The Coming of the Spirit

It is Pentecost.

Pentecost Sunday brings to mind fiery images of an Upper Room filled with wind and flame. The noise of a gale blowing through the window toppling whatever’s in its path. The din of confusion and surprise. Lights and sounds. The babbling of tongues. Excitement all around. Acts of the Apostles presents the coming of the Holy Spirit with vivacity.

The Gospel of the day, from John’s Gospel, offers a different scene, however.

On the evening of that first day of the week,
when the doors were locked, where the disciples were,
for fear of the Jews,
Jesus came and stood in their midst
and said to them, "Peace be with you."
When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side.
The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.
Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you.
As the Father has sent me, so I send you."

—Jn 20:19–21

Here, peace abounds as love displaces fear. It is the peace of a presence. It is the peace of Christ. And Christ breathes the Holy Spirit upon these dead and doubting disciples, like the Lord breathed life into Adam in Genesis 2. It is an image of intimacy. It is an image of creation.

The juxtaposed accounts from Acts and from John remind us that the Spirit comes to us in many and various ways. The Spirit comes to us in the manner of God’s providence. God gives us the Spirit in the way in which we need the Spirit. Pentecost was, and Pentecost is. We still need the Holy Spirit, and it’s not up to us to determine what that coming looks like now versus then, or what it will look like in the future.

“The wind blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

—Jn 3:8

Our responsibility, then, is one of disposition — to assume a posture of openness to the movements of the Spirit, whether they are fiery or delicate.