There was a young student in ministry who took a walk with Smith Wigglesworth. Smith was sporting a dashing new hat. He was a rather fancy dresser. They stopped on a bridge, leaning on the rail to discuss some point of scripture. The wind got hold of Smith’s hat and pitched it into the rapid waters. He had no immediate outcry. He turned to his young friend with a wry smile and said, “We’d best be getting back to the house. With all that lies before me over the next few days, I dare not catch cold.”
Calm. Prepared. Wise. Full of Bible. Full of Spirit-harvested compassion and power. This man’s legacy defies the usual impression of “Pentecostal”. So many have images of manifestation gone wild, of excitement, of raucous worship. That is not Pentecost. That is wishful thinking and flesh.
The calm of Galilee; the smile of the kindly Teacher-Healer-Messiah: the wonder of the Comforter from above come to indwell and to guide; the power-to-witness endorsement of the gift of tongues. That is Pentecost.