They chose a new Disciple the other day. The one who you won’t name had to be replaced. Matthias was chosen in the ancient way. Again there are Twelve, unified in prayer and spirit.
Peter suggested this happen. He was taking on a role of leadership and a strength of authority which grew as he studied the Scriptures, virtually nonstop, this past week.
He poured over them, talking with everyone about them, filling his mind with what was said. You studied with him, learning, feeling your mind and soul expand, knowing you experienced the fulfillment of many of the prophecies.
Not all of them. The kingdom was still not established. The Messiah had come and still you wait, you wait for what Jesus promised. As long as it takes you will wait.
During the day you study, and discuss, and go to the Temple with the others. Many of the followers have to work, and so it is during the afternoon and evening when the community gathers, praying and seeking wisdom from God.
You feel the desire to talk to others about what you have seen, though the courage to actually follow through never builds. The Jewish leaders have expressed their opinions on the story, the reality, of Jesus’ resurrection, and have already begun throwing men and women out of the synagogues for believing what Jesus said and did.
Those who follow Jesus have been effectively banished. It is likely the same awaits you once you return home, once everyone realizes you are one of ‘them’. And yet, the sacrifice is worth it. What is there to hold onto? You have experienced Truth, seen Light, sat and ate with one who conquered the foe all must bow before. There is no fear in death anymore.
But still, talking to others makes you nervous. What do you say? These are people who saw much of what you saw, people who have heard the stories already, and dismissed them. Some of them are even those who were in the crowd that terrible day seven weeks ago. When you go to the Temple, when you walk in the streets, you see those who called for Jesus’ crucifixion, going about life like nothing has happened since.
You see the Romans, the ones who took pleasure in killing and maiming.
So you don’t share. Some of the others, feeling more bold, have, only to be accused of blasphemy, and worse. No one listens. Those who are part, most of those who were there on the mountain last week, still continue to pray, to wait. Everyone else keeps their distance.
Peter and the others say that Jesus told everyone to wait, not to leave, not to go out and prove themselves, without his word, not until the time comes.
“When will we know the time?” Mary Magdalene asks. She is one of those who has tried to tell others, to no avail.
“We will know,” James, son of Zebedee, responds.
The same day that Matthias was raised into the ranks of the Twelve some surprise guests came into the city.
Mary, Jesus’ mother, along with his brothers made the journey from Galilee. All of them. They are quiet, humbled. Mary is excited, catching up with the people who she hasn’t seen in a while, spending time listening to the stories of her son. There is no doubt in her mind the stories are wonderfully true.
Others serve her, and try to take care of her needs. She doesn't let them, insisting on helping in the kitchen, in cleaning, in serving everyone else. Even at her age she is filled with a vibrant energy.
“It is what was promised, don’t you see,” she tells anyone who will listen.
His brothers join Peter, and you, and the others, in daily study, in daily prayer. They did not believe when Jesus was ministering, and must catch up. There is a fair measure of regret, of shame, for not believing.
“You believe now,” Peter tells them, “which is all that matters. We all have mistakes, we all revealed our lack of faith. Now, there is no time to look backwards, there is only tomorrow, there is only what lies ahead. We have been forgiven for all we have done, the sacrifice has been made, the one which does not have to be repeated. And the Sacrifice has overcome, come back to life. We too have come back to life.”
Today is Sunday. Fifty days ago you visited the tomb and found it empty. Ten days ago you watched Jesus rise into the heavens, and heard divine messengers tell you he went to be with God once more.
Ten days spent in prayer, in study, in waiting. It is exciting, and, to be honest, you are now eager to see something new.
There is no response to the prayers. You have seen too much to turn away, but there seems to be nothing yet to push you forward. There is only waiting, and praying.
The house is filled now, men and women, from all the classes. Beggars pray next to tax collectors, who pray next to zealots.
At three o’clock everyone gathers in the upper room, filling it up.
John begins to pray, his restless energy causing him to walk around as he talks.
“God in heaven, hear our prayers, listen to our words. May you give us wisdom, may you give us patience.”
He continues for another ten minutes. Then James, the brother of Jesus, begins to pray. His words are powerful, reflecting a life of holiness, a life of devotion now directed towards the brother he never believed in. Peter leads everyone in singing, in singing the Psalms of ascent.
“We are rising to heaven itself,” he replies when someone asks about his choice.
Others pray. Mary prays. Her words are filled with hope, with absolute assurance, with a faith which encourages your own.
Peace fills the room with her words, a sense of calm, of rightness. It is as though you can feel heaven itself open.
She ends with these words, “My soul still glorifies the Lord, and my Spirit rejoices in God my savior, for he has been mindful of his servants. From now on all generations will call us all blessed, for God has done mighty things in our midst – holy is his name.”
You feel your heart and soul lift, your mind is filled with thoughts of heaven, of a reality beyond your own. Time itself seems to fade away, you experience a love, a love strong and profound, feeling absolute peace with everything, with everyone.
The concerns, the fears, the doubts, disappear as the praying continues. Everyone seems caught up in this, faces are radiant. More singing, more prayer.
You felt a sense of completeness when you first met Jesus, a sense that all was right, everything was perfect. That feeling returns now, that exact feeling, and somehow more of it. Never before has your soul been so filled, so content, so restful. Everything, absolutely everything, you have yearned for, every desire, every hope, every prayer, every wish, all that your soul has cried out after is stilled, is answered in this moment. Nothing has changed and everything has changed, you are caught up in something, and it is a taste of heaven itself, of an eternity you never imagined.
Joy fills yours heart. Peace fills your entire being. You pray, and the words take on a sense of power you have never felt before, like you are in the throne room of heaven, talking to the king himself. And he listens, he listens, for he welcomes you, welcomes you as a friend.
A breeze blows, rustling your hair, you open your eyes wide. Filling the room is a light, not from the sun, from nowhere it seems, from everywhere. Joanna, the one who first saw Jesus, prays.
As she does so the room changes, as if for the first time it is coming into focus. What you have seen before has been blurry, hazy. Now it is clear, perfect.
The sound of rushing wind, the roar of a tempest, fills the room. The voices of those praying are drowned by this torrent. You feel power, you feel a life, a delight in life, fill you, expanding your soul, making you aware of everything all at once.
What seems to be small tongues of fire form, filling the room. They are directly above each person’s head, and the light radiates, the room becomes bright with their light, warm in their wonderful glow.
The sense of heaven expands within you, and you feel what it is to know God, to see God, to be filled with the power of heaven.
You begin to speak, the words pouring out, words you have never used in your life, and yet you understand what you are saying. They are foreign and familiar, as if all the languages had merged back together. They are words of praise, words of delight, words of joy, words of witness. You speak of what you have seen and what you know to be true, delightfully true.
The light grows in the room, everyone is filled with this ecstasy. It is not wild or uncontrolled. You are not lost in it, you are found in it. Never before in your life have you been so in control, and so free. It is not something which has taken over, it is like you, for the first time in your life, are experiencing exactly what it means to be you. You are fulfilled in this instant, fulfilled with all the others, filled with a life which expands you into being everything you were always meant to be.
Others have to hear, others have to taste of this, know what it is. Before you had the 
words of prophesy, the words of the past. Now you are experiencing what it is to be within a prophesy, to live within a reality which is both transcendent and more authentic, like everything has come into focus and come out of the shadows.
The breeze continues, the flames dance in its gentle wind. Voices ring out, everyone prays at once, but it is not a scene of confusion. The words, many in different languages, become a song, a chorus of praise and prayer, with a rhythm and harmony that no song has ever matched.
It is overwhelming. It is wonderful. For the first time you know what it is to be in heaven, and for the first time you know exactly what it means to be human.
Voices, including your own, raise in the spoken harmony, crescendoing together in wonderful praise, in wonderful blessings.
The force of the wind, of the fire, of the song, becomes too large for this room. The words of prayer continue, and you feel it is it perfectly right to go outside, to go into the streets.
Others feel the same. Peter is the first to leave the room, the wind rushing out the door when it is opened, the tongues of fire brightening with the fresh breeze. You follow him, still talking, quoting passages which you have not memorized, saying words which you never before knew.
In the streets people stop, they stare, they listen. You see them, you see them as they really are, in need of hearing Truth, in need of seeing as you see, of experiencing reality. They are in the shadows still.
These people murmur, complain. They do not see yet, they do not understand. They are lost, and they will soon be found. Just as you were. Just as you are, now and for all of eternity. God has heard the prayers, the Messiah has come, the Son has risen, and now the Spirit, the very Spirit of God, has filled you. Praise be to God, the savior of all humanity!
