May 12, 2016
My brothers and sisters, it is written:
“We have never even heard of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 19:2).
Imagine being one of those who hasn’t heard: someone comes looking for you, crossing dusty roadways, while the sun writes a story into your skin with its heat, and a rhythm of voices creeps through your open windows—this someone comes bearing a promise: “There is One whom He, the Jesus they crucified, sends, to you and to me, to teach us all things (cf. John 14:26) and into all truth bring us (cf. John 16:13). Do you want him?"
You stand, puzzled, perplexed, and then nod—because if this One of whom Jesus and his messenger speak is true, then His coming will most certainly change you, though you do not have the tools with which to imagine it nor the capacity to comprehend or control it. If there is another One, another Other, you don’t want to miss the chance to meet him.
And then you are baptized, in the name of this Spirit, and a mark that you did not before possess you possess now. Just like the human body consists mainly of water of which we are not conscious, a presence of water we cannot feel, so the beginning of life in the Spirit is one completely still and silent—a deep current running leagues beneath the sea. There is no human body constructed without water, in the same way that no baptized Christian walks without the incipient seeds of sanctity, the beginning of listening to the voice of the Spirit.
The question for us now, as we draw closer to a new Pentecost, is this: Do we want more of Him, His presence, His power (cf. Acts 1:8), His anointing, His fragrance?
So often we are like those who had never heard of this Third One; like tombstones lifeless, rather than temples afire, when it comes to the Spirit. More so than this, what we permit is the slow suffocation of a flame that burns in the deepest cranny of our soul—a flame from within which the Spirit whispers to us, Give me more space here. Let my fire and my light, my uncreated gift bestowed in you, become your guiding star, your compass; may it be the source of all you are, all you do, all you become. A single word spoken, a single action taken, without me is empty—so let me fill you.
Let us listen, this time; listen more closely, more deeply—and if we do not know this “listening,” let us ask to learn. He who promised it awaits us.
A prayer, for this waiting:
Our Papa in Heaven! Lord Jesus, Savior and brother! Most Holy Spirit, Sanctifier and Comforter! Come!
I renew this Pentecost the gift of myself to you: everything I am, everything I have, everything I do. May you come and claim every piece of my life, every faculty; may you inspire me, teach me, lead me, strengthen me, and show me Jesus. I ask this all in His Holy Name, by the intercession of all heavenly vessels of the Spirit, most especially Our Lady, His Spouse. Amen.