Catholic Charismatic Renewal Gathering 2026

At Pentecost, the Church does not celebrate a memory alone. She celebrates a Presence. The Holy Spirit is not merely something God once gave to the Church; the Holy Spirit is God still breathing life into the Church now — in Tasmania, in our parishes, in our prayer groups, in our homes, and in the restless depths of the human heart.

When Pope John Paul II wrote the encyclical Dominum et Vivificantem in 1986, he gave the Church one of the richest reflections ever written on the Holy Spirit. The title itself comes from the Nicene Creed: “the Lord, the giver of life.” Not an idea. Not a force. Not simply an inspiration. The Holy Spirit is Lord. Divine. Personal. Living. Active.

And perhaps that matters now more than ever.

We live in a world exhausted by noise, division, anxiety, loneliness and war. Many people have material comfort but spiritual emptiness. They have information but not wisdom; connection but not communion. Tasmania itself can sometimes feel spiritually fragile. We know well that we live in one of the least religious parts of Australia. Yet Pentecost reminds us that Christianity was born not in a confident world but in a frightened room.

The apostles at Pentecost were not triumphant heroes. They were wounded men who hid behind locked doors. They carried failure, confusion, shame and fear. Peter had denied Christ. Thomas had doubted. All of them had fled.

Yet the Holy Spirit descended upon precisely that infant Church that had not yet learnt to walk.

And that should encourage every one of us.

Why? Because the Holy Spirit does not wait for perfection. The Spirit creates boldness out of weakness. The Spirit does not merely decorate the Church; the Spirit resurrects the Church.

John Paul II called the Holy Spirit “the transcendent principal agent” of the Church’s mission. That is such an important phrase. Too often we imagine that the future of the Church depends entirely on our strategies, structures, plans or resources. Those things matter. But Christianity did not begin because the apostles developed a pastoral plan. It began because fire fell from heaven.

The Holy Spirit is the principal agent.

The Spirit drove Philip toward the Ethiopian official. The Spirit pushed Peter into the house of Cornelius. The Spirit sent Paul across the Mediterranean world. The Spirit raised saints in every century when the Church looked tired or wounded or weak.

The Spirit has not put his feet up nor is he on the pension.

Sometimes Catholics speak as though Pentecost were a finished event. But Pentecost is not finished. Pentecost is the permanent “climate” of the Church.

Every genuine renewal in Christian history has begun with a rediscovery of the Holy Spirit. Think of St Francis of Assisi embracing poverty and rebuilding the Church. Think of St Teresa of Ávila reforming Carmel through prayer. Think of St John Henry Newman recovering the beauty of conscience and truth. Think of the Second Vatican Council itself, which Pope John XXIII described as a “new Pentecost.”

And many of you gathered here this afternoon know personally the transforming power of the Spirit. You know what it is to pray deeply. You know what it is to encounter the love of God not merely as doctrine but as fire in the heart. You know what it is to discover the gifts of the Spirit alive within the Church.

The charismatic renewal has often reminded the wider Church of something essential: Christianity is not simply adherence to principles. It is life in the Spirit.

The Spirit is not an optional extra restricted to enthusiastic Christians. The Spirit is the very soul of Christian existence.

In the Farewell Discourses of John’s Gospel, Jesus calls the Spirit the Paraclete — Advocate, Counsellor, and Comforter. Before His Passion, Jesus promises His disciples that they will not be abandoned. “I shall ask the Father,” He says, “and he will give you another Advocate to be with you forever.”

Forever.

Not for one century. Not for one generation. Forever.

The Holy Spirit accompanies the Church through history. The Spirit consoles, strengthens, purifies, and sends forth.

But the Spirit also disturbs us.

One of the most powerful sections of Dominum et Vivificantem reflects on Jesus’ words that the Spirit will “convince the world concerning sin.” That may sound severe, but John Paul II explains that the Spirit reveals sin not to crush us but to save us. The Spirit shines light into the human heart because God desires healing, not condemnation.

The Spirit convicts us whenever we settle for mediocrity. Whenever we reduce Christianity to habit. Whenever we close ourselves to forgiveness. Whenever we become comfortable with division or bitterness or indifference to the poor.

Yet the same Spirit who reveals sin also gives courage.

At Pentecost, fearful disciples became missionary disciples. Peter, who trembled before a servant girl on Good Friday, now proclaims Christ publicly before crowds. What changed? The Holy Spirit entered and emboldened Peter’s life.

And perhaps that is one of the great needs of the Church in Tasmania now: courage (fortitude).

Courage to speak about Christ with joy rather than embarrassment.

Courage to pray openly.

Courage to invite others to faith.

Courage to believe that God still calls young people.

Courage to expect holiness.

Courage to trust that the Gospel still has power.

The Spirit always pushes the Church outward. The disciples speak in many languages because Pentecost reverses Babel. Human pride divided humanity; the Holy Spirit creates communion amid diversity.

That matters enormously today. We live in an increasingly fractured society. Yet at Pentecost the Church becomes a home where difference is not erased but harmonised. The Spirit does not create uniformity. The Spirit creates unity.

And perhaps nowhere is that more needed than in the Church herself.

The Spirit calls us beyond factions, beyond suspicion, beyond ideological camps. The Holy Spirit is never the possession of one group against another. The Spirit always leads toward deeper communion with Christ and His Church.

St John Paul II also says something beautiful about prayer. He writes that prayer is the place where the Spirit “breathes” within us. Sometimes we do not know how to pray. Sometimes our prayer feels dry or distracted. Yet as Saint Paul says: “the Spirit himself intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words.”

Even our weakness can become prayer.

That should encourage every weary Christian here today. The Spirit is already praying within you before you even begin.

And so, on this feast of Pentecost, perhaps the deepest prayer we can make is a simple one:

“Come, Holy Spirit.” After each of these phrases please pray, “Come Holy Spirit”

Come into our Synodal Church.

Come into our families.

Come into our fears.

Come into Tasmania.

Come into the hearts of young people especially those discerning vocations to the priesthood and religious life.

Come into places where hope has grown dim.

Come with your gifts.

Come with your fire.

Come with your healing.

The Church does not renew herself. The Spirit renews the Church.

And the fire that descended in Jerusalem has not gone out.

Most Rev. Anthony J. Ireland
Archbishop of Hobart
23 May 2026