Pentecost
May 19, 2013
Listen to this homily (.wma file)
I have always thought that Pentecost, with its wind and fire, its colors and its
sounds, speaks for itself and doesn’t need much commentary. But maybe a little
context can help.
Pentecost was a Jewish feast before it was ever a
Christian feast. On Pentecost, the Jews celebrated God’s gift of the Law to
them, the great moment when Moses came down from Mt. Sinai bearing the two stone
tablets. And our Christian Pentecost celebrates God’s Law, too, as St. John
Chrysostom observed in a Pentecost homily more than 1500 years ago. Pentecost,
he said, celebrates the moment when the disciples of Jesus “emerged from the
Cenacle carrying the New Law, the Law of the Spirit, a Law written not on stone
tablets but in their hearts.” At Pentecost, he said, the disciples became “a
living Law. They became books animated by the Holy Spirit.”
So that’s some of the context for this feast: Old Law,
New Law. But there’s more. Luke connects Pentecost to the Genesis story of
creation. In telling of the “strong, driving wind” that swept through the room
where the disciples were gathered, he brings to mind the Genesis moment when a
mighty wind swept over the waters of the abyss and God brought light out of
darkness. So, more context. Pentecost is creation: the New Creation.
And there is yet another Genesis story that gives
context for the Christian Pentecost. It’s the story of the building of the
Tower of Babel when people spoke a common language and became so powerful and
self-assured that they decided to build a great temple that would reach into the
heavens. They did this, Genesis tells us, because “they wanted to make a name
for themselves” – which is a nice way of saying that they were driven by pride
and ambition. If they could just build their tower high enough they would pierce
the heavens, steal God’s power, and become like God themselves. Of course,
when the tower collapsed, they ended up anything but like God. They ended up
all-too-human: divided, dispersed, and very dispirited.
Pentecost reversed the Babel story. At Pentecost there
was not just one language, there were many, but amazingly, when people from all
over the then-known world heard the preaching of the disciples, each heard them
speaking in his or her own tongue. Now, instead of division there was this
brilliant moment of unity as all came to understand and to believe. Now, instead
of people “making a name for themselves” we have God giving people His own name,
his own Spirit. And in that moment, they became like God!
So, context can definitely enhance our understanding of
Pentecost. But Pentecost also has a contemporary context – the context of today
– because, my friends, as you know, Pentecost didn’t just happen in the past,
Pentecost is happening right now. I hope we can feel that in this liturgy and,
more importantly, I hope we can know it every day. Shortly after his election,
Pope Francis gave a homily to some Vatican employees during morning Mass one day
at the House of St. Martha where he is living. In it he spoke of the Spirit who
is with us now and of our temptation to keep the Spirit at a distance, or
better, our tendency to “tame the Holy Spirit.”
“If I may speak plainly,” he said, “we want to tame
the Holy Spirit because the Spirit annoys us, the Spirit moves us, pushes us -
pushes the Church - to move forward, and we’d probably prefer it if the Spirit
would just keep quiet and not bother us!” As an example, he spoke of the
spirit-driven, spirit-filled event of the Second Vatican Council that took place
50 years ago. “We must not celebrate this anniversary,” he said, “by erecting a
monument to the Council. That will make sure that it doesn’t cause us any
bother. We will be like Peter at the Transfiguration who wanted to stay on the
mountaintop, build houses, and let the rest of the world go by.”
My friends, taming the Holy Spirit is a problem. It’s
time to let the Spirit bother us, annoy us, take us out of our comfort zone and
actually do something, because our comfort zone is a dead end.
Years ago, the Orthodox Patriarch of Antioch said all
this in a different way when he reflected on what the Church would be like
without the gift of the Holy Spirit. I quote:
“Without the Holy Spirit, God is distant, Christ is in
the past, the Gospel is a dead letter on a page, authority is domination,
mission, pure propaganda, worship, the conjuring up of spirits, and the Church
is just another organization. But with the Holy Spirit,” he said, “the Risen
Christ is alive in us here and now, the Gospel is the power that drives our
life, the Church is communion, authority is service, liturgy is participation
and anticipation, and human behavior is charged with divinity.”
That says it all, my friends. It is Pentecost -- the
New Creation, the coming of the Holy Spirit, the Spirit who renews the face of
the earth -- renews everything that is bruised or broken in our world and in our
lives, renews relationships between peoples and nations, relationships within
families, and even renews our relationship with God’s creation all around us.
So, may the Spirit come to us now -- in this church,
this Eucharist. May the Spirit annoy us, and disturb us, and push us out
of this church and into the streets, into our homes, our workplaces, into all
those places where faith and love, conviction and compassion, mercy and justice
can make a difference. “Send forth your Spirit and they will be created, and you
will renew the face of the earth!”
Father Michael G. Ryan
