There once was a king named Dionysius who ruled over Syracuse, the richest city in Sicily. The king had great wealth and lived in a beautiful palace bedecked with many fine things. As he went about his responsibilities, his every need was attended to by servants.

Many in his kingdom envied his wealth and power. One of these was the king’s good friend, Damocles, who was always speaking covetously to him: “What a life you have! Everything you want is yours! You must be the happiest man in the world!”

One day the king challenged him. “You always say that. Do you really think I’m the happiest person?”

“Oh, absolutely! You haven’t a care in the world,” said Damocles.

“Perhaps you’d like to switch places with me?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t wish for that,” he said. “But if I could have your wealth and pleasures for just one day, that would give me the greatest happiness.”

“All right, then,” said Dionysius. “Trade places with me for a day, and you shall have them.”

And so he did. The next day Damocles was ushered into the palace and treated royally. The servants dressed him in the finest robes and placed a golden crown on his head. He sat down at a table in the great banquet hall, and all around him were rare perfumes, beautiful flowers, costly wines, rich foods, delightful music.

Damocles surveyed the banquet setting with satisfaction. He reached for his wine, and then leaned back in his chair to tip the cup to his lips, when suddenly his eyes caught a glance at something. What was that?

He stiffened, his face ashen white. That instant, Damocles wanted no more food, no more wine, no more music. He only wanted to be out of the palace, far away. Directly above his head hung a sword, suspended from the ceiling by a single horsehair. Its sharp blade glistened, pointing right between his eyes. He started to jump up, but stopped himself for fear that any sudden move would snap the thread and bring the sword down upon his head.

“What’s the matter, friend?” said Dionysius. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“The sword!” whispered Damocles. “Don’t you see it?”

“Of course I see it,” said the king. “I see it every day. I live with it hanging over my head, with the danger that someone or something could cut that thread—a jealous subject, a foreign kingdom, an unwise decision I make. To have this office, you must accept these risks. They come with the responsibilities, you see.”

Damocles then realized the seriousness of the king’s position. He was a timid soul, and went home shaken. And from that day, never again did he wish to switch places with the king.

Three things make that a Pentecost story—a story about God’s firstfruits: wealth, responsibility and the sword.

Like Dionysius, God’s firstfruits are a wealthy people. Pentecost reminds us of that.

God hand-picked each of us with specific intent—over hundreds of thousands of others.

Then He revealed to us His spiritual law.True love! The happiness formula! The knowledge that philosophers, paupers and princes of this world have all sought in vain—it is ours. Imagine what your life would be like without this law. What riches we possess! (Prov. 3:13-16).

And, unlike the ancient Israelites who had the same law, we have another Pentecost blessing—God’s Holy Spirit, the Comforter. That Spirit enables us to keep the law, to experience the blessings of obedience they were denied because of their carnality. It puts within us the hope of our calling, giving us understanding of the riches of the glory of our inheritance (Eph. 1:17-19).

As Mr. Flurry often says, we have a chance no one else will have for all eternity. We will marry Christ—we will enter God’s family on the mother level. Even now, we have been given the position of kings (Rev. 5:10); we each have a crown (II Tim. 4:8). We have the riches of royalty, enjoying, to our fullest desire, a daily banquet of spiritual food. We are among the wealthiest kings on earth! That is much of what Pentecost pictures.

If they could really understand what we are being offered, some might say, “What a life you have! Everything you want is yours! You must be the happiest people in the world!”

In one way, they would be right.

However, that is only part of the picture. Remember, wealth was only part of Dionysius’ life. Of far greater importance was the responsibility he carried.

Did you ever think about how much the day of Pentecost is about responsibility?

Having a part in the congregation of firstfruits is a position of responsibility. Here is how Mr. Armstrong explained it: God made him responsible for fulfilling the Matthew 24:14 commission. “It would have been utterly impossible for me to carry out this great commission alone,” he wrote. “That is why God has called younow, instead of later, in the Millennium!… [T]he mighty God looked down from heaven and selected you and me to be called to salvation now, before the time, that He might use us as His human instruments in getting His message to this entire world—preparing the way for the coming of His kingdom on earth to end the nightmarish evils, agonies, sufferings, violence, wars and injustices on earth” (Good News, May 1974). Pentecost is about our responsibility to support the warning Work, most especially through prayers and offerings. The world is waiting in agony, counting on us (Rom. 8:22-23).

We also each bear a unique responsibility within the body of Christ (I Cor. 12). What’s your “job description” within the Church, in your congregation, in your family? Think about it deeply, and you’ll realize that it’s quite detailed. We are each accountable for a considerable lot.

Realize, too, the responsibility we bear for having received God’s law and His Holy Spirit. Those gifts bestow upon us a very personal, individual responsibility to God, as a servant to the master who lent him talents while he was away (Matt. 25:14-30). Pentecost points out our need to make use of these gifts—to constantly grow in them, to govern ourselves and our families by them.

And, again, Pentecost is ultimately about our responsibility to prepare, now, to be Christ’s bride. It’s about our future responsibility in sharing His throne, assuming positions as teachers, kings and priests in God’s Kingdom, and finally raising a family with our Husband. While there is no higher reward we could receive, neither is there greater responsibility.

The same people who might envy our position (again, if they could understand it), would likely not be willing to accept the responsibility it brings. The truth is, the spiritual wealth we possess is a by-product of the spiritual responsibility we bear—not the other way around!

Now, the final element of the story.

As surely as we have the blessings of firstfruits—as surely as we bear the responsibility of firstfruits—like Dionysius, we live in the shadow of a sword. “Let us labour therefore to enter into that rest, lest any man fall after the same example of unbelief. For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart” (Heb. 4:11-12).

As has often been said, we are possessors of dangerous knowledge. As firstfruits, we are unique on this earth: not only in our understanding, and the incredible potential that brings, but in the fact that we are being judged today (I Pet. 4:17), scrutinized according to the word of God—something much deadlier than a normal sword. As long as we are mortal we live with the unique risk of falling, losing it all. That is part of the price of being a king.

That leads to an important question we may ask ourselves: Am I Dionysius, or am I Damocles?

Are we truly kings, or merely “kings for a day”? Do we accept, and in fact embrace, the risks of responsibility, as King Dionysius did? Or, like Damocles, do we cower when we recognize those risks? Do we ever find ourselves turning down responsibilities for fear of having to work too hard, or of failure? Are we comfortable with letting others do all the hard work, demanding less of ourselves because we don’t want to stick our necks out?

We in God’s Church have shown, by counting the cost and making the baptismal covenant, that we are not a people to balk at risk.

We have Christ in us—the One who put everything at risk as a man to fulfill the gravest responsibility. What wondersGod can perform with a Christ-filled, dependable nation of firstfruits! A people who will not shrink under pressure. People who, with the faith of Christ buckling them, develop an attitude like God describes in Job 39:22—“He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted; neither turneth he back from the sword.”

What can God do with people who turn away from responsibility for fear of harm, or discomfort, humiliation, or death? Not much. “For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it” (Matt. 16:25). Especially now, in this age of widespread failure in God’s Church, God needs in his remnant congregation of firstfruits a people who embrace responsibility—with all its attendant risks. If done properly, each job we accept will help us to break down our vanity, not build it up (Matt. 20:26-27), and we can then be used by God for ever more powerful purposes.

God is building in us, the called-out ones, a nation of courage. We are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people, called out of darkness into God’s marvellous light.

Remember the attitude of Dionysius. Let us embrace our special firstfruits calling—in all its facets: the wealth of blessing, the increasing responsibility, and the weight of risk. Then, as it says in Romans 8:35, nothing shall separate us from the love of Christ—not tribulation, nor distress, nor persecution, famine, nakedness or peril. Not even the sword.