Pentecost 2026 - God with us forever

What was it like in that upper room? It is Pentecost, a Jewish feast of 50 days that started as a harvest feast but took on later significance of the covenant given to Noah after the flood, and the covenant given to Moses at Sinai. But is now 50 days since they experienced Jesus' Resurrection, but just 10 days ago Jesus ascended, they saw him taken up to the clouds , and he said to them, "wait in Jerusalem". And here they are, hiding, waiting and praying...

Then something happens that no one could have scripted: 

"Suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind, and it filled the entire house in which they were. Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire, which parted and came to rest on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit." (Acts 2:2–4)

With that, doors and windows, once firmly closed, fly open. The disciples rush into the streets of Jerusalem. And the first thing the Holy Spirit does — the very first thing — is give them their voice back. People from every corner of the known world are standing in that crowd: Parthians, Medes, Elamites, residents of Mesopotamia, Egypt, Rome, Crete, Arabia. And every single one of them hears these frightened Galileans speaking in their own native language. Not a common language. Their language. The language of home, of childhood, of prayer.

Take note, the Holy Spirit does not flatten everyone into sameness. The Spirit speaks to each person exactly where they are. Fear gives way to unbridled joy and desire to witness the Good News of Jesus Christ.

In the 2nd reading, St. Paul tells us: 
"There are different kinds of spiritual gifts but the same Spirit; there are different forms of service but the same Lord; there are different workings but the same God who produces all of them in everyone. To each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit." (1 Cor 12:4–7)

Notice what Paul says: to each individual. The Spirit is not handed out to the congregation as a whole, like a single bucket of water poured over a crowd. The Spirit comes to you. To the person next to you. To the child in the middle row who doesn't quite understand the readings yet. To the person in the back who almost didn't come today or came late or semi-reluctantly. To each one — uniquely, personally, specifically.

The same Spirit. Different gifts. One Body. The Church is not a club of like-minded people. It is a living organism, animated by the breath of God. And just as a body gets into trouble when one part decides it doesn't need the others, so the Church suffers when any of us decides our gift is too small to matter, or — just as dangerous — too important to share.
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We live in a time of noise, chaos, division, and exhaustion. We scroll through our phones and encounter fear dressed up as information. We watch the Church struggle — with its wounds, with its credibility, with the slow drift of people away from the pews. And sometimes we wonder: where, exactly, is the Holy Spirit in all of this? Thomas Merton once wrote that the spiritual life is not about achieving extraordinary states — it is about learning to recognize the God who is already here. The Holy Spirit is not far off, waiting to be summoned by the sufficiently holy. The Spirit was given to you at Baptism. Sealed in you at Confirmation. Sustained in you each time you receive the Eucharist. The question is not whether the Spirit is present. The question is whether we are paying attention.

Brothers and sisters, the doors and windows of that upper room were meant to be opened. And so are ours. Whatever gift the Spirit has placed in you:  the gift of teaching, of hospitality, of mercy, of music, of service, of simply being there when others won't— that gift was not given for your private benefit. It was given, as Paul says, "for some benefit" — for the good of the whole Body, for the sake of a world that is hungry for exactly the thing the Spirit placed in you.

The disciples in that upper room already had the resurrection. They had seen the risen Lord with their own eyes. What they lacked was not belief — it was the courage to act on what they believed.
Pentecost gave them that, gives us that.

Come Holy Spirit. Sanctify, empower, transform our lives, give us the courage to be the apostles of this day that we are called to be. Amen

Peace.

Deacon Michel