(Acts 2:1-41; John 15:26-16:15)

Jesus ascended to send his Spirit on the Apostles. That happened 10 days after the Ascension, on Pentecost Sunday.

Compare the Apostles before and after the descent of the Holy Spirit. Back in the Garden of Gethsemane, faced with Jesus’s arrest, “all the disciples deserted him and fled” (Matthew 26:56). One was so eager to escape he ran off without his clothes to avoid arrest (Mark 14:51-52). Peter is busy telling folks: “Jesus? Never heard of him!” (See John 18:15-18, 25-27). 

Today, those men, led by Peter, run … into the streets to start preaching. They speak in tongues. They are heard by people of 15 different ethnicities, “speaking in our own tongues of the mighty acts of God” (Acts 2:11). Jesus had already promised these “mighty” works of the Paraclete: just reread what he said at the Last Supper, as recounted by John (15:26-16:15).

The Holy Spirit does “mighty” things. We already met that might on Good Friday, when the Temple veil is torn in two, tombs are opened, the dead are raised, and already the centurion confesses, “Surely this was the Son of God!” (Matthew 27:51-54)

The Holy Spirit makes it possible to say — and mean — “Jesus is Lord!” (1 Corinthians 12:3).

The Holy Spirit prays in us “because we do not know how to pray as we ought” (Romans 8:26).

Quoting Peter, these are the days when “God says, ‘I will pour out my Spirit on all people” (Acts 2:17-18).

The Holy Spirit does not do things subtly. Those gathered in the Upper Room on the first Pentecost discover that. His coming is heralded by “a strong, driving wind that filled the whole house” (Acts 2:2). He appears as fire, tongues of which separate and descend on each disciple (v. 3). And the result is immediate: “They were filled with the Holy Spirit.”

When you consider the unprecedented growth of the early Church — how 12 simple men, many of them fishermen from the backwater regions of a backwater Roman province — changed the world, well … that’s the Holy Spirit for you.

Perhaps the Holy Spirit comes less spectacularly in our own times, but certainly with no less power. Pentecost was not a one-time affair, limited to those who were in the Upper Room in Jerusalem 2,000 years ago. Each of us has our own personal Pentecost in the form of the sacrament of Confirmation.

Too often, Confirmation becomes the “forgotten sacrament,” received once in youth. But it is a vital sacrament, because it enables us to live our Christian witness in whatever state of life we are in. Baptism makes us God’s children; Confirmation makes us grown-up children of God. And children are supposed to grow up; infantilism past infancy is arrested development.

Do we thank God for our Confirmation and ask the Holy Spirit to empower us to live that sacrament in our lives? In our marriages? Our families? Our workplaces? Our communities? 

If I’m ready to share with a friend or neighbor the “good news” of a recipe or a tip or a recommendation, why should I hesitate about sharing the “Good News” of Jesus Christ? It doesn’t mean becoming a holy roller. But neither does it mean becoming a deaf-mute.

Back in 1969, the Fifth Dimension assured us this “was the dawning of the Age of Aquarius.” Well, it isn’t. But Pentecost was the dawning of the Age of the Holy Spirit, who will be at work in this world until the Last Day, until all things will be restored through the Spirit in Christ to present the Father an “eternal Kingdom.”

The Holy Spirit is not remote, not distant, not “somewhere out there.” Whatever good we do has its origin in God. (If that were not true, we wouldn’t need Jesus. We could save ourselves). So, if all good originates in God, then whenever we are inspired toward a good thought, word, or deed, it’s really the Holy Spirit moving our will, inviting us to cooperate in his work to restore all things in Christ. 

Do I consider how the Holy Spirit, with whom I was “sealed [as] with the gift” (the Rite of Confirmation) is and wants to work in and through me today? Do I let him?

Do I realize I am not just “doing something” here and now, but that I am building God’s Kingdom, his “eternal Kingdom?” Men in the Middle Ages were proud to put their little stone into a grand cathedral, but the Holy Spirit enables us to build for eternity.

This mystery is depicted in art by the Portuguese painter, Pedro Alexandrino de Carvalho (1729-1810). The Baroque artist was considered by some his country’s most important painter in the second half of the 18th century, decorating many churches reconstructed after the Lisbon earthquake of 1755.

We see something of that powerful coming of the Holy Spirit in this painting. His arrival in the form of a dove amidst a fiery cloud drives the picture. It is clear heaven breaks into this world. His arrival moves everyone in that room: unlike many Pentecost scenes, nobody is sitting complacently. Everybody, even if seated, is moved. That’s apparent from their arms. He startles them. But their startling is not one of flight but of receptivity. The most prominent disciple on Mary’s left (Peter?) is already pointing others toward the Spirit. Two of those others seem already to be reaching for him or praying for his descent. Mary seems the calmest, but that should not surprise us. She has already been visited by the Holy Spirit on the day of the Annunciation.

Those assembled in this painting are about to receive the Holy Spirit. Soon, they will continue their dynamic movement, out the door, ready to share what they have received. 

Am I?