Tongues of fire, wind of refreshing, water of baptism, and earth crafted into humanity — Jesus. You have come to us in all of your elements, Spirit. You nurture us and urge us to waken. We are alive because of you.
At this Pentecost, Spirit, come to us again — in wind and in rain and earth. The fires of the world have burned us enough. Entire streets are left in ashes, people are displaced. Fire has taken its measure beyond what many feel they can endure. We are hot… we are dry… we are covered in ashes… we are dusty… and we are fearful and tired.
Come to us in rain and baptism. Renew our thirsty earth as you slake our parched spirits. Bring forth coolness to ease the burdens of our burning world. Release the skies to meet the ground in furious showers.
Come forth to us in gentle breezes — sweet with spring, and with the promise of more rain. Touch our skins and souls in assurance. You are wind, you are breath. We breath you in and we breath you out every moment of our lives. Join our breath in your wind, and hasten away the smoke, the tears, and the heat.
Come to us in earth, as Jesus-in-One-Another. Open our eyes to see Jesus in the person before us and behind us. May we be Jesus to those who surround us. From dust we were created, and to dust we will return. As Jesus was made of dust and divine, may we too live out divine presence in our dust-filled bodies.
On this Pentecost, come to us anew. But come to us as Comforter in a world made of ashes and dust. Kindle our lives again. But we are frail. We cannot be made of fire alone. We are made of everything you infused into us. Bring to us all that is lacking so we are able to answer your voice, to respond to your call, and to speak with your fire, your wind, your rain, and your earth.