A Noise Like a Strong Driving Wind?

This Sunday is Pentecost, the day when we recall the dramatic outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon the first followers of Jesus. This year as I reflected on the story from Acts, I was struck by the powerful images – the sights and sounds that accompanied this outpouring – especially how the Spirit is described as sounding like “a strong driving wind” (NABRE) or like “the rush of a violent wind” (NRSV; Acts 2:2).

We often experience the voice of God in our lives as a quiet thing – a still small voice, a whisper, a stirring of the heart, or the murmurings of conscience. And it is often a slow communication – a voice that speaks in layers as time passes, a message that takes hold slowly over the course of many years.

But the Pentecost story reminds us of other ways that God communicates. Sometimes the divine voice is loud, powerful, fast and laser-like in its precision. The NRSV’s word “violent” lingers here – not violence in the sense of harming anyone – but violent in the sense of strong enough to wreak havoc on our minds and hearts, wild enough to unsettle or even unseat us. Of course the goal of this unsettling is not ultimately turmoil but healing and life. God speaks in mysterious ways!

Will you share with me what the voice of God sounds like in your life? Is it a gentle whisper or a strong driving wind? Is there a metaphor that comes to mind to describe your own experience?

I’d love to hear from you – as a comment directly on the blog page, or as a reply to email if you receive the blog that way, or as a facebook comment if you are reading there.

Happy Pentecost!

Sunday's Gospel: Who Is the Advocate?

The following is republished with permission from my column in Catechist magazine. For subscription information, visit catechist.com.

May 21, Sixth Sunday of Easter, Gospel Reading: John 14:15-21

In this week’s Gospel reading, Jesus’ “Farewell Discourse” (John 14–16) continues. In this short excerpt of the discourse, Jesus assures his disciples that, although he will be leaving them soon, he will remain with them. But how?

Jesus tells his followers that if they keep his commandments, the Father will send them “another Advocate.” The Greek word translated here as “advocate” is parakletos, a word that typically refers to an advocate or mediator (but is sometimes translated as “comforter”). Jesus already serves as a mediator between God and his followers, but now he is speaking of sending another mediator, one he identifies as “the Spirit of truth.”

It is clear that the Spirit is distinct from Jesus, and yet the Spirit allows Jesus to continue to be with his followers, to be revealed to them, and even to love them. Thus Jesus can say that even though the world will no longer be able to see him, his disciples will. This is the power of the presence of the Spirit of truth.

As if this were not enough to boggle the minds of the disciples, Jesus adds this mysterious nugget: “I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you.” The unity of Jesus with his Father is an oft-repeated theme in John’s Gospel. But now Jesus draws his disciples into this wonderful communion. It may seem that a mediator is no longer necessary if we are “in Jesus” and he is “in the Father.” Perhaps Jesus is saying that it is precisely this revealing Spirit of truth that makes this intimacy with the Father and Son possible.

We may not understand everything Jesus is saying in his Farewell Discourse, even in this small piece of it. But one message is clear: Although we cannot see Jesus with our eyes, he remains with us. He urges us to believe it.

ASK YOURSELF: Do I feel the presence of Jesus? Or is it something I must accept on faith?

ASK YOUR STUDENTS: Do you think the disciples were ever confused by Jesus’ words? Do you think they came to understand some of his teachings after he died and rose from the dead? Why? How?

PRAY: Spirit of truth, mediate for me, comfort me, and reveal Jesus to me.

LIVE THE GOSPEL: The Holy Spirit is described by Jesus as a paraclete — a mediator, an advocate, or a comforter. How can you be a mediator or an advocate for someone this week? How can you mediate the presence of Jesus by supporting or comforting someone?

In this lovely image by Charles Plessard (goache on paper), the Holy Spirit descends upon Jesus as he is baptized by John the Baptist. Illustrations of the baptism of Jesus allow an artistic expression of the intimacy between Jesus, the Father and the Spirit that we read about in this passage from John's Gospel. Image courtesy Sacred Art Pilgrim.

I Can't. You Must.

One of my students, Sister Jerilyn, shared this prayer with our class last night. The prayer is attributed to Oscar Romero. 

I looked this prayer up online, and one commentator astutely noted that this prayer was Romero's personal way of praying Jesus' prayer of surrender in the Garden of Gethsemane: "Not what I want but what you want" (Mt. 26:39). 

I Will Not Believe

Like most human beings, I’m very sympathetic to the disciple Thomas. Last Sunday’s Gospel reading recounted the story of Thomas’ iconic doubt – his declaration to his friends (who declared Christ risen because they had seen him) that “unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe” (Jn. 20:25).

My typical “go-to” thought on this episode has always been, Who could blame the guy?  It’s only human to not accept that dead people come back to life. It’s only human to think that perhaps your friends are simply believing what they want to believe. It’s only human to doubt.

But this year it struck me how defiant Thomas was in his declaration, how he limited himself.

I will not believe.

Thomas had conditions for believing – three of them. Perhaps those conditions were not entirely unreasonable. Perhaps they were not unreasonable at all! But he intractably declared that if these conditions were not met, he would not believe.

When we draw lines in the sand, we box ourselves in. We tell God what is possible. We tell God what we will and will not believe. We don’t leave room for wild and unimaginable (and true) things like resurrection, incarnation, transformation and salvation. We draw a line, and we stay on the safe side.

It’s a shame to miss out on so much.

I’m still sympathetic to Thomas because I know I have my own conditions, my own demands. We all do. Can we be more aware of them? Can we try to let them go? Can we stop drawing lines so God can tell us the truth? Can we believe based on the word of another? Can we let the unimaginable be...real?

Jesus had sympathy for Thomas, too. He made a special trip out to see him. He invited Thomas to have his conditions met – see the marks, put your fingers here, place your hand here, in my side. “Believe,” he urged Thomas.

Jesus won’t give up on us, even if our faith is limited. But how free and wise and faithful we can be, if we believe without conditions.  How free and wise and faithful we can be if we place no limits on what God can do, or where he might be, or how the declaration “He is Risen!” may play out in our own lives.

There are many ways to place our hands in the side of Jesus, close to his heart. So in the spirit of Easter, let us not limit God, or ourselves.

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas, Francois-Joseph Navez, 1823.

The Poetry of Easter

Our friend Scott Eagan speaks the poetry of life restored!  In this holiest of seasons, may your hearts speak "the most beautiful word ever uttered in any language" to one another.

Happy Easter, friends!

“SUNDAY

Very early
on the first day of the week
when the sun had just risen…

in the darkness of a new tomb hewn out of rock
a naked man steps out of his burial linen
the Son of Man clothed in Light
marked with Passion
and places his foot upon the stony earth.

The Lamb who had been slain and shorn and silenced
Jesus the Christ arises, returning from death robed in glory.

He strides through the rolled-away-stone opening
startling the disbelievers
wiping away every Mary’s tears
encouraging all the disciples
and opening the radiant Flower of everlasting Life.

He greets those who wait
and those who had run away
with the most beautiful word
ever uttered in any language – Shalom
Peace.

He is Risen. Alleluia!”

— Scott Eagan, April 16, 2017