Tag Pentecost

WHEN THE FIRE FALLS, THE CHURCH MUST RISE

Allen Frederick Leave a comment
A Pentecost Commissioning Word for a Church Built to Soar

The Vessel on the Launch Pad

There is something profoundly symbolic about a launch vehicle standing motionless on the pad. Artemis rises above everything around it, a towering testament to human ingenuity and purpose, a vessel engineered for the heavens and designed for the stars. Every line, every bolt, every system, and every panel speaks of intention. It was never meant to remain grounded. It was created to break the pull of gravity and ascend into realms the human body cannot reach on its own. Yet for all its brilliance and capability, Artemis remains motionless until the moment fire touches its core. Without fuel, without ignition, without the roar of combustion and the thrust of flame, it becomes nothing more than an impressive monument pointed toward the sky, longing for the place it was designed to inhabit.

This is the church before Pentecost.

Christ built His church with intention. He shaped it with purpose. He assembled it with precision. He redeemed a people not to remain earthbound but to rise into the life of the Spirit, to carry the message of the kingdom into every nation, and to walk in the authority He purchased with His own blood. Yet even after the resurrection, the disciples remained in the upper room, fully assembled but not yet activated, prepared but not yet propelled, called but not yet commissioned. They were like a vessel on the launch pad, looking upward but unable to rise.

The Ignition of Heaven

Then the fire fell.

Pentecost was not a quiet moment. It was not a gentle whisper or a symbolic gesture. It was the ignition sequence of the kingdom of God. Scripture describes a sound like a mighty rushing wind filling the entire house, followed by tongues of fire resting upon each believer. It was loud, visible, overwhelming, and unmistakably divine. The fire did not fall to warm them; it fell to launch them. It did not descend to create a memory; it descended to create movement. It did not come to decorate the upper room; it came to empty it.

“And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting.” (Acts 2:2)

“And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them.” (Acts 2:3)

“And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance.” (Acts 2:4)

The miracle of Pentecost was not only the fire but the hearing. Scripture says that every person present, from every nation under heaven, heard the message in their own language. This was not merely a linguistic phenomenon; it was a declaration that the gospel is for every heart, every walk, every level of faith, and every stage of the journey.

“Every man heard them speak in his own language.” (Acts 2:6)

The mature heard. The new believers heard. The skeptics heard. The religious heard. The broken heard. The nations heard. Pentecost was God’s way of saying that no one stands outside the reach of His voice. The fire that fell in the upper room became a message that spoke to the world.

Salvation Assembled the Vessel, but the Spirit Supplies the Fuel

Jesus came to save, but salvation was not the end of His mission. His death fulfilled the old covenant, His resurrection opened the new covenant, and Pentecost activated the covenant within His people. Salvation assembled the vessel, but the Spirit supplied the fuel. The cross redeemed us, but the fire empowers us. The resurrection lifted our eyes, but Pentecost lifts our lives.

“Ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me.” (Acts 1:8)

Jesus did not redeem a people to remain grounded. He redeemed a people to rise.

Eagles Are Born for Altitude

This is why the image of the eagle fits so perfectly. Scripture tells us that those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength and mount up with wings as eagles. Eagles are born for altitude. They are shaped for the wind. They rise on currents that other creatures fear. Chickens scratch in the dirt, content with the barnyard, bound to the ground by their own nature. But eagles ascend. They do not flap in panic; they soar in confidence. They do not scatter at shadows; they rise above them. They do not live by effort; they live by lift.

“They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles.” (Isaiah 40:31)

We were saved to soar like eagles, not scratch like chickens. We were redeemed to rise, not to remain. We were called to ascend, not to admire the sky from a distance. The Spirit was given not to decorate our faith but to elevate it. Pentecost is the wind beneath the wings of the church, the fire beneath the vessel, the power that transforms a gathered people into a sent people.

The Upper Room Was Never the Destination

The upper room was never meant to be the destination. It was the launch pad. The fire that fell was never meant to be contained. It was meant to be carried. The message that erupted in many tongues was never meant to remain in Jerusalem. It was meant to reach the nations. Pentecost is not a holiday to be observed but a commissioning to be obeyed. It is the moment the church found its voice, its courage, its purpose, and its power.

“Go ye therefore, and teach all nations.” (Matthew 28:19)

The modern church often resembles Artemis on the pad—beautiful, impressive, carefully constructed, and pointed toward the heavens, yet lacking the fire that sends it into its mission. We have structure without thrust, programs without propulsion, gatherings without ignition. But Pentecost reminds us that the church was never meant to remain stationary. It was designed to move, to rise, to carry the gospel into every corner of the earth with the same power that raised Jesus from the dead.

When the Fire Falls, the Church Must Rise

When the fire falls, the church must rise. When the Spirit moves, the people of God must respond. When the wind fills the room, the doors must open. Pentecost is the moment heaven touches earth so that earth can reach heaven. It is the divine spark that turns believers into witnesses, disciples into ambassadors, and a gathered crowd into a global movement.

We stand again at the foot of Pentecost, not as spectators but as vessels waiting for ignition. The fire that fell in the upper room still falls today. The wind that filled the house still blows. The Spirit who empowered the early church still empowers the church now. We were not saved to sit. We were saved to soar. We were not redeemed to remain grounded. We were redeemed to rise. We were not built to admire the sky. We were built to enter it.

May the fire fall again. May the wind blow again. May the church rise again. May the people of God step into the extraordinary life for which they were created, fueled by the Spirit, lifted by the wind, and launched by the fire of Pentecost.

WHAT IS SO ORDINARY ABOUT ORDINARY TIME?

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

A Season the Church Calls Ordinary

Across much of the Christian world, especially within reformed and liturgical traditions, the rhythm of worship is shaped by what is known as the common lectionary. This structured calendar divides the year into seasons—Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, and the long stretch that follows known as Ordinary Time. These seasons were intended to guide congregations through the life of Christ and the story of redemption in a predictable, orderly fashion, giving shape to the church’s worship and teaching throughout the year.

For many congregations, Easter stands as the pinnacle of this cycle. Sanctuaries fill, choirs swell, banners rise, and the church gathers in its greatest numbers to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Yet once Easter morning passes, the atmosphere shifts. The lilies are removed, the choir robes are stored, and the church quietly returns to its familiar routine. Though the weeks that follow are still technically part of Eastertide, the energy fades as congregations drift toward summer schedules and lighter commitments.

Then comes Pentecost Sunday—often acknowledged, sometimes noted, rarely emphasized—and immediately after it, the lectionary enters its longest season: Ordinary Time. The very name suggests a return to normalcy, a settling into the predictable, a season without urgency or intensity. It is the church’s way of saying, “The high moments have passed; now we resume our regular pace.”

But this assumption is precisely what must be challenged, because nothing about the life of the early church was ordinary, nothing about the age we live in is ordinary, and nothing about the risen Christ or the outpoured Spirit invites us into a season of spiritual neutrality. The lectionary may call it ordinary, but heaven does not.

The Church Returns to Routine, but Heaven Does Not

The modern church often treats Easter as a spiritual summit, a moment of heightened celebration followed by a gentle descent back into routine. Yet the early church knew nothing of this rhythm. For them, the resurrection was not an annual observance but a daily reality. Luke tells us, “And with great power gave the apostles witness of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus: and great grace was upon them all.” Acts 4:33. They did not commemorate the empty tomb; they lived in its power. They did not treat Easter as a holiday; they treated it as the beginning of a new creation.

The modern church celebrates the resurrection as an event. The early church lived the resurrection as a lifestyle.

Pentecost: Christmas and Easter Fully Realized

If Easter is the moment the church celebrates Christ’s victory, then Pentecost is the moment the church receives its purpose. In the life of the Living Church of God, Pentecost is not a footnote to Easter; it is the fulfillment of everything Christmas and Easter set in motion.

Christmas is God with us. “They shall call his name Emmanuel.” Isaiah 7:14.

Easter is God for us. “He is not here: for he is risen.” Matthew 28:6.

Pentecost is God in us. “I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.” John 14:18.

At Christmas, Christ came to dwell among humanity. At Easter, Christ conquered death for humanity. At Pentecost, Christ came to dwell within humanity.

Pentecost is not an appendix to Easter; it is the purpose of Easter. The resurrection was the victory; Pentecost was the transfer of power. The resurrection declared Jesus Lord; Pentecost made the church His body. The resurrection opened the tomb; Pentecost opened the heavens.

And yet, in the modern church, Pentecost is often treated as a liturgical afterthought. It is rarely celebrated with the same intensity or expectation as Easter, even though it is the day the church received its identity, its mission, and its power. Heaven, however, has never forgotten Pentecost. Heaven still burns with Pentecostal fire.

Man‑Made Religion Cannot Produce What Only Christ Can Give

The church’s drift into routine is not merely a scheduling issue; it is a spiritual condition. Man‑made religion, with its holidays, symbols, and ceremonies, often becomes devoid of real meaning because it excludes the truth found only in Christ. It offers rhythms without revelation, rituals without relationship, and celebrations without surrender. When Christ is not at the center, even the most sacred observances become hollow.

This is how symbols become idols. This is how holidays become substitutes for holiness. This is how a people who once knew the living God become a people who merely commemorate Him.

Christ did not come to establish a holiday in His honor; He came to establish a people who serve Him. He did not come to create a calendar; He came to create a kingdom. He did not come to inspire seasonal devotion; He came to ignite lifelong discipleship. He did not come to be remembered once a year; He came to be obeyed every day.

“Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people.” 1 Peter 2:9.

Christ shed His blood to create a people, not a program; a kingdom, not a calendar; a church, not a holiday.

The Early Church Walked in Power — The Modern Church Walks in Caution

When we look at the book of Acts, we see a church that healed the sick, raised the dead, cast out demons, opened blinded eyes, and confronted darkness wherever it appeared. Nothing about their lives was ordinary. Nothing about their gatherings was predictable. Nothing about their witness was safe. They lived in the power of the risen Christ, walked in the fire of the Holy Spirit, and carried the authority of the kingdom of God.

“And by the hands of the apostles were many signs and wonders wrought among the people.” Acts 5:12.

“These that have turned the world upside down are come hither also.” Acts 17:6.

But today, the modern church often turns a blind eye to sin, buries the dead instead of raising them, prays for the sick without expecting healing, tolerates darkness instead of confronting it, and avoids impact to avoid persecution. It chooses safety over surrender, comfort over calling, and predictability over power. The early church walked into cities and demons screamed; the modern church walks into cities and nothing notices.

The early church prayed and prison doors opened; the modern church prays and hopes the service ends on time. The early church preached and hearts were pierced; the modern church preaches and feelings are soothed. The early church lived in the fire of Pentecost; the modern church lives in the fog of “Ordinary Time.”

The Danger of Calling Anything Ordinary

The lectionary’s term “Ordinary Time” may be organizational, but spiritually it is dangerous. It trains the church to expect nothing unusual, nothing supernatural, nothing disruptive, nothing that would require surrender or obedience. Yet Scripture calls believers to the opposite posture.

“See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil.” Ephesians 5:15–16.

“And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep.” Romans 13:11.

There is no ordinary time for a Spirit‑filled church. There is no ordinary time in a shaking world. There is no ordinary time when the kingdom is advancing. There is no ordinary time when Christ dwells within His people.

The only thing ordinary is the faith we have settled for.

These Are Not Ordinary Days

Look at the world. Look at the nations. Look at the church. Look at the signs of the times. These are not ordinary days. These are prophetic days—days of shaking, days of sifting, days of awakening. The church is acting as though we live in ordinary times, but we do not. We have not lived in ordinary times since Christ rose from the dead. The resurrection ended ordinary. Pentecost ended predictable. The Spirit ended routine.

A Call to the Church Before Pentecost Arrives

Pentecost is approaching, and this is a timely word. The Spirit is calling the church to wake up, rise up, and step into the fire that birthed it. The Spirit is calling us to reject the predictable rhythms of Churchianity and embrace the unpredictable movement of God. The Spirit is calling us to remember that the same power that raised Jesus from the dead now dwells in us.

Christ now dwells with us and works to do His will among us—if we let Him.

Pentecost is not ordinary. Pentecost is not optional. Pentecost is not a footnote. Pentecost is the heartbeat of the church.

May the church awaken. May the fire fall again. May the people of God rise from the ashes of routine and step into the extraordinary days for which we were born.

Epistle to the Churches of This Age

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

To the assemblies scattered across cities and suburbs, grace to you. This extends across denominations and traditions. It reaches across sanctuaries filled with worshipers who bear the name of Christ yet often lack His life. Peace comes from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

A Call to Awakening

I write not to condemn you, but to awaken you. For many among you have received a form of godliness yet deny the power thereof. You have inherited the customs of your fathers. You have learned the doctrines of your teachers. You have followed the rhythms of your denominations. However, you have not discerned the one thing that marks the children of God: the indwelling Spirit.

For it is written, “Those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God.” (Romans 8:14) And again, “If anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Him.” (Romans 8:9) These words stand as a witness. They oppose every tradition that substitutes ritual for regeneration. Ceremony is not a replacement for union with Christ.

The Cross: The Place of Death, Not the Source of Life

You have been taught to look to the cross as the place of power. However, the cross is the place of death. It is holy, yes, for there the Lamb of God bore the sin of the world. But the cross does not indwell you. The cross does not breathe life into you. The cross does not lead you. The cross does not seal you. The cross is the altar where the old life ends, not the wellspring from which the new life flows.

The Water: A Symbol, Not the Substance

You have been taught to look to the water as the moment of new birth. Yet the water is but a sign. It testifies to burial and resurrection, but it does not impart the life it symbolizes. For the Lord Himself declared, “It is the Spirit who gives life.” (John 6:63) And again, “Unless one is born of the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.” (John 3:5) The water may wash the body, but only the Spirit washes the heart.

The Misplaced Celebrations of the Church

You have been taught to celebrate the seasons of Christ’s earthly life. His birth is celebrated with pageantry. His death is honored with solemnity. His resurrection is marked with lilies and trumpets. Yet you have neglected the day on which His life entered you. You have adorned your sanctuaries for Christmas but scarcely lifted your eyes for Pentecost. You have honored the manger where He lay. However, you have not honored the upper room where He came to dwell within His people.

Christ’s birth brought no forgiveness. His birth brought no indwelling. His birth brought no power. The incarnation is the miracle of God with us, but Pentecost is the miracle of God in us. And without the Spirit, you remain forgiven yet powerless, cleansed yet empty, religious yet unchanged.

The Spirit: The True Mark of Belonging

Do you not know that the Spirit is the seal of your salvation? It is the witness of your adoption. It is the life of Christ within you. Do you not know that apart from the Spirit, no one can say “Jesus is Lord” except as empty words? Do you not know that the Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God?

Why then do so many of you live as though the Christian life is a matter of doctrine alone? Or is it merely morality? Or solely tradition? Why do you cling to the cross yet resist the Spirit? Why do you honor the water yet ignore the fire? Why do you celebrate the birth of Christ yet neglect the birth of the Church?

I fear for you, beloved, that you have embraced a Christianity defined by your denomination rather than by the Scriptures. Many say, “We are Baptist.” Others declare, “We are Methodist,” or “We are Reformed.” Some claim, “We are Catholic,” or “We are non‑denominational.” Yet few say, “We are led by the Spirit of God.”

And yet this alone is the mark of the children of God.

Not your creed, tradition, baptism, church membership, your moral conduct, nor your theological precision.

The Question That Will Be Asked on That Day

For on that Day, when many will say, “Lord, Lord,” He will not ask for your denominational statement. He will not inquire about your church attendance. He will not review your religious résumé. He will ask one question alone: Did My Spirit dwell in you?

For those who are led by the Spirit of God—these, and only these, are the children of God.

The Final Exhortation

Therefore, I write to you with urgency: return to the foundation laid by Christ and His apostles. Do not stop at the cross, for the cross is the place of death. Do not stop at the water, for the water is the place of symbol. Press on to Pentecost, where the life of God enters the soul of man.

Let every church, therefore, examine itself. Let every pastor search his own heart. Let every believer ask, not “Do I know Christ?” but “Does Christ know me?” For He knows His own by the Spirit, He has given them.

And now I say to you plainly. I speak without hesitation or apology:
All churches should be Pentecostal — not by denomination, but by indwelling. They should not be Pentecostal by style, but by Spirit. They should not be characterized by emotionalism, but by the life‑changing dynamism of God Himself dwelling within His people.

Benediction

May the Lord awaken His Church to the fullness of His salvation. May the Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead dwell richly in you all.

Grace be with you in the Spirit

of our Lord Jesus Christ.