Grantsdale Community Church
2026-05-24-The Spirit Wakes You Up
  • Introduction
    I want to begin this morning with a scenario that all of us experience, but none of us enjoy.
    You are deeply, peacefully asleep. The room is dark, the temperature of the room and the covers are perfect, and you’ve reached that level of unconsciousness where the outside world has become entirely theoretical.
    Then something happens, it’s not the alarm, not a gentle nudge. Something loud and disorienting. A car alarm, a smoke detector, or a child who has decided that 3 a.m. is the perfect time to discuss some YouTube video.
    You bolt upright, your heart pounding. Your brain is trying to determine if you’re in danger or just simply awake, and for a moment those two things feel completely identical.
    That is a perfect description of Pentecost.
    I know that’s not the image most of us have. We tend to picture Pentecost as a beautiful, warm, golden experience. Something soft and glowing, the kind of thing you’d put on a stained-glass window. One where everyone looks serene and slightly illuminated. And there is something to that.
    But the actual text of Acts 2 is considerably more alarming. There is a violent rushing wind. There is fire. There are 120 people suddenly speaking languages, they have never learned.
    They’re speaking loudly enough to gather a crowd in the middle of a major city. And the crowd’s first reaction isn’t “Oh, how beautiful.” No, their first reaction, is “What in the world is this?” It’s immediately followed up with “They must be drunk.”
    Pentecost is the moment the Holy Spirit shows up and refuses to let the church stay asleep. It’s not a gentle wake-up call. It’s violent wind. It’s fire. It’s the divine equivalent of someone throwing open every window in the house on a windy day, during a large BBQ in the yard. Nothing about the room is quiet, still or even private anymore.
    Today we begin the Second Series of our Stay Awake Theme, “Awake to the World,” and our question has shifted. Series One asked why we must be awake and what it costs when we’re not.
    Now the question is: awake to what, exactly?
    And the answer that Pentecost gives us is both exhilarating and very inconvenient, we’re awake to the world. The Spirit doesn’t come to give the disciples a private spiritual experience.
    The Spirit comes to launch them outward, into the streets of Jerusalem, into every language under heaven. Into the world they had been hiding from, behind locked doors. The Spirit coming in the form of wind and fire at Pentecost are the 3am fire alarm. And the world is what we wake up to.

    The Room Before the Wind

    (Acts 2:1)
    Turn your Bibles to Acts 2 if you want to follow along. In order to understand Pentecost we must first start in that upper room BEFORE the wind comes.
    Look at verse 1:
    Acts 2:1 CSB
    1 When the day of Pentecost had arrived, they were all together in one place.
    A one sentence verse, just 14 English words. And everything about it matters.
    The day of Pentecost was a Jewish festival, Shavuot, celebrated fifty days after Passover. It commemorated the giving of the Torah at Sinai and was one of three great pilgrimage feasts.
    That’s why Jerusalem is packed with Jewish visitors from across the known world. The city is full, the streets are crowded. Which means when something extraordinary happens inside an upper room, there is an enormous audience immediately available outside.
    But notice where the disciples are. They’re all together in one place. Not in the temple. Not in the marketplace. Not out in the streets where all those potential listeners are.
    They are inside, together, in one place. Luke has already told us in Acts 1 that they’ve been waiting and praying in that upper room since the Ascension.
    Which is exactly what Jesus told them to do. And that is ten days of obedient, faithful, indoor waiting. He said in
    Acts 1:4 CSB
    4 While he was with them, he commanded them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the Father’s promise. “Which,” he said, “you have heard me speak about;
    So they waited. They prayed. They did the administrative work of the community and replaced Judas. And then, the wind came. And the inside became the outside, whether they were ready or not.
    Hold onto that image for just a moment, because I think it’s an accurate description of what the Holy Spirit tends to do in a church community. The disciples weren’t doing anything wrong. They were being faithful.
    They were praying and waiting exactly as instructed. But, there’s a disobedient version of faithful waiting that can become, almost imperceptibly, comfortable staying. You can start out waiting for God to move and end up simply… not going anywhere.
    The inside can start to feel like the destination rather than the preparation. And the Spirit, in His characteristic style, doesn’t send a gentle memo suggesting it might be time to go. He sends wind and fire.

    The Wind, Fire, and Tongues

    (Acts 2:2–4)
    The upper room explodes when the Holy Spirit makes His entrance. Look at verses 2-4.
    Acts 2:2–4 CSB
    2 Suddenly a sound like that of a violent rushing wind came from heaven, and it filled the whole house where they were staying. 3 They saw tongues like flames of fire that separated and rested on each one of them. 4 Then they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in different tongues, as the Spirit enabled them.
    You want to talk about an epic entrance, we couldn’t even dream up that kind of entrance. Wind, fire, and tongues. Three signs, and each one is doing theological work. None of them are accidental.
    The wind comes first. The Greek word translated wind, means a tornado like violent wind. But, it’s also the word for spirit and the word for breath. You see, Luke isn’t just describing some meteorological phenomenon.
    He’s telling you that the breath of God is moving through this room the way it moved over the face of the waters in Genesis 1, the way it moved through the valley of dry bones in Ezekiel 37.
    This isn’t some anomaly. This is God doing what God does. Bringing life where there was stillness, movement where there was stagnation, breath where there was silence. The wind that fills the house is the same wind that has been filling God’s creation with life since the very beginning.
    Then comes the fire. Tongues of flame that separated and rested on each one of them. Not on the room, not on some central figure, but distributed, individually, and personally. Every person in that room received a tongue of fire.
    The fire of God’s presence in the OT, until that day at Pentecost, was terrifying and unapproachable. It was reserved for Moses and the high priests. And even then only on specific days in specific places.
    That fire is now resting on fishermen, women, even the brother of Jesus who spent most of the Gospels not believing in Him. The democratization of divine presence, is one of the most radical things in the New Testament. And here, it’s distributed, one flame each for 120 faithfully obedient disciples.
    The one flame, separating to rest on each individual believer, shows one Holy Spirit, divided to reside individually, in every believer. And the Prophet Joel saw it coming.
    He wrote this, seven hundred years before Pentecost:
    Joel 2:28–29 CSB
    28 After this I will pour out my Spirit on all humanity; then your sons and your daughters will prophesy, your old men will have dreams, and your young men will see visions. 29 I will even pour out my Spirit on the male and female slaves in those days.
    All of humanity. Sons and daughters. Old and young. Male and female slaves. Joel is describing a world in which the Holy Spirit observes none of the social hierarchies that we, human beings, construct. Hierarchies that determine whose voice matters and whose doesn’t.
    Gender, age, social status, you name. The Spirit ignores the organizational charts and societal norms entirely. This was always God’s plan. Pentecost is not an improvisation. It’s a seven-hundred-year-old promise arriving right on schedule.
    Then the languages. This is the sign that most directly answers the question of what the Spirit is waking the disciples up to. They begin speaking in languages they have never learned.
    You see, the crowd outside, Jews from across the Roman world, represent every language under heaven. They all would know the common Aramaic language spoken in Jerusalem.
    And this is important, because each hears the mighty works of God in their language of origin. Not in the official language of the empire. Not in the language of the temple establishment.
    In the original language they represent. The Spirit’s first public act on the church’s birthday is to speak to every person in the most intimate language available, the one they heard from their mother. The Spirit is awake to the world. And now, through the disciples, the world is going to hear it.

    The Crowd’s Question and Peter’s Answer

    (Acts 2:5–21)
    The noise draws a crowd. A violent wind and 120 people, in one place, simultaneously speaking in foreign languages, in a crowded city? Yeah, I think that would draw a crowd. Verse 6 says,
    Acts 2:6 CSB
    6 When this sound occurred, a crowd came together and was confused because each one heard them speaking in his own language.
    Verse 12 gives us most of the crowd’s, wonderfully honest response,
    Acts 2:12 CSB
    12 They were all astounded and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?”
    And then, verse 13, the some, the doubters that weren’t asking theological questions like “what does this mean?”
    Acts 2:13 CSB
    13 But some sneered and said, “They’re drunk on new wine.”
    And there it is again. The second time we have seen a profound spiritual encounter mistaken for intoxication. 2 weeks ago it was Eli accusing Hannah of being drunk in the temple. This week, it’s 120 disciples at Pentecost.
    There appears to be a pattern here. Genuine, undeniable moves of the Holy Spirit look, to the outside observer, like people who have drank too much. They’re doing things that polite, well-managed religion doesn’t normally do.
    If our spiritual experience is never misread, as enthusiasm bordering on excess, it may be worth asking if the Spirit is actually moving us.
    Peter stands up. And we need to pause here a moment, because the last time we saw Peter in public, he was denying that he even knew Jesus. Three times!!
    By the church calendar that would have been seven weeks ago. Peter’s most recent public performance was a catastrophic failure of courage. And now he stands up in front of thousands of people, in the same city where that failure happened, and begins to preach.
    What changed? The same thing that always changes when a person moves from hiding to boldness, from sleeping to awake, the Spirit came. Peter doesn’t get credit for mustering courage he didn’t have.
    He receives credit for standing up when the wind had already moved into the room. Which, by the way, is the only kind of courage any of us actually have.
    Peter quotes Joel at length, and in doing so, he makes an extraordinary claim. He says: “This is what was spoken through the prophet Joel.” Not “This is reminiscent of.” Not “This is similar to.” Peter says, this is the moment Joel was talking about.
    A seven-hundred-year-old promise has arrived. The last days have begun. The Spirit has been poured out on all flesh. What you are seeing in this street is the fulfillment of Scripture. And the invitation is open to everyone who calls on the name of the Lord.
    Peter, who couldn’t stay awake for one hour in the garden, is now wide awake to the world. The disciples, who were hiding behind locked doors on Easter Sunday, are now standing in the streets of Jerusalem declaring the Resurrection to thousands. The wind came. The fire rested. The languages flew. And a sleeping church woke up.

    What Pentecost Means for Us Today

    So what does that mean for us today? Pentecost is not merely a historical event to be admired. It is a present reality to be experienced. Jesus said in,
    John 14:16–17 CSB
    16 And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor to be with you forever. 17 He is the Spirit of truth.
    Another Counselor. The Greek word translated “counselor,means, one called alongside, an advocate, a helper. And Jesus says he will be with you forever. Not for fifty days. Not just for the apostolic era. But, forever.
    The same fiery Spirit that blew through that upper room in Jerusalem is present in this room right now. The wind hasn’t died down. The fire hasn’t gone out. The question is simply whether we are awake enough to notice it and willing enough to let it move us.
    Paul bluntly puts it this way in
    Romans 8:11 CSB
    11 And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead lives in you, then he who raised Christ from the dead will also bring your mortal bodies to life through his Spirit who lives in you.
    The Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead lives in us. That’s not a modest claim. That’s an extraordinary sentence, that describes the ordinary life of every believer. The resurrection power of God isn’t archived in a first-century event.
    It’s resident in the person sitting in a pew, driving the car, raising children, carrying grief. The same Spirit. The same power. The question is whether we’re awake enough to sense it or not.
    Here’s where Series Two begins to build its case. In Series One, we established that we need to be awake. We traced the cost of drowsiness through Gethsemane, the disciples behind locked doors, the boy Samuel who needed three attempts to recognize God’s voice, and the women who watched and waited for years.
    All of that was interior, the formation of a watchful soul. A soul sensitively aware of the Spirit. Now the Spirit blows that soul outward. Because we can’t be awake to God and simultaneously indifferent to the world God loves.
    The Spirit that fills us, is the same Spirit that moved over the face of the deep and spoke the world into being. He has never been content to stay inside.
    So what does this mean practically?
    Let’s look at three things, we can draw directly from this Pentecost text.

    First: The Spirit wakes us up to speak what others need to hear.

    The languages of Pentecost aren’t random. They’re targeted. Every person in that crowd heard their own language. The Spirit’s first act is a radically specific, personal communication.
    He doesn’t broadcast a general signal and hope someone tunes in. He finds the frequency of each person’s mother tongue and speaks directly into it. To be awake to the world in the Spirit’s way, means learning to speak to the person in front of us in a language they actually understand. Not the language that’s comfortable for us, but the one that reaches them.

    Second: The Spirit wakes us up to people the institution has overlooked.

    Joel’s list is deliberate, sons and daughters, old and young, male and female slaves. The Spirit ignores every boundary that religious institutions draw around who gets to participate, who gets to prophesy, who gets to be taken seriously and so on.
    A church that’s genuinely awake to the Spirit will regularly find itself paying attention to people that the institutes of religion has learned to overlook. If everyone in our circle looks exactly like us, speaks exactly like us, and comes from exactly where we come from, the Spirit may be trying to move us somewhere we haven’t been yet.

    Third: The Spirit moves us from inside to outside.

    The disciples weren’t wrong to be in the upper room praying. They were waiting as instructed. But the upper room was never the destination. It was the preparation.
    A church that is genuinely filled with the Spirit doesn’t become more inwardly focused over time. It becomes less so. The wind always blows out, fire always spreads.
    The languages always find new ears. A church that’s only talking to itself in its own language, about its own concerns, needs to open a window and check if the wind is still blowing.
    Conclusion: The Alarm Is Still Ringing
    We began the Stay Awake Theme the week after Easter Sunday by asking whether we had slept through the Resurrection. Today, 42 days later on the church’s calendar, we ask the follow-up question,
    Are we going to sleep through Pentecost?
    Because here’s the thing about Pentecost. We tend treat it as a historical event to be commemorated, rather than a present day reality to be experienced.
    The Spirit didn’t come and then leave. He came and stayed. Jesus said forever. Paul said he lives in us. The wind that blew through that upper room is still moving. The fire that rested on those first 120 disciples is still burning.
    The question isn’t whether the Spirit is present. The question is whether we’re awake enough to notice, and willing enough to be moved.
    Peter stood up. That’s all he did. He stood up in the room where the wind was blowing, opened his mouth, and let the Spirit do what the Spirit does. Three thousand people were added to the church that day.
    Not because Peter was gifted, not because the sermon was flawless, although it was bold. But because the Spirit had come. Now the person who had previously been too afraid to admit he knew Jesus was now too awake to be quiet about it or to let fear stop him.
    We have the same Spirit. The same power. The same world that still needs to hear.
    The alarm is still ringing. Pentecost isn’t over.
    Wind and fire, the Holy Spirit, wakes us up. And the world is what He wakes us up to.
    So here’s our application. Wherever we are, at work, at home, in an impromptu conversation we didn’t plan, or even in a moment that catches us off guard.
    Stay awake to the wind. Notice when the Spirit is moving. Notice who is in front of us and what language they actually need to hear. And when the moment comes, stand up.
      • Acts 2:1ESV

      • Acts 1:4ESV

      • Acts 2:2–4ESV

      • Joel 2:28–29ESV

      • Acts 2:6ESV

      • Acts 2:12ESV

      • Acts 2:13ESV

      • John 14:16–17ESV

      • Romans 8:11ESV