We are creatures of habit. That may be about how we order our days, or if our days lack much relationship to order, finding one or two unvarying routines, whether that's a first cup of coffee or tea, a daily text to a child or a weekly phone call to a parent who's no longer nearby. We tend to have patterns in what we wear, the kinds of vacations we take (or whether we actually take vacations), the people with whom we spend time, the ways we do or don't organize a desk if we happen to have one. As anyone who's spent time in the Episcopal Church knows, we are a church with worship that follows very consistent patterns. We may celebrate the Eucharist using one of a few different forms, but those forms are drawn almost always from the Book of Common Prayer, the hymns chosen from the hymnal, though we allow a few variations and the prayers we use in worship are prayers carefully crafted several decades and sometimes several centuries ago. Those of us who like Episcopal worship (shockingly not everyone does) know that this very consistency can create room for our own quite individual concerns, prayers and praises. Not caught up wondering what we are going to say or do next in a service we also find that there is room for the Spirit of God to address us.

It's always been striking to me that Pentecost, the day when the Holy Spirit fell upon the disciples and then led them to take the good news of Jesus' life, death and resurrection into the wide world came in most accounts well after Easter. Jesus promised that the Spirit would come and, in John's Gospel, even said that unless and until he departed this world, the Spirit could not come to them. Once they had gotten over the shock and joy of Jesus' resurrection, I suspect they wondered where the Spirit was or worried that they had somehow missed its arrival. First one week went by, then another and then another and still another. Then there was Jesus' ascension into heaven, which the church calendar fixes forty days after Easter although the Gospels are quite varied in their reports, with some placing it almost immediately after Jesus resurrection. One can almost imagine the disciples watching as Jesus ascends and thinking, "Now, surely the Sprit will come." But it does not. Not for another ten days.

When the Spirit does come, a full fifty days after Easter, there was no mistaking it. No one was left worrying that they had somehow missed it. The descriptions of the Spirit descending upon the disciples found in the second chapter of the Book of Acts are incredibly dramatic. A loud rushing wind. Tongues like fire alighting upon each of them. Its effects were pretty dramatic too, as those gathered began to speak in languages they did not know, apparently fluently. People nearby, in Jerusalem but from other nations, heard them and recognized and understood the "wonderful words of God" being spoken in their own languages by this ragtag band of disciples.

The drama of the story is wonderful, but what we often overlook is what the disciples did before the Spirit came racing into their midst. They did three things. The first thing they did was welcome others into their number. When we talk about the disciples before Easter, we almost always mean the twelve closest to Jesus. But in the days before Pentecost we're told that the disciples numbered about 120 men and the women who had travelled with Jesus supporting his ministry. The women who had been the first witnesses to the resurrection are now openly acknowledged to be part of the gathered community. If you were a follower of Jesus, you were welcome. But even as their number expanded, they continued the practices, the patterns, of their days. So the second thing they did was to gather together for prayer, though whether that was true of each day or once a week we do not know. And, finally, they kept talking about Jesus. Remembering his words, recalling his work, recounting the resurrection.

For some of us, the summer is a time when our patterns shift. We may find ourselves heading out of the city, for a day or for weeks at a stretch. Most of us will spend more time outdoors, glad for the gift of longer and warmer days (until we complain that it's too hot). Some of us will have a chance to see people we may not have seen for months or years. If we are not in New York, we may find ourselves in a different church, even a different denomination, maybe even without a prayer book to guide the worship. But the first disciples' example will serve us well. For wherever we are, we can join into a community of those who follow Jesus, we can pray and we can keep talking about Jesus. Wherever we are, finding ourselves in a community that listens to Jesus' words recalls and joins in his work of justice and healing and celebrates the resurrection—not only with our lips but with our lives. That is meant to be the pattern of our days. Every day.

—The Rev. Brenda G. Husson, Rector