Pentecost and Stained Glass on May 24th, 2026
Above is audio of the sermon pulled from the video and amplified.
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The Stained Glass Windows: A Pentecost Reflection
We have a tradition that on Pentecost, we talk about the stained glass windows. Over the past three plus years, we've discussed them extensively because of the renovations. We wanted to change from looking at a wooden wall to the stained glass window of Christ. Today, we'll go through each window and talk about them in particular detail.
A Brief History of the Windows
These stained glass windows were not original to the building. When this building was constructed in 1967, it was the only space available. The room served as a multipurpose space for worship, fellowship, and all those kinds of activities. There were chairs in here, and all of the windows were just normal, boring glass windows—even the big one.
Through the years, they built the fellowship hall in 1977. When that space became available for fellowship activities, they decided to turn this room into more of a worshipful space. That's when pews came in, carpet came in, and the stained glass windows came in. So while most people probably think they are original to the building, they are not.
The Main Window: Christ
The most prominent and perfect window is the big one—30 feet tall. Long ago, people used to ask if that was St. Philip, but no, it's somebody a little more important. That is Jesus.
In this stained glass window of Christ, He is holding a shield. On the shield are the letters I.K.A. Nika—a Greek word that stands for victory. Think of the shoe brand Nike, which is based off of the same Greek word.
Down at the very bottom, which is a little bit hidden now because of the half wall, by Jesus' feet, there's actually an open book. On the left side, there are four red crosses. The open book and the four red crosses represent the Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. By His other foot is a lamp, reminding us that God's Word is light unto our path—a lamp to our feet—showing us that the scriptures enlighten us.
Up along the left hand side of that stained glass window, you see a white column. That is the pillar of scourging—what they would strap prisoners to in order to give them their 40 lashes minus one. That was what Jesus was tied to and whipped before his crucifixion, reminding us of Jesus' suffering.
Up along the right hand side, you see a green vine going from the bottom all the way to the tippy top. That reminds us of Jesus' words: "I am the vine, you are the branches." We are grafted into Christ and have our life through Him.
Then up at the tippy top, we have a cross and a crown, which is promise and hope for us.
Since the renovations, many of you who have come to a concert here know that at about four or five o'clock, when the sun is right over there, light just pours into this room. It is bright and glorious and shiny, and the colors are just a kaleidoscope in here. It is a great time of day to be in this space.
The Trinity Windows
We also have three windows over here—the Trinity windows representing Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
The Father Window
Up at the top, you have a red star of David, which reminds us of God of the Old Testament, God of Covenant, God for the Jewish people—all that God has done since creation and all those covenants that God has kept.
In the middle, you have a hand coming down with an eye behind it. This shows us that God gives everything and God sees everything.
Down at the bottom—and it is easier to see the farther away you are from it—are the words "I am who I am," from God's name revealed to Moses at the burning bush.
The Son Window
In the middle of this window, we have a lamb. Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. But the lamb does not stay slaughtered. The lamb is carrying a victory banner, showing that the Lamb of God is victorious.
At the bottom, we have a red Alpha, and behind it is an orange Omega. Jesus says, "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end."
The Holy Spirit Window
Up at the top, we have an open book—a Bible. God speaks to us through Scripture, and the Spirit comes, calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies this community through Scripture.
Then there is a descending dove, symbolizing the Holy Spirit, much like the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus at His baptism.
Interestingly, our baptismal font was crafted to mimic what these windows look like. The artist didn't just take pieces of color and throw them together. They took the head of the dove—that circle there—and copied it to make a replica. So the baptismal font is actually the Holy Spirit dove descending, which is a great connection between the Holy Spirit and baptism. The Holy Spirit comes to us at that moment.
The Church Season Windows
There used to be some windows right here that are now out in the narthex. I'm creating some holy space there as we gather. Those windows were the church seasons: Advent and Christmas, followed by Epiphany, then Lent and Easter and Pentecost. After worship, if you're curious to see some of the symbols, I can walk you through them out there.
Pentecost and the Holy Spirit
The reason I started doing this whole stained glass thing on Pentecost is because it is such a weird day for us Lutherans. We do not like talking about the Spirit all that much because we really aren't that much into speaking in tongues or charisma or anything out of the ordinary. We shy away from the Spirit because we don't like all the crazy signs we think of when we hear "Holy Spirit"—violent wind, tongues, fire, speaking in different languages.
For sure, Pentecost in Acts 2 is a dramatic, once-and-for-all event. It was the founding of the church. The disciples needed that type of dramatic event for a specific historical moment. Good for them, but not very comfortable for us. It makes us nervous.
Because Pentecost is a hard day for Lutherans, we are either glad the Spirit doesn't show up with all that chaos, or we forget that the Spirit is present at all because we don't have fire, wind, or multilingual services.
The Spirit's Quiet Work
But here is where the breadth of Scripture can be helpful. Even Philippians 4, which doesn't mention the Spirit specifically, shows us what the Spirit does—especially in non-chaotic ways.
"The Lord is near." It doesn't have to be violent winds or flame throwers. The Lord, the Spirit is near. And because God is near, the Spirit is continuously at work among us, bringing joy, prompting prayer, and bringing peace that surpasses all understanding.
Pentecost isn't just a historical moment that we celebrate but an ongoing reality for us. The Spirit doesn't just show up once; the Spirit continues to be present in the life of the Church. When we expect the Spirit only to be around in those explosive moments, we tend to miss the quieter miracles that happen around us every day.
The Spirit is present when someone forgives. When someone comforts. When someone keeps showing up. When someone chooses compassion over cruelty. When someone prays, even if it's only with sighs too deep for words. When someone continues to trust God in the middle of grief, uncertainty, or fear.
Communion and baptism are Spirit-filled moments, but they are far from flashy. They use ordinary things—bread, wine, water—to forgive, to nourish, to call us to new life. The Spirit is at work.
The spectacular story of Acts 2 is what gets the press, but the sustained daily work of the Spirit in gentleness and forgiveness, comfort and joy, persistence and prayer, compassion and peace—that is actually what transforms a life and a community. That is what Pentecost is all about.
The Lord is Near
The Lord is near because God chooses to be near to us. That is the story of Scripture from beginning to end: from God breathing Spirit into the dirt, to the Spirit inspiring prophets, to Pentecost, to now. God continually moves near.
Take a moment to look back at the stained glass. I think it is the perfect image for the Spirit at work in our lives. It is not neon. It is not flashy, not explosive or blustery. But it is there. It is always there, whether we are actively noticing it or not. It is the steady, quiet, solid presence of God.
Sometimes when the light hits it, when you actually notice it, something shifts. You see color and beauty. You are drawn to it. Something about it points you to God. You feel something—a sense of wonder, a sense that you are standing in the presence of something sacred.
The Spirit is like that. Always there, steady. Yet when we notice—when we see the forgiveness, the comfort, the courage, the peace—then we realize the Lord is near. The Spirit is near.
May God's Spirit move among you in ways that comfort and surprise. May God be near in ways that cause you to rejoice and to give thanks. May the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Amen.