After that, I will pour out My spirit on all flesh;
Your sons and daughters shall prophesy;
Your old men shall dream dreams,
And your young men shall see visions.
The most powerful question in biblical interpretation is, Why are you telling me this? It’s the most basic question we should address to the author we think stands behind a passage from Scripture Why did this seem important enough to pass on? What message do you want me to read from it? How do you want me to act on it? What mistakes in life or doctrine do you want to guard me from?
Why are you, the author, telling me this? Time and again, we see characters in the New Testament turning back to the Old, and asking the same question about one passage after another: why was it so important, to someone living long ago, to pass this message on? And of course, in their new context, with the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ fresh in their minds, they answered this question by saying, because beneath whatever they seem to be saying on the surface, they were really talking about the things we have seen happening now. The New Testament writers had the sense that in the events of the life of Jesus, above all his death and resurrection, the Scriptures were coming to life in a way neither they nor anyone else had ever experienced before, and they had an overwhelming desire to communicate these new insights. The time was fulfilled, and the kingdom was near at hand.
There are many prophecies in the Old Testament concerning the Day of the Lord. This passage, from Joel 3, is among the best known, because Peter quotes it in what is arguably the first sermon preached in the history of the Church, on the day of Pentecost. Why does Peter quote Joel to the Jewish bystanders in this scene? Better yet, why does Luke, who we assume to be the author of the Book of Acts, choose to tell us this story?
Peter quotes Joel to answer the most basic, the most urgent question the Jews in this scene are asking: “Are these men drunk?” – which illustrates an important point, namely that, no matter how much human beings and human society have changed in the last two millennia, the compulsion to discount the supernatural and look for humdrum explanations has always been there. We sceptical moderns did not invent it.
Peter therefore makes a bold pronouncement, to remind these bystanders who they are (faithful, believing Jews), where they are (Jerusalem, the royal city of David, the point where all things began, and the epicentre of divine activity), and what time this is (not just a historic moment, but a never-to-be-repeated time of revelation, a decisive turning point in human history). The question they should be asking as God’s people, at that time, in that place, is, what is God doing here, now, for us, and for the world? The answer to these questions can be found only in the Bible, nowhere else – which at that time means, in the Hebrew Scriptures, what we call the Old Testament.
Peter quotes Scripture to show that these events are indeed a revelation of God: this is what was spoken of through the prophet Joel. The Scriptures are being fulfilled, the kingdom has come near, and now is the time to turn again to God – not as individuals who would dearly love to be able to speak in tongues and be the envy of their friends, but as members of God’s people, the elect chosen to proclaim his divine purpose to the world.
Why Joel? Why these verses? Simply because what they say about the Spirit is key to understanding what has just happened. The Spirit is spoken of many times in the Hebrew Bible, beginning in the first lines of Genesis, where the Spirit moves on the face of the deep. Thereafter the Spirit is spoken of in many ways: the Spirit of God is wisdom, the reward for disciplined effort and study. It is a talent for works of craftsmanship. It is a gift or presence given to individual human beings so that they can lead God’s people in times of emergency, speak God’s word of warning when his people fall away, or proclaim a message of hope to the entire world. So why Joel? Why these verses? Firstly, because the message they contain is a universal message: It will come about after this That I will pour out My Spirit on all mankind – not just the blood descendants of Abraham. And secondly, because this outpouring will happen at a time when the Day of the Lord is near.
What about this pouring out, specifically? The Old Testament speaks of the giving of the Spirit (or spiritual gifts) in many different ways, not just pouring. People are endowed with the Spirit (the craftsman Bezalel, Exodus 31.3, implying a lifelong gift). The Spirit comes upon them (Balaam in Numbers 24.2) descends upon them (Othniel, Caleb’s younger brother, in Judges 3.10), alights upon them (the Righteous Branch in Isaiah 11.2), or falls upon them (Ezekiel 11.5). It enters into them (but only in Ezekiel; 2.2 and 3.24). It is put upon them by God (the elders again in Numbers 11.25, the Servant in Isaiah 42.1; on all God’s people in Ezekiel 11.9 and 36.26-27). It rests upon them (the elders in Numbers 11.25), and grips them (Samson in Judges 14.6; David in 1Samuel 10.6 and 16.3).
Sometimes, the Spirit is poured out – but not that often. In Isaiah, the people wait Till a spirit from on high is poured out on us, And wilderness is transformed into farm land (Isa 32.15). Later (and perhaps this is the passage the prophet Joel had in mind), the LORD promises that even as I pour water on thirsty soil, And rain upon dry ground, So will I pour My spirit on your offspring, My blessing upon your posterity (Isa 44.3). Zechariah, another prophet from the time after the exile, uses the image of pouring in a passage John’s gospel quotes as a messianic prophecy: I will pour out a spirit of compassion and supplication on the house of David and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, so that, when they look on the one whom they have pierced, they shall mourn for him, as one mourns for an only child, and weep bitterly over him, as one weeps over a firstborn (Zec 12.10; see John 19.37). These are all important passages, but there are not many of them.
Other things in the Hebrew Bible are poured out much more often: the blood of sacrificial animals for example, as in this scene from Exodus, at the ordination of Aaron and his sons as the first priests: take some of the bull’s blood and put it on the horns of the altar with your finger; then pour out the rest of the blood at the base of the altar (Exo 29.12). This instruction is repeated several times in directions for related rituals. The murderous letting of blood (Gen 9.6, 37.22; Lev 17.4) can only be cleansed by pouring out the blood of the murderer: blood pollutes the land, and the land can have no expiation for blood that is shed on it, except by the blood of him who shed it (Num 35.33).
In the prophets, the thing poured out most often, figuratively, is the fury of the LORD at his disobedient people. Ezekiel is particularly full of such passages: Very soon I will pour out My wrath upon you and spend My anger on you (Eze 7.8). The proper response to divine anger is tears of repentance, as in Lamentations: Pour out your heart like water In the presence of the Lord! (Lam 2.19).
Hannah, who will be the mother of Samuel, prays in this way to the LORD for the gift of a child. We hear her indignantly reject the accusation of the priest, Eli, who mistakes the passion of her prayer and believes she is drunk: I have drunk no wine or other strong drink, but I have been pouring out my heart to the Lord, praying to him for the gift of a child (1Sa 1.15). We have come full circle, back to the scene Luke depicts in Acts 2, with someone in the throes of deep spiritual experience being accused of drunkenness by someone who misinterprets what they are seeing – ironically someone who should be attuned to the things of God, but who prefers a mundane explanation.
Did Luke intend to remind us of Hannah, as well as Isaiah? It is really not possible to say. Like all other biblical writers, Luke carried most of the Scriptures in his head, not in his notebooks. The whole Bible is built on echoes and parallels, new writings basing themselves on older ones. Most echoes are conscious and deliberate, but some are a matter of habit and style, of choosing and re-using familiar words and images almost automatically. It is well recognised that Hannah’s song inspired the Magnificat in Luke’s gospel, Mary’s words of joy to her cousin Elizabeth, as they rejoice together over the children they are carrying (Luke 146-55).
Let’s again ask Luke the question we began with, Why are you telling me this? Why does he want to remind us of the prophets? Why does he want to ground these new and exciting events in Israel’s history, its Scriptures, and its religious traditions? The answer is, because the gospel of Jesus Christ is not something new, but the fulfilment of all that came before. In the events of first century Judea and Galilee, the plan and purposes of God were seen unfolding. We should expect to see the same thing today. Nothing that happens in the world is completely random, and we should train ourselves to look at things differently from people around us. The better we know our Bibles, the easier it is to see the signs of God at work.
The day of Pentecost was a special day, a foundational event for the church. The temptation is to say that nothing like it will ever happen again, until some far-off day we can only glimpse now. That is not much of a basis for purposeful Christian living. So instead, let’s open our eyes, and open our hearts. Let’s be like Hannah: let’s pour out our spirit in prayer to the Lord, and not let the world or anyone close to us pour cold water on what we see happen next.
Bible citations from the North American Standard Bible and JPS Tanakh translation. Image from piqsels.com