Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read John 20:19–23

On this feast of Pentecost, we celebrate the birthday of our Church—a moment of fire and boldness, where fear gave way to proclamation, and locked doors burst open with the Spirit’s rush of movement. Yet before tongues of fire danced above the apostles' heads, a quieter Pentecost had already occurred.

In that quiet moment in the upper room, from the breath of Christ, the living Church was born. 

Although Mary, the mother of Jesus, may not be mentioned in our gospel passage from John, we do find her in the upper room during the moments of Pentecost (Acts 1:14). Our Blessed Mother, who once received the Holy Spirit at the Annunciation, is now present again as the Spirit is poured out and new life is breathed into the apostles. In that upper room, I imagine her not huddled or still, but instead moving about the group, acting as a spiritual mother, comforting and calming fears, easing anxious hearts, and being a source of courage. 

“'Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.' And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said, 'Receive the holy Spirit'” (John 20:21–22).

Mary had a deep understanding of the Holy Spirit. She recognized the Advocate, the Consoler, and the Comforter. What joy must have washed over her as each apostle received power and boldness, bursting through the locked doors of the upper room to proclaim the truth of her Son in the bustling streets! The Holy Spirit, who had always been close to Our Lady, was now fully revealed and visibly poured out upon the Church. And, Mary was there to witness it all.

This same Spirit, this ruah, this powerful and life-giving breath, is what we receive in our Baptism and are sealed with in our Confirmation. With this same Spirit of Peace, we are called to break free from our own locked rooms—our places of fear and anxiety, complacency and apathy, bitterness and unforgiveness—and enter into the busy, fractured, sinful, and darkened world we inhabit.

As we celebrate this bold outpouring of the Spirit upon our Church, the fulfilment of Jesus' promise to always be with us (Matthew 28:20), let us remember that in order to be sent forth on mission—one in which women are desperately needed—we must first receive His peace, His Spirit. We must not become so enraptured and energized by our commission, evangelizing, and making disciples that we forget the essential first step: to receive.  

Receiving can be so challenging, though, can’t it? 

We often believe that in order to receive a gift, we must first be worthy of that gift; we must first earn it, often by doing more, achieving more, and striving more for perfection. This belief is not only faulty but harmful. God did not create us to be His slaves, working endlessly to prove our worth and earn life and freedom. Instead, He created us to live in freedom and communion with Him, simply because He loves us.

We have a mother who, from the beginning, lived in the world but was not defined by it. She knew God the Father—the giver—so deeply that she could fully receive His Spirit and embody His gifts. She experienced and dwelt with Him in peace. And she longs to guide us toward a posture of receptivity, teaching us how to receive first in order to then be sent as instruments of His peace.

To receive the peace of the Holy Spirit is to welcome the presence of Christ into the depths of our souls, not as a fleeting feeling, but as a deep and abiding reality rooted in faith and trust. When Jesus says, “Peace be with you” (John 20:19), He is not offering comfort alone; He is offering Himself. His peace is not the absence of problems, but the presence of God in the midst of them. 

To receive His peace means:

• We surrender control. We trust that Jesus is Lord, even when our life (or circumstances) feel uncertain. 
• We rest in His love. We believe that we are never outside of His gaze. We are fully known and loved and always held in His embrace. 
• We are reconciled to the Father. We accept and allow His endless mercy to wash over us, restoring what is broken, healing what is wounded, and fortifying us to begin again (and again) in our pursuit of holiness.  
• We live boldly and without fear. We have faith in who Jesus says He is, and who He says we are to Him: beloved, precious, chosen. We receive the identity He bestows on us. And, we choose to remember that nothing can separate us from His love, protection, and mercy.

His peace surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7), a peace that our Blessed Mother knew well, one that she received upon giving her fiat and what sustained her obedience and trust throughout her life. May we follow her lead, making room for the Spirit to ease our fears, guide our decisions, dispel our doubts, and fill our hearts. May we receive His peace not just as a gift, but as an invitation to dwell with Him in every moment of every day. 

May we make each day a living Pentecost as we arise each morning with a heart open to the Holy Spirit—ready to receive, to respond, and to radiate peace. 

May we find His peace in our quiet "yes" to small sacrifices, our patient listening, in courageous truth-telling wrapped in love, and in the tender ways we spiritually mother those in our midst. 

And may we, like Mary, bring the peace of Christ into our everyday lives: into our homes, workplaces, relationships, and even our struggles. 

Come, Holy Spirit, make us channels of Your peace.

In Christ’s peace,
Jeannine

Food for thought or journaling…

Reflect on Mary’s Annunciation and her role at Pentecost. How can you embody her openness in your life? Consider where you might be striving instead of receiving the peace Jesus offers. 

Come, Holy Spirit, fill me with the peace of Jesus, calming my fears and stilling my heart. Like Mary and the apostles, grant me boldness, courage, and joy. Help me be a witness to Your love, and an instrument of Your peace. May I find joy in being Yours. Mary, Queen of Peace, intercede for me. Amen.