– Pastor Lucas Biggerstaff preached at St. Mark UMC — Knoxville, Tennessee

The preacher stood laughing
beneath bright Pentecost banners
and opened worship with Billy Joel:

“We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

And the congregation smiled—
some tapping their feet,
some remembering younger days,
old radios, old roads, old dances,
old fires still glowing through memory.

But soon another Fire entered the room.

Not the fire of headlines.
Not the fire of war.
Not the fire of fear consuming nations.

But the joyful Fire
of the Holy Spirit.

The Fire of the upper room.

The Fire resting upon trembling disciples
until trembling became singing.

And suddenly
the sanctuary itself seemed alive
with remembrance.

February 1956.

Seventy-one faithful souls
gathered inside Rocky Hill Elementary School.

No grand sanctuary yet.
No polished organ pipes.
No stained glass shining at sunrise.

Only folding chairs.
Simple hymns.
Coffee in humble cups.
Hands folded in prayer.

And joy.

Holy joy.

The kind that appears
when people trust God
before seeing the future.

Then came Northshore Drive.

Mud beneath shoes.
Dreams beneath prayers.

A little congregation
standing upon open ground,
already seeing what did not yet exist.

Rev. John McDonald arrived
with the hopeful footsteps
of a young shepherd.

And year after year,
the Spirit kept building.

Classrooms filled with children’s laughter.
Choirs lifting hymns toward heaven.
Youth running through hallways.
Covered dishes steaming in fellowship halls.
Christmas candles glowing softly in winter darkness.

Then October 1964—

the dedication of the sanctuary.

Voices rose like living flame
into freshly built rafters.

And the people rejoiced.

Because the building was never only brick.

It was love becoming visible.

The years continued singing forward.

The Robert Whorley Fellowship Hall.
The Simpson Library.
New land widening the ministry.
The parsonage purchased with faith.
Mortgages paid off at last—

hallelujahs rising quietly
through grateful tears.

Fifty years passed.

Then sixty.

And still the Spirit danced among the people.

Babies baptized.
Couples married.
Saints buried into resurrection hope.
Choirs singing through Easter mornings.
Children becoming parents.
Parents becoming beloved memory.

And still
the Fire moved onward.

Pastor Sam Ward
carrying flame toward Brainard.

Home Grown Pastor Lucas Biggerstaff
bringing joyful fire to Dunlap.

And now
Pastor Misti McCreary
arriving at St. Mark
with fresh wind in her hands.

Not replacing the flame—
but rejoicing within it.

For Pentecost fire
does not belong to one generation.

It is shared.

Passed hand to hand,
heart to heart,
song to song.

The Spirit still burns brightly
through ordinary people—

through greeters at the doors,
through choir members singing with shining eyes,
through Sunday school teachers holding tiny Bibles,
through elders whispering faithful prayers before dawn,
through children coloring red flames
with joyful crayons.

And perhaps
this is the true miracle of St. Mark:

not simply buildings standing through decades,

but people
still filled with joy enough
to keep loving,
keep welcoming,
keep serving,
keep singing.

Fire never quenched.

Fire laughing through generations.

Fire dancing through Knoxville nights.

Fire born long ago
in an upper room—

and still burning brightly
on Northshore Drive.

Rejoice.

The wind is still blowing.

The Spirit is still moving.

And the Fire still lives.

— TaeHun Yoon, Pentecost 2026