Day of Pentecost (Year A, RCL)

Grant Macaskill’s reflection on neurodiversity becomes a stimulus to renewal of faith.

We might add to Paul's list gifts for offering comfort, or explaining new guidelines, or displaying ease with technology.

“Receive the Holy Spirit” isn’t an invitation. It’s a command.

Talking about God in the face of wounds that won’t go away

God called all of them good. Humans are rapidly destroying them.

Passing the peace is a word of welcome. It’s also much more than that.

Growing up, I never heard a word about God laughing, joking, or doing anything for fun.

The thin cannot say to the fat, "I have no need of you."

The Spirit affirms our differences, speaking in ways that each of us can understand—yet also drawing us together.

Divisions mark our society—and our churches. What could possibly bring us together?

When Jesus walks into the locked room, the first thing he offers is peace.

I've experienced Pentecost as sweet, serious, or neither.

John 20:19–23

The disciples don't believe Mary—or do they?

Those who heard the disciples preach on Pentecost comprehended the message in their own language. But that was only the beginning.

In Acts comes Luke’s imaginative way to build upon ancient stories. The tongues of fire are no longer seen from afar on top of God’s mountain. And the multiplicity of languages becomes God’s vehicle for bringing salvation to the entire world.

Pentecost offers a vision for Europe: not one megastate or one system for everything, but a model of diversity as peace.

Why is the Jesus on that crucifix so small?

The cross overshadows him, dwarfs him. This is what I think about in my Aquinas class.

Learning a language requires us to focus our attention on something outside ourselves. It's a lot like learning to pray.