I must admit I find it difficult to gather my thoughts about Pentecost each year. Why? I think because of the sheer abundance of this feast. Our Introit for Mass today draws us into the mystery:
“The Spirit of the Lord has filled the whole world and that which contains all things understands what is said, alleluia.” (Wis 1:7)
The Spirit which fills the whole world is spoken of in so many different ways in Scripture and Tradition, we can become lost in the profusion of images and concepts. Wind, water, fire, consoler, advocate, gift, unifier, sanctifier, the love of the Trinity poured out. Where does one begin? Only that which contains all things understands what is said. The rest of us have to be content to dwell with the mystery, to let us wash over us in waves, first one aspect and then another, at one moment a loud noise and a violent wind, at another a soft breeze and still small voice. The beauty of this feast is just this, that we cannot grasp or control it, just as we cannot grasp or control our unmanageable God. “The Spirit breathes where he wills, and you hear his voice, but do not know whence he comes or where he goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” (Jn 3:8)
Bl. Christian de Cherge has a homily for Pentecost, in which he places the feast in the context of the Easter mystery. He describes Easter as a feast of faith, Ascension as a feast of hope and Pentecost as a feast of love.
Easter: feast of faith, a time to be drawn out from the tomb, amazed, overwhelmed, doubtful and unbelieving. A time to be asked: “Do you believe in me, Thomas?” (Jn 20:29), to touch his hands and his feet, to look into his wounds and to receive his peace. We are given forty days to come to know the risen One in his familiar strangeness.
Ascension: feast of hope, a time to look up to heaven with confusion and longing. We are now asked to take a step further, to let this One go from us, so as to return to us more intimately: “And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also” (Jn 14:3). To live in longing is not comfortable; it puts us forever on edge, looking up, looking forward, expecting, waiting. But it is the only honest way of approaching a God who transcends us, even as he is, in St Augustine’s words, nearer to us than we are to ourselves.
Pentecost: feast of love, a time to look out at the world, at those around us, with the newfound confidence of one who senses the powerful movement of the Spirit within, creating, encompassing, loving all that he has made. The image that comes to me is of a child tottering forward, letting go of its parent’s hands as it finds delight in moving out into life, in discovering, in becoming, in growing to full stature.
The Church's teaching speaks of a universal call to holiness. Lumen Gentium says that:
“All the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status, are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity; by this holiness as such a more human manner of living is promoted in this earthly society. … The classes and duties of life are many, but holiness is one—that sanctity which is cultivated by all who are moved by the Spirit of God, and who obey the voice of the Father and worship God the Father in spirit and in truth. … Every person must walk unhesitatingly according to his own personal gifts and duties in the path of living faith, which arouses hope and works through charity.” (Lumen Gentium, V: 40-41)
Pope Francis builds on this teaching the Apostolic Letter Gaudete et Exsultate, where he speaks of the call to holiness as a personal gift placed in the heart of each person, along with the capacity to discern their own path:
“Do not be afraid of holiness. It will take away none of your energy, vitality or joy. On the contrary, you will become what the Father had in mind when he created you, and you will be faithful to your deepest self. To depend on God sets us free from every form of enslavement and leads us to recognize our great dignity. … Do not be afraid to set your sights higher, to allow yourself to be loved and liberated by God. Do not be afraid to let yourself be guided by the Holy Spirit. Holiness does not make you less human, since it is an encounter between your weakness and the power of God’s grace. For in the words of León Bloy, when all is said and done, “the only great tragedy in life, is not to become a saint.” (Gaudete et Exsultate, 1:32, 34)
This understanding of holiness as becoming oneself, as the Spirit creating us, is attractive. We rejoice to see things come into their own, as they are meant to be, especially at such a beautiful time of year – a rhododendron in full flower, the glory of green grass. We remember how St Irenaeus wrote that the glory of God is the human person fully alive. But this becoming gifted by the Spirit is not only focused on individuals. The Spirit of Pentecost constitutes a people – God’s people: “We are never completely ourselves unless we belong to a people. That is why no one is saved alone, as an isolated individual. Rather, God draws us to himself, taking into account the complex fabric of interpersonal relationships present in a human community. God wanted to enter into the life and history of a people.” (Gaudete et Exsultate, 1:6)
Pope Francis has more than once emphasized in his Pentecost homilies this point about unity and diversity. How the false unity of Babel gives way to confusion, which is recapitulated on Pentecost by the tongues that divide and bring about mutual comprehension and communion. The Pope speaks of the false roads of a diversity without unity, where each person goes off in their own way and the community disintegrates, or unity without diversity, where persons are stifled within a constraining uniformity. I think this point is worth reflecting on carefully, since the Pope mentioned it in his address to our General Chapter, as well as in his address to the Order of Cistercians. Perhaps this is a time in which the Spirit is in the process of bringing together these two key dimensions of the dignity and uniqueness of the person and our existence as a people, a community.
Our cry today is: “Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of the faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love.” The love poured into our hearts is social in form: “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control” (Gal 5:22-3). The Spirit empowers us both to become our unique self and also, without contradiction, to become part of a people that walks together toward God. With this in mind, we continue our custom of receiving a gift and a fruit of the Spirit as a symbol of God’s work in our life and our community.
Image: Dove of the Holy Spirit, Alabaster window by Gian Lorenzo Bernini, 1660, St. Peter’s Basilica, Vatican City