‘Do not be afraid’
Acts 2:1-11; Ps 104:1, 24, 29-30, 31, 34; 1 Cor 12:3b-7, 12-13; Jn 20:19-23
The suppressor of goodness is not evil, it’s fear. Fear of physical pain can instill cowardice and refusal to act on behalf of justice or the protection of the innocent. But fear wears many hats, and it is often “nonviolent fear” — for example, the fear of loss of respect or the exposure of our deepest shames — that can be one of the most powerful motivators in our lives, keeping us from following God’s will for us.
This dynamic plays out time and again in the Bible. For example, Eve’s reaching for the forbidden fruit is based on her fear that God is trying to unjustly deprive her and Adam from attaining equality with him, “knowing good from evil” (Gn 3:5). Peter’s denial of Jesus on the night of his arrest grows out of his fear of being recognized as one of Jesus’ followers (Mk 14:68).
It is thus no surprise that among Jesus’ most frequent words to his disciples are “Do not be afraid” (e.g., Jn 14:27). The apparent simplicity of this message notwithstanding, it’s important to note that there is no such thing as “generic fear.”
We generally fear particular people or situations, and we fear them for specific reasons. That’s why a situation that might be terrifying for one person might be fairly innocuous for another.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus comes through a locked door and encounters the disciples, who are huddling together in fear. All we’re told is that they are experiencing “fear of the Jews.” Presumably, this is a very real fear for their physical safety.
The scene takes place on the evening after the resurrection. The horror of Jesus’ execution would be preeminent on their minds. Would they be next?
There would also likely be a fear for the future of their mission. They had devoted their entire lives to following Jesus and helping to build the kingdom. What would become of all that now?
When Jesus greets them with “peace be with you,” this is much more than a friendly address. He is establishing that the Prince of Peace, who has conquered death — and thus the fear of death and all its associated limitations — has come to them with news of hope for the future.
Next he gives them his Spirit. Significantly, he tells them to “receive the Holy Spirit.” The Spirit is not forced upon them, nor are they “possessed” by the Spirit through an irresistible attraction. They have total agency to accept or reject the gift from Jesus.
Notice that the gift meets the need. The arrival of the Spirit is meant to allay fears in the face of a seemingly uncertain future.
Furthermore, the gift comes with an offer of freedom. Jesus acknowledges the freedom that forgiveness brings. If you “hold onto” another’s sins, you yourself are burdened with their weight. If you set them free, your own heart is lightened.
I think it is fair to say that the disciples who are huddling in the locked room at the beginning of today’s Gospel have hearts that are heavily burdened by feelings such as fear, disappointment or resentment.
This account of the sending of the Holy Spirit is quite different from the account in the Acts of the Apostles (our first reading), which occurs more than 40 days after John’s scene.
In this case, the Holy Spirit addresses the need for an evangelizing voice that can reach people of all lands and languages. Luke’s and John’s accounts of the arrival of the Holy Spirit are not mutually exclusive; they represent different events and different circumstances, but the same Spirit who uniquely appeals to the particular need at hand.
So this Pentecost Sunday, rather than focusing on the miraculous “speaking in tongues,” think about whatever fears may be hindering your life right now. Name them explicitly in prayer and, ideally, also to a close friend.
Then attend Mass with the explicit intention of opening your heart to the transformative power of the Holy Spirit. Jesus intended that power to bring peace and freedom to those who are trapped by fear. That’s the enduring action of the Spirit in the world today.