Pentecost – Year A
May 24, 2026
Gospel Lectionary Text
John 20:19-23
20:19 When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you."
20:20 After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.
20:21 Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you."
20:22 When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit.
20:23 If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained."
Context
Welcome to Pentecost Sunday. This week we celebrate the gift of the Spirit. John’s Gospel has been preparing us, helping us see that the Spirit is not a consolation prize or a substitute for the real thing. The Spirit is the real thing. It’s how Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection remain present to us in real time.
It’s worth pausing to notice the difference between the accounts of Pentecost in John 20 and Acts 2. They are two sides of the same reality.
In Luke’s account, the Spirit comes publicly in dramatic fashion, fifty days after the resurrection. The Spirit sounds like a mighty wind. It’s like the wind that parted the Red Sea and liberated God’s people in Exodus.
In John’s account, the Spirit arrives discreetly on the night of the resurrection. It comes gently among the disciples, who have locked themselves in a room, filled with fear, shame, and guilt. Jesus breathes into them the breath of life… more like a soft kiss than a mighty wind. It’s the same language we find in Genesis.
It’s as if Acts 2 is the public manifestation of what happened privately in John 20. We can imagine Luke’s version of Pentecost as the outer big bang of Creation, and John’s version as the inner big bang of Creation.
In both cases, the Spirit is given outside the temple to lay people. Gentle enough to inhabit fragile, broken hearts. Strong enough to occupy unjust systems. In both cases, the giving of the Spirit marks the birth of the Church — a new community, the kind in which everyone belongs.
But it’s John who gives us a privileged look into the inner dynamic of Creation. He invites us into the Holy of Holies, something that only the high priest was allowed to enter once a year during the annual rite of atonement.
Having breathed into them the Holy Spirit, Jesus authorizes the disciples to do something — to forgive. Suddenly, the Holy of Holies has now become the very womb of God. We are witnessing Creation while it’s happening. This is the inner big bang. Yes, mercy (which means “womb” in Hebrew) is what makes everything come alive. Welcome to Pentecost.
Question
If forgiveness is how God keeps creating the world, what is being held closed in your life that only forgiveness could open?
Reflections
Will We Listen?
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Like Peter, like Edwaan, and like so many of us, there is a longing for belief out on life’s “danger waters” — those places removed from the placid nature of peace and plenty. Persecution, pain, and tragedy inspire deep longings, often taking the shape of foolhardy propositions such as Peter’s, “Save me in these dangerous...
Commencement
By Joel Van Dyke |
For many in the United States, the end of May is full of graduation parties for aspiring high school seniors -- a transition into a new life as adults. While exciting, for student and parent alike, the season can also be filled with fear and doubt.
All Flesh Is One
By Kris Rocke |
This Sunday we celebrate Pentecost - the gift of the Spirit poured out on "all flesh" (vs. 7). The primary miracle in Acts 2 is a miracle of the ear, not the tongue. The word "hear" shows up three times in this passage. Yes, the real miracle is the ability to "hear" one another amidst...
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Poetry
Shaking Hands
by Padraig O’ Tuama
Because what’s the alternative?
Because of courage.
Because of loved ones lost.
Because no more.
Because it’s a small thing; shaking hands; it happens every day.
Because I heard of one man whose hands haven’t stopped shaking since a market day in Omagh.
Because it takes a second to say hate, but it takes longer, much longer, to be a great leader.
Much, much longer.
Because shared space without human touching doesn’t amount to much.
Because it’s easier to speak to your own than to hold the hand of someone whose side has been previously described, proscribed, denied.
Because it is tough.
Because it is tough.
Because it is meant to be tough, and this is the stuff of memory, the stuff of hope, the stuff of gesture, and meaning and leading.
Because it has taken so, so long.
Because it has taken land and money and languages and barrels and barrels of blood.
Because lives have been lost.
Because lives have been taken.
Because to be bereaved is to be troubled by grief.
Because more than two troubled peoples live here.
Because I know a woman whose hand hasn’t been shaken since she was a man.
Because shaking a hand is only a part of the start.
Because I know a woman whose touch calmed a man whose heart was breaking.
Because privilege is not to be taken lightly.
Because this just might be good.
Because who said that this would be easy?
Because some people love what you stand for, and for some, if you can, theycan.
Because solidarity means a common hand.
Because a hand is only a hand; so hang onto it.
So join your much discussed hands.
We need this; for one small second.
So touch.
So lead.
Prayer
Coming soon.