So, I promised to write something about the feast of Pentecost for my Thursday column this week, and then Tobias Petrus anticipated me by writing something in a similar vein. (I had not planned to talk about alcohol, but I am planning to say something about new covenants.) One can hardly say enough about this magnificent feast, however, so I will soldier on with only minor modifications from my original plan.

Novus parishes, when they take any serious notice of Pentecost at all, tend to make it into a kind of giant Multicultural Day. They collect together anyone who can speak any obscure language (Uzbek, anyone?) and have them contribute something; in some cases strange costumes may even be involved. To traditionalists this probably comes across as a bit of a circus. However, there’s a significant sense in which these Novus parishes have it right, though perhaps they themselves don’t always fully internalize the significance of Catholic Multicultural Day.

When the Apostles began speaking in tongues on the Day of Pentecost, the people gathered around them and were amazed. Jerusalem seems to have attracted a wide variety of different people, because Scripture offers a long list of different folk who were there, and who marveled to hear their own languages spoken by the men of Galilee. But was the multilingual display the only source of amazement? Perhaps Tobias Petrus is right that there were literally tongues of flame dancing over the heads of the Blessed Mother and Apostles, and if so that would also be eye-catching to say the least. But might there not have been some who were filled with awe, not only because it was such a remarkable spectacle, but also because they understood what was going on? For the Gentiles, this was an exciting day indeed, and it may be that just a few of them realized its significance.

Jesus was born of a Jewish woman, and he lived his life among the Jews. He constantly gave warning through his teachings that a new era was at hand, but in his own lifetime, he still called the Jews his people, and ministered to them. The Samaritan woman at the well (John 4), and the Syrophoenician woman (Mark 7 or Matthew 15) are the exceptions that prove the rule. The Jews were his people, and others were outsiders, not entitled to the same attention. The Syrophoenician woman’s requested miracle is granted, but only after she willingly accepts her status as one of the “dogs” who, in her words, “lick the crumbs from under the Master’s table.” Given Jesus’ response to her, it seems fair to view these dogs as valued pets and not mangy nuisances. Nonetheless, it seems clear that they are a kind of second-class citizen with respect to Jesus, and even the woman’s very great faith does not change that status.

Let me emphasize this one more time just to make sure the point is clear. Believing in and trusting Jesus is not enough to make this woman a daughter of the covenant. During Jesus’ lifetime, and presumably before as well, the Jews alone are invited to be the “children” of whom Jesus speaks.

So when Our Lady and the Apostles began speaking in tongues, it may be that a few of the people in Jerusalem saw it and realized that the day had finally come when the doors were open to them. No more would the Jews alone be the chosen ones. The Gentiles, too, could be children of God.

Of course, understanding the significance of that requires accepting the converse: before that day, the Gentiles were truly dogs, as are, it would seem those who stand outside the coventant today. So, except for those of us with Jewish ancestry, this week is a time for rejoicing that the Gospel has been made available not just to a select few, but to the whole world.