We are at the Last Supper and the disciples realized that Jesus is about to leave them. Their hearts are troubled; they are sad and wonder what sense their lives will have without him. Jesus reassures them by inviting them to remain faithful to his first proposal of life (v. 15). Love will be the sign that they are in tune with him.
Gospel: John 20:19–23
Today the Church celebrates the great solemnity of Pentecost, the feast of the descent of the Holy Spirit, fifty days after Easter, according to the account in the Acts of the Apostles (see first reading). Pentecost, which means "fiftieth (day)" in Greek, was a Jewish feast – one of the three pilgrimage festivals to the Temple in Jerusalem: Passover, Pentecost, and the Feast of Tabernacles (the harvest festival in autumn). It was originally an agricultural feast, a thanksgiving celebration for the first fruits of the harvest, held on the 50th day after Passover. It was also called the "Feast of Weeks" because it occurred seven weeks after Passover. Later, this agricultural festival was associated with the commemoration of the giving of the Law or Torah to Moses on Mount Sinai.
The Christian Pentecost is the fulfilment and conclusion of the Easter season. It is our own "Passover", a transition to a new condition—no longer under the dominion of the Law, but guided by the Spirit. It is the feast of the Church’s birth and the beginning of the Mission.
The readings for this feast, in fact, present us with four different comings of the Holy Spirit, or four distinct but complementary modes of His presence. One might say there are four "Pentecosts"!
The first reading (Acts 2:1–11) describes a surprising, forceful, and luminous coming of the Spirit:
"When Pentecost day came round, the apostles had all met in one room, when suddenly they heard what sounded like a powerful wind from heaven, the noise of which filled the entire house in which they were sitting; and something appeared to them that seemed like tongues of fire; these separated and came to rest on the head of each of them. They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages as the Spirit gave them the gift of speech."
It is a coming that brings awe and wonder, enthusiasm and euphoria, consolation and courage. It is utterly gratuitous, unpredictable, and never programmable. These are exceptional moments. Some are found in the book of Acts, but others have occurred throughout Church history—perhaps less dramatic, but always deeply fruitful. Indeed, Pentecost is always followed by an ecclesial springtime. And God knows how much we need one in the ecclesial winter we are experiencing in the West! Only the Church’s unceasing prayer, the humble patience of the sower, and docility to the Spirit can obtain such a grace!
The outpouring of the Spirit extends to all creation. He is the one "who gives life and sanctifies the universe" (Eucharistic Prayer III). He is the one who "brings springtime pollen into the depths of history and all things" (Ermes Ronchi). Therefore, with the Psalmist, we invoke Pentecost upon the entire earth:
"Send forth your Spirit, O Lord, and renew the face of the earth." (Psalm 104)
This should be a typical and habitual prayer of every Christian: to invoke Pentecost upon the world, upon the dynamics that govern our social life, and upon the events of history. Everyone complains about “how bad the world has become”, about the “bad spirit” that seems to animate it—but how many of us truly make an epiclesis (invocation) of the Spirit over people, situations, and the events of our daily lives?
In the second reading (1 Corinthians 12), the Apostle Paul draws our attention to another manifestation of the Spirit: the charisms.
"There are different gifts, but the same Spirit... To each one is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good..."
Today, much is said about charisms and the sharing of ecclesial ministries, yet there is a growing and troubling disinterest among younger generations. The sacrament of confirmation—our "personal Pentecost", which ought to mark the transition to full participation in the life of the Church—is, sadly, too often the moment of departure. A clear sign that we have failed in our mission of Christian initiation. What must be done? The Church must develop an extremely sensitive ear and strengthen its antennas to discern the Voice of the Spirit in this particular moment of her history. I dare say the most serious issue we face is the spiritual mediocrity of our communities. Preoccupied with safeguarding orthodoxy and proper liturgical order, we have lost sight of the essential: the experience of faith!
The liturgy once again offers us the Gospel of the Risen Jesus’ appearance on the evening of Easter (John 20:19–23), a Gospel filled with Easter resonance:
"On the evening of that same day, the first day of the week, the doors were closed in the room where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews. Jesus came and stood among them. He said to them, 'Peace be with you', and showed them his hands and his side. The disciples were filled with joy when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, 'Peace be with you. As the Father sent me, so I am sending you.' After saying this, he breathed on them and said, 'Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, they are forgiven; if you retain anyone’s sins, they are retained.'"
This Gospel is often called the "little Pentecost" of St John’s Gospel because, here, Easter and Pentecost coincide. The Risen Christ gives the Spirit on the evening of Easter Sunday. The entire context evokes the Sunday gathering and the Eucharist. It is there that the Spirit "hovers over the waters" (Genesis 1:2) of chaos and the fear of death, and brings peace, harmony, and the joy of life. The pre-eminent role of the Spirit must be rediscovered. This is His time. Without Him, we cannot proclaim "Jesus is Lord" (1 Corinthians 12:3), nor cry out "Abba! Father!" (Galatians 4:6). There is no Eucharist without the intervention of the Spirit. That is why we must enter the Eucharist with this prayer in our hearts: Come, come, Holy Spirit!
To conclude: how do you sail the sea of life—by rowing or by sailing?
We breathe in the Holy Spirit. He is the oxygen of the Christian life. Without Him, Christianity becomes law and obligation, a constant rowing, with effort and fatigue. With Him, it is the joy of living and loving, the lightness of sailing with the wind. Now that we return to Ordinary Time after Easter, and to the routine of life, how do you prepare to navigate: with the strength of your own arms, or letting yourself be carried by the Wind that fills the open sail of your heart?
Fr. Manuel João Pereira Correia, mccj
The Spirit: Hope of a New World
Gospel reflection – John 14:15-16,23b-26
We are at the Last Supper and the disciples realized that Jesus is about to leave them. Their hearts are troubled; they are sad and wonder what sense their lives will have without him. Jesus reassures them by inviting them to remain faithful to his first proposal of life (v. 15). Love will be the sign that they are in tune with him. Then he promises not to leave them alone, without protection and without guidance. He will pray to the Father, and he “will send another Paraclete” that will remain with them forever (v. 16). It is the promise of the gift of that Spirit that Jesus possessed in fullness (Lk 4:1,14,18) and that will be poured out on the disciples.
The Spirit is called the Comforter, but this word is not a good translation of the Greek Παρακλήτος. Paraclete is a term taken from the forensic language and indicates someone who is called next to the accused, the defender, the rescuer of those in difficulty. In this sense, Jesus is the Paraclete, as noted by John in his first letter: “My little children, I write to you that you may not sin. But if anyone sins, we have an intercessor with the Father, Jesus Christ, the Just One” (1 Jn 2:1). Jesus is the paraclete as our advocate with the Father, not because he defends us from the wrath of God—the Father is never against us, is always on our side—but because he protects us from our accuser, our adversary, sin. The enemy is sin, and Jesus knows how to reduce it to impotence.
Now he promises another Paraclete, who has not the task of replacing him, but to accomplish his very own mission. The Spirit is the Paraclete because comes to the rescue of the disciples in their struggle against the world, that is, against the forces of evil (Jn 16:7-11). At this point a question arises: if the Paraclete is such a powerful defender, why does evil continue to prevail over good and why does sin so often dominates us? The Christians of the communities of Asia Minor at the end of the first century also wondered why the new world was not immediately established and in a prodigious way. Jesus answers these doubts and uncertainties: “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make a room in his home” (v. 23).
Jesus wants to manifest himself, together with the Father, not through miracles, but by coming to dwell in the disciples. The Israelites believed that the place of God’s presence was the temple in Jerusalem. However, as early as King Solomon, a doubt that a house made of man’s hand cannot hold the Lord of the universe arose (1 K 8:27). Through the prophets’ mouth, God had promised that he would come to live among his people: “Sing and rejoice, O daughter of Zion, for I am about to come. I shall dwell among you” (Zec 2:14).
He was not referring to a material sanctuary. It is in the man Jesus that God fulfilled the promise and has made himself present (Jn 1:14). Now—ensures Jesus—God dwells and is made visible in the disciple who loves as He loved. For this is not difficult to recognize if and when the devil is present in a man and when Jesus and the Father are instead present and act in him.
In the last verse, Jesus promises the Holy Spirit, “the Paraclete who will teach and remind” all that he said (v. 26). Jesus said it all; he did not leave out anything, yet it is necessary that the Spirit continues to teach because he could not explain all the implications and practical applications of his message. In the history of the world—he knew—the disciples would always be faced with new situations and questions, which they had to answer in the light of the gospel. Jesus assures: if they will stay in tune with the promptings of the Spirit present in them, they will always find the answer in conformity with his teaching.
The Spirit will often ask for unforeseen radical changes, but will not lead to ways other than those indicated by Jesus. In the Scripture, the verb “to teach” has a deeper meaning. The Spirit does not teach in the same way a professor does in school when he explains the lesson. He teaches in a dynamic way, becomes an inner impulse, irresistibly pushes us in the right direction, stimulates the good in us, and leads us to make choices consistent with the Gospel.
“He will guide you into the whole truth”—explains Jesus at the Last Supper (Jn 16:13)—and, in his first letter, John explains: “You have received from him an anointing, and it remains in you, so you do not need someone to teach you. His anointing teaches you all things, it speaks the truth and does not lie to you; so remain in him and keep what he has taught you” (1 Jn 2:27-28).
The second task of the Spirit is to remind. There are many words of Jesus, which, despite being in the Gospels, run the risk of being forgotten or unmentioned. It happens, especially with those proposals that are not easy to assimilate because they are contrary to the “common sense” of the world. These are those that need to be constantly recalled.
Fernando Armellini
Italian missionary and biblical scholar
https://sundaycommentaries.wordpress.com