Welcome, dear reader!
For this long-awaited series, we’re going back to first-century Jerusalem, as we follow the story of one of the 3,000 souls converted on the day of Pentecost. This is going to be one deeply engrossing series, for sure! Let’s begin from the very start; the day it all began…
As the morning light spilled over onto the city of Jerusalem that bright and lovely day, nobody would have guessed that it would be a day where the lives of many people would be changed forever.
It started out as a regular day. Merchants were setting up their stalls in the marketplace, their voices rising in a familiar cacophony as they called out the prices of olives, figs, and freshly baked bread. Residents and pilgrims from faraway lands alike made their way through the busy crowd, heading to their various destinations.
In the Temple courts, the priests steadily prepared for the day’s rituals, their steady chants and prayers blending with the clinking of coins exchanged for sacrificial doves and lambs. In a nearby alley, a group of Roman soldiers lounged, their polished helmets reflecting the sun as they kept a watchful eye on the city’s activity.
Above it all, the conversations of ordinary people painted a picture of a typical day in the holy city. Farmers discussed the wheat harvest, children chased each other in playful games, and scholars debated the Law in shaded corners.
But not far from the commotion of the market square, in an upper room of a modest dwelling place, something extraordinary was about to unfold.
*
Inside, a group of men and women sat together in quiet prayer, their faces and hearts filled with anticipation and uncertainty. They had gathered together with one accord, as they had for days, waiting for something promised but not fully understood.
Suddenly, a sound like a violent wind filled the house, as though a storm had broken loose in that room while the rest of the city remained still.
Eyes wide, the gathered disciples looked at each other, wondering what this could be.
Before anyone could speak, flames appeared—tongues of fire that rested on each one of them.
In no time flat, their voices became a chorus of languages and dialects, all speaking of the magnificent works of God, as though the world itself had gathered in that one room to praise the Lord.
***
Wiping the sweat off his brow, Gedaliah nodded in satisfaction as he ran his hand along the stonework he had finished the day before. His fingers traced the smooth edges, noting how the mortar had settled perfectly between the blocks. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Excellent. It is good work,” he declared to himself. “Father will be most pleased.”
He stepped back, hands resting on his hips as he admired the structure. The proud son of a well-known mason, his father, Shiloh, had taught him the trade since he was a boy, and now here he was, completing structures on his own. The old man had definitely transferred his sharp eye for craftsmanship to him, and Gedaliah could already hear his approving grunt and picture the slight nod of respect he usually gave when a job was well done.
“A job well done,” he said to himself as he readied to gather his tools. “Now I must head home and see what Mother needs–“
Suddenly, a strange sound reached his ears.
He frowned and stopped.
They sounded like a multitude of voices. Loud voices.
Loud, layered, and unlike anything he had ever heard.
Words in a dozen different tongues, some familiar, some foreign. Gasps, exclamations, the murmuring of a growing crowd.
“What is that?” he muttered, glancing around. Other labourers nearby had also paused in their work, looking in the same direction. Merchants abandoned their attention to their stalls, heads turned in that direction.
A cloth seller near him frowned. “Something is happening.”
“I hear Parthian speech,” an old man leaning on a staff commented. “But who is speaking it?”
“I hear Egyptian speech, too!” another voice chimed in.
The streets, which had been flowing in their usual currents of commerce and routine, now turned like a tide toward the sound.
Gedaliah hesitated only a moment before curiosity took hold.
I must see what’s causing all this noise.
Gathering his tools quickly, he placed them in his tool bag and slung it over his shoulder before falling in step with the moving crowd. Excited chatter buzzed around him, as people speculated, questioned, and strained their ears to understand the words being spoken in the distance.
As they moved deeper into the city, the noise grew louder, the words clearer.
Gedaliah’s heartbeat quickened. He had never heard anything like this before.
And then, through the shifting crowd, he caught sight of the source.
Before a humble house, a group of men and women stood, their faces alight with something beyond explanation, speaking words not of their own tongues, yet with confidence and power.
Gedaliah paused, his eyes widening as he recognized some of the languages being spoken.
That’s Greek this man is speaking. And… is that not Parthian that other man speaks? Goodness me, I can even hear a bit of Latin there. And they are all about great things God has done.
“But-but… but, are not these people all from Galilee?” whispered a woman near Gedaliah, her voice tinged with a mix of wonder and confusion. “How then does each of us hear them in our own native language?”
Around him, others echoed similar sentiments. An Egyptian man, his face a mask of astonishment, exclaimed, “I hear them speaking in my language about the great deeds of the Creator!”
“They’re speaking about the wonders of God!” exclaimed a traveler from Cyrene.
“How can this be?” another murmured, his voice tinged with awe. “These are Galileans! They shouldn’t know our languages!”
Indeed, each person spoke in a different tongue, yet was understood by those who knew that language, and all spoke of the same thing: the marvelous works of God.
Gedaliah marveled at the sight. What could this be?
However, not everyone was swayed by the spectacle. A group of skeptics stood nearby, their faces twisted in disbelief. “Pay them no heed, people! They have had too much wine,” one scoffed loudly, his voice carrying over the murmur of the crowd. “They are just babblers, drunk out of their minds!”
Gedaliah watched as the crowd’s reaction split; some were moved to tears by the profound truth of the words, others dismissed the event as mere intoxication-induced nonsense, and others challenged those dismissing the event.
In a matter of seconds, the debate around him grew heated, the air thick with questions and accusations and rebuttals.
In the center of this newly cooked chaos, a man with a commanding presence stepped forward from the group, his voice cutting through the confusion:
“Men of Judea and all you dwell in Jerusalem! Heed my words!”
The debate ceased somewhat, as they turned to the man, whom many recognized as Peter. One of the men who followed the recently deceased teacher Jesus.
“Let it be known unto you all, that these ones are not drunk, as you suppose. It is only the third hour of the day! No, this is what was spoken by the prophet Joel: ‘In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people…’”
Gedaliah felt an unusual chill run down his spine. His skin prickled.
What is this?
Peter’s voice continued to ring out with clarity and authority, his words cutting through the murmurs of the crowd like a sharpened blade. His eyes burned with conviction as he observed the sea of faces, including that of Gedaliah.
“Fellow Israelites, listen to these words! Jesus of Nazareth was a man accredited by God to you by miracles, wonders, and signs, which God did among you through him, as you yourselves know.”
Gedaliah swallowed hard.
He did know. Everyone in Jerusalem knew.
He had heard the stories—how this Man Jesus had healed the blind, made the lame walk, even raised the dead. He had seen Him once in the Temple courts, surrounded by people hanging on His every word. Gedaliah had been curious but skeptical. He had thought Jesus was a great teacher, perhaps even a prophet, but nothing more.
Peter’s voice rose again, strong and unwavering.
“This man was handed over to you by God’s deliberate plan and foreknowledge; and you, with the help of wicked men, put him to death by nailing him to the cross.”
A ripple of unease spread through the crowd. Gedaliah felt it like a sharp jab to his chest.
We… we put him to death?
The crucifixion of Jesus had been one unforgettable spectacle—brutal, horrifying, and impossible to ignore. The whole city had spoken of it, some with scorn, others with sorrow. Gedaliah had watched from a distance, not knowing what to feel.
The so-called Messiah, hanging there like a common criminal, his body beaten and torn.
Peter was not finished.
“But God raised Him from the dead, freeing Him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on Him!”
A collective gasp spread through the people. Gedaliah felt as though the ground beneath him had shifted. He had heard whispers that Jesus’ tomb had been found empty, that His disciples claimed He was alive—but rumors were easy to dismiss. Now, as Peter spoke with such certainty, the truth of it struck Gedaliah with terrifying force.
It has to be true… He was no ordinary teacher.
Peter continued, quoting the Psalms, declaring that David himself had prophesied about the resurrection of the Messiah. Then, with a voice full of unshakable conviction, he declared:
“Therefore let all Israel be assured of this: God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Messiah.”
Gedaliah’s breath caught in his chest. His fingers clenched around the strap of his tool bag. Around him, murmurs turned into cries of distress. The weight of Peter’s words settled on them all like a great burden pressing upon their souls.
The Messiah… the Messiah…
He had grown up hearing of the coming of the Anointed One, the One who would redeem Israel. Could it be? Could they—he—have been blind to the truth? Had they rejected the very One they had been waiting for?
His heart pounded. Shame and sorrow twisted within him.
If Jesus truly was the Messiah, then they had done the unthinkable.
A man nearby spoke aloud what Gedaliah could barely put into words. His voice trembled as he cried out to Peter and the other apostles.
“Brothers, what shall we do?”
The plea was echoed throughout the crowd. A desperation had gripped them. They had crucified the very One sent to save them. Was there any hope left?
Peter, seeing the anguish in their faces, did not hesitate. His voice rang with both urgency and mercy. “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.”
Gedaliah felt his heart leap at this announcement.
This was his moment. He could not remain as he was, after hearing this soul-searing sermon. He could not go back to his normal life, as if today had not happened.
His soul burned with conviction. He needed this forgiveness. He needed this Jesus.
Turning to a nearby apostle, he stepped forward, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. “I want to be baptized.”
He was not alone. Hundreds—thousands—moved with him, ready to lay down their old lives and embrace this truth.
Today was the day of salvation.
***
The waters rippled as Gedaliah stepped in, his heart pounding. All around him, others waded forward, their faces alight with both solemnity and anticipation. The apostles and other disciples stood ready, guiding them, their voices steady with reassurance.
The moment had come.
Gedaliah took a deep breath as strong hands lowered him beneath the water. The world above muffled into silence.
Then—
He was lifted up.
The cool air met his face as water streaming down, and in that moment, an overwhelming joy surged through his soul.
It was unlike anything he had ever known. A lightness, a cleansing…
… a freedom.
He gasped, then laughed, the sound bubbling up unrestrained. Around him, others were weeping, rejoicing, lifting their hands to the heavens after being lifted out of the water.
They could all feel the same joy. The weight of their guilt was gone. Their sins— doubts, blindness, rebellion, and the consequences for them…
… all gone.
As Gedaliah stepped back onto the shore, assisted by one of the other disciples, his heart swelled with gratitude. He had entered the water one man and emerged another.
Today, he had been made new.
And his life was never going to be the same again.
Awesome! The beginning of the early church. This will be an exciting journey for sure…
