05/20/2026
From Bishop Héctor A Burgos-Núñez
When I was in my late teens, I joined the praise team at my local church. Every Sunday before worship, our pastor gathered all who were helping lead the service and prayed over us. His words changed from week to week, but one sentence never did:
“God, we are in the upper room, and we have an expectation that You will show up and bless us in ways only You can.”
That proclamation shaped my discipleship and my understanding of servant leadership. It still rises in my spirit whenever I come before God and go about my ministry, reminding me that discipleship and ministry are never about our strength, but about God’s faithful presence breaking in among us.
As we approach Pentecost, I invite all of us—laity and clergy—to return to that upper room posture. Acts tell us that on the day of Pentecost, the disciples were not strategizing or troubleshooting. They were waiting, expecting, and trusting that Jesus meant what he said: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you.”
They waited—together—longing for God to do what only God can do. And then it happened. Not because they earned it or planned it, but because the Holy Spirit is freely given. The Spirit came like wind, like fire, like holy disruption—and the Church was born.
I wonder if, under the weight of our responsibilities and the exhaustion of living and leading through division, polarization, and uncertainty, we have quietly stopped waiting for the Spirit like that. Stopped expecting the Spirit to show up with power. Stopped believing that God might still break in with wind and fire in our own ministries and communities.
We remember and preach Pentecost every year, but do we still live Pentecost?
The vision statement of The United Methodist Church names our identity clearly: We are a Spirit-filled, Spirit-led, and Spirit-empowered Church.
Romans 5:5 reminds us that this hope is not wishful thinking: “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” Given—not withheld. Given—not only to the early Church, but to the Church today. To you. To me. To every congregation we steward.
Life, discipleship, ministry, and servant leadership are not easy. But the Spirit is not absent in the struggle. The Spirit meets us there—breathing hope into dry places and rekindling flame where only embers remain.
So today, I ask us—disciple to disciples, pastor to pastors, bishop to the beloved people of God: Have we stopped waiting for the Spirit? Have we stopped expecting God to move in power?
Pentecost is not a memory. Pentecost is a promise. And the Spirit who ignited the early Church is still moving among us, still sending us, still empowering us for the work ahead—if we welcome it.
My prayer for us this Pentecost is simple: That we would recover a Pentecost posture— a posture of expectation, surrender, and openness.
Because the Spirit is still freely given. And the Church is still being sent. And God is not finished with us—not by a long shot.
May we live our discipleship, lead, preach, teach, serve, and love with the bold conviction that the same Spirit who filled that upper room is breathing life into us today. And may we live with the expectation that God will show up and do what only God can do. Come, Holy Spirit! 🕊️🔥
Together in the journey!
+HĂ©ctor
