Pentecost

John 20: 20 – 22

Jesus entered, stood among them, and said, “Peace be with you”. Then he showed them his hands and side. The disciples, seeing the Master with their own eyes, were exuberant. Jesus repeated his greeting, “Peace to you”. Then he took a deep breath and breathed on them. “Receive the Holy Spirit,” he said.

I must’ve been about 10. Maybe 11. It’s funny how details such as our age don’t matter when we’ve been changed. I don’t even remember what was going on in my life. I do remember that life at home was difficult. I loved being at my grandmother’s. I did not much like being at home. But on this particular weekend, I was packed up and sent off to a retreat house for the weekend. I had never heard of a “retreat”. Maybe it was something like getting a second treat? That could not be that bad. It was not being with my parents. That was good enough.

I don’t remember much about that weekend. I don’t know how many kids were there. I don’t remember where we slept or what we did. I do remember one night. There was a small room – it must’ve been a chapel. There were maybe 10 or 15 young people there. I think I may have been the youngest. The Blessed Sacrament may have been exposed. I don’t know. I had never been in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. I do remember the candles.

I also remember the sounds: singing, beautiful singing. And speaking in stranger languages; singing in these strange languages. There may have been tears too. I don’t know. All I know is that this was the most beautiful place I had ever been. I don’t know if we were there 10 minutes or 10 hours. I don’t know what was going on or why. All I know is that it was like a little taste of heaven. After that weekend, I went home full of peace, a peace I have never felt before. Later I learned that it was the Holy Spirit. We had received the Holy Spirit. I’ll never forget that.