This is Pentecost. This is Pride. 

Today’s reflection is from Bondings 2.0 contributor Ariell Watson Simon, whose brief bio and previous posts can be found here.

Today’s liturgical readings for Pentecost Sunday of Easter can be found here.

I remember my first Pride celebration. I lived in Boston at the time, and my girlfriend was visiting from out of town. We climbed onto a packed T train, crammed between other riders decked out in rainbow attire and outrageous makeup. The air on the train was festive. We hadn’t reached the parade route yet, but everyone seemed eager to start the party. Someone was blaring music through a speaker, and strangers were singing along. My partner slung her arm around me, and we revelled in the novelty of feeling that our love was totally normal and unremarkable in this crowd. In this extraordinary band of strangers, we were ordinary. This, I thought, is Pride.

A few stops before the parade route, we parted ways with the crowd and shuffled off the train. Knowing my aversion to large crowds and my love of history, my partner had planned a quieter way for us to celebrate. We stepped into the shady interior of a Victorian brownstone to tour the home of Charles Gibson, a notable member of early 20th-century Boston’s queer subculture. The tour was organized in honor of Pride month, a celebration of the city’s queer history. As we moved through rooms filled with plush furniture and historic artifacts, I felt swept along by the courage and creativity of queer ancestors who made a life for themselves in this city. I murmured a silent prayer of gratitude for their legacy. This, I thought, is Pride.

My Pride celebration looked rather different from the parade-goers who were dancing in the streets. Throughout this month, millions of people will celebrate Pride in cities, small towns, bars, and private homes all over the globe. The big-city parades will capture most of the headlines, but they are the tip of the iceberg. Each person and each community will commemorate it in their own way, according to their own personality, language, culture, and customs. This is the magic of Pride: we are each unique, and we celebrate that individuality together. Our very particularity is our communal bond.

Today is Pentecost Sunday, which commemorates another celebration of unity in diversity. In today’s scripture readings, the Catholic lectionary pairs two passages to tell the story of how the early disciples received the gift of the Holy Spirit. In today’s first liturgical reading, from Acts, we hear St. Luke’s depiction of the Holy Spirit arriving like a rushing wind and tongues of fire. It seems big, energetic, and exciting. The Spirit “filled the entire house where they were,” and then spilled out into the streets. Much like Pride parade-goers, the disciples are so full of life that they burn brightly with it and shout it from the rooftops. Their exuberance is dramatic and contagious. This is Pentecost.

St. John’s Gospel account is something different entirely. He depicts the Holy Spirit not as a rushing wind, but as a calming breath, given to people who were huddled together in fear. Jesus twice repeats, “Peace be with you.” His message is reassuring, tailored to disciples struggling with terror and doubt. For them, the gift of the Spirit means peace. It means a renewed sense of purpose in realizing they were not alone, something akin to what I found in the Charles Gibson House. As Jesus breathes on them tenderly and intimately, I imagine the tension leaving their shoulders and the knot of anxiety in the base of their stomachs vanishing. This is Pentecost.

These two followers of  of Jesus wrote about their experience of receiving the Holy Spirit in two totally different ways. I find myself wondering if there are as many ways of telling this tale as there were (and are) disciples. 

Today’s responsorial psalm declares, “When you send forth your spirit, they are created, and you renew the face of the earth.” Just as we have each been created uniquely by our loving God, we experience renewal and the Divine Presence differently. As today’s passage from the first letter to the Corinthians puts it, “There are different kinds of spiritual gifts but the same Spirit.”

This Pride month, I hope that you find a way to celebrate that is uniquely your own, and that you feel the Spirit moving within you. Perhaps that will be among strangers, or in the comfort of a close group of friends. Maybe Pride feels joyful and exhilarating. Maybe it feels peaceful, a prayer of gratitude for being created as you are. 

However you celebrate, I pray that you will experience the confidence that Jesus’s disciples felt when they received the Spirit. Much like Pride-goers, the apostles celebrated unabashedly, trusting that some people would understand and receive their message. Some would not accept their testimony, but that was beside the point. For when we are filled with the Spirit, it radiates from us. Whether external observers believe us or not, we speak our truth because it burns within. This is Pentecost. This is Pride. 

—Ariell Watson Simon, New Ways Ministry, June 8, 2025

More on Pentecost and Pride:

The Animated, Extravagant and Flamboyant Spirit of God: The Pentecost installment of Journeys , New Ways Ministry’s online set of scripture reflection exercises designed for LGBTQ+ ministy that can be used for individual contemplation and group discussion.  This series is an invitation to walk with our ancestors, discover the great source of love, and celebrate our identities as children of God and LGBTQ+ persons and allies.

EXODUS: Of Pride and Marches: Another scriptural reflection exercise on Pride.