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Acts 2:2. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.
I had seen strong, but never violent winds, until Hurricane Sandy.
I went outside during the storm and could barely walk against the force of it. When I got back to my door, a huge tree limb had fallen nearby. If I had been in the wrong place, I wouldn’t be writing about it now.
Many were not as lucky. Some suffered extreme loss. Many faced dropping temperatures and no heat as we headed into winter.
What amazed me about this violent wind that filled an entire city was the momentary glimpse of the Spirit it provided. People from many different backgrounds came together. Neighbors helped each other. Two days after the storm, on Halloween, I walked the three miles home from my office because the subways were not yet running. Trick-or-treaters were out with their parents. I stopped at a diner where a group of older women, having their normal Wednesday night out, were especially enjoying the children in costumes. People waited patiently for the buses that were in service.
Somehow, the possibilities for redemption seemed closer to me than they had before. It took a violent wind.
Today the Church remembers Joseph of Arimathea.