What we are meant to be doing

 

 

I have said these things to you

while still with you;

but the Advocate, the Holy Spirit,

whom the Father will send in my name,

will teach you everything

and remind you of all that I have said to you.’ 

John 14:26

Twelve years ago I took a phone call from my mother. She had been long estranged from the Church - indeed, since the publication of Paul VI's encyclical Humanae vitae in 1968. But as she aged, she longed to return to the practice of a faith that she held deep in her heart. She had begun attending Mass, but hadn't taken communion. She needed encouragement and advice on the Sacrament of Penance, and was soon reconciled. As her health failed, one of the joys of her last few months was being anointed with the oil of healing in the Anointing of the Sick.  

The Pentecost experience is well known and much written about - including myself over the past 25 years - but I continue to wonder about what happened to - and in - the disciples in that upper room. John is clear that the Spirit is breathed on to the disciples on the evening of Easter Day (John 20:19, 22), while in Acts the Spirit arrives some 'days' later accompanied by tongues of fire and provided the disciples with the gift of speech. From Acts we learn that they spent time devoted to prayer (along with certain women) (Acts 1:14), and that they were in fear of the Jews (John 20:19), and they also chose Matthias by lot to replace Judas Iscariot (Acts 1:26).  

The fear about which John (v.19) writes is specifically about fear of the Jews. This assumes that the Jews were not satisfied with the outcome of Jesus' trial and execution - and that the conspiracy theory of Jesus' body being stolen (Matthew 28:13) was alive and well. So, I continue to assume that their fear was a fear of being found, of being accused falsely, of being summoned to trial - not, as some may suggest - that the disciples and their companions were all at sea over the loss of Jesus. 

That being so, tongues of fire appeared, followed by the disciples being 'filled with the Holy Spirit' and finally being given the gift of speech. What is the transition, the transformation that occurs when the Spirit is breathed upon them? Is it miraculous, or is it something more human? Two things, I suspect, happened - one, the disciples recognised truth - that in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus they could acknowledge with utter conviction that Jesus was indeed Lord, and two, this recognition/cognition caused their fear to be washed away. They became fearless.

As Andy Otto (in his blog 'Fearless' in God in all things) so succinctly explains: The Spirit empowered Peter and the Apostles to proclaim truth to the nations by helping them overcome their anxiety and have the freedom to express themselves, to courageously build new relationships, and to be fearless.

This confrontation with the truth would appear to be part of the self-realisation and -actualisation tier - the highest tier in Maslow's hierarchy. It is here that we believe we are doing what we are meant to be doing. And this is the disciples after the Pentecost 'event'. This is the liberation that comes from acknowledging and accepting Jesus as Lord. It's an uncomfortable truth but a transformational truth that enables and propels believers to speak out in every aspect of Gospel life.

The vast majority of us may never experience the gush and energy experienced by those first disciples at Pentecost, we will, like my mother, come quietly to a conclusion, allow ourselves to be slowly transformed by God's love into clearer images of Christ himself. We then will know all too clearly that we are doing what we are meant to be doing.

 Peter Douglas

  

Speaking the same language was not what mattered: it was the ability to listen.

 

 

Richard Leonard SJ

There are two Pentecost traditions in the gospels. The first one, in John 20, has Jesus bequeath the Spirit on the same day as the Resurrection. Then, in Acts 2, we have the vivid version which is celebrated in our liturgical calendar. The word “Pentecost”, from the Greek word meaning “fiftieth”, was first given in the Old Testament to the Feast of Weeks, Shavuot, falling on the fiftieth day after Passover. Christians celebrate Pentecost on the fiftieth day after Easter Sunday and at the end of the seventh week.

Numbers matter in the Bible. In the Old Testament, 50 was the year of jubilee because it was rare for people to live beyond their fiftieth birthday. Of the many features of a jubilee year, three were consistent: slaves were set free; debts were cancelled; and fields for crops were allowed to lie fallow. This meant there was no such thing as lifetime slavery among the Israelites; that they aimed for no cross-generational poverty; and that they cared for the environment.

What Christians celebrate on Pentecost Sunday is that the power of the Spirit is unleashed on us because we have been set free from the slavery of our sin by Christ, all our debts have been forgiven in Christ and we are recreated as a new creation through Christ. Pentecost is meant to see us live as free sons and daughters of God, a people who forgive as we have been forgiven and who care for God’s Creation.

The second element of the story in Acts 2 is equally challenging. If you’re like me, you will have been taught that the most public gift on display at the first Pentecost was that a tongue of fire rested on each of the Apostles, they were filled with the Holy Spirit and had the ability to speak in different languages. But a more careful reading of the story reveals that the gift received that day was not only one of speaking, but equally one of hearing. Luke, the author of Acts, recounts how the crowds that gathered to hear the Apostles asked: “How is it that in our own language we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power?” Not only was the gift of tongues given to the earliest disciples, but their hearers received “the gift of ears”.

When it comes to listening in the Church today, some people mistake uniformity for unity. At the first Pentecost, the earliest Christians had no such difficulty; they knew that speaking the same language was not what mattered: it was the ability to carefully listen, and to hear the Gospel being spoken in different languages. The first Christians were a very complex and diverse bunch. Like the Church today, they had great struggles to deal with, inside as well as outside the community. Within a few years of the first Pentecost, there were fierce disagreements between Peter and Paul over Jewish and Gentile converts. Some were for Paul, and some were for Apollos. Some died for the faith and others betrayed their Christian brothers and sisters to the authorities.

Pentecost faith holds that while we build our faith on that of the believers who have gone before us, we also have a responsibility to listen to our contemporary culture and to bring it into dialogue with the Gospel. That’s why courage is one of the Holy Spirit’s pre-eminent gifts. We are not asked to retreat from the world. We are sent out to enter into conversation with it, affirming what we see to be good, and unashamedly standing against whatever, we see demeans or oppresses or is life-denying.

This is why we should ask the Holy Spirit to hone our ears as well as to prepare our tongues, so we are equipped to hear and discern as well as to proclaim the Gospel of Christ in the marketplaces of our own day and age. To talk of the things of God in an increasingly secular world requires prudence and wisdom: we must listen before we speak.

Towards the end of Acts 2, we hear a list of the marks of the first followers of Jesus that is as extraordinary now as it was then. If we take Christ’s Spirit as our own, then we too will be filled with awe and be open to signs and wonders; will sell our possessions and distribute the proceeds to those who need them most; will be filled with praise for how God works in and through the world; will discover Christ’s presence in the “breaking of the bread”; and will be joined every day by others wanting to share our joy and fellowship. If we live this out with courage and prudence and wisdom, then we too will be recreated and renew the face of the earth.

Richard Leonard is an Australian Jesuit. His latest book is The Law of Love: Modern Language for Ancient Wisdom (Paulist, 2021). This article appeared in The Tablet, 21 May 2021.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Words from the heart

 

 

"This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.  No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father." 

John 15:12 - 15

My father-in-law, about whom I have written on several occasions, passed away after a very short illness at the end of March. He spent his last three years living with us in our home. A car mechanic and later a car valuer, the sound of Jim's shuffling walk through the house, his inquisitiveness about the movements and activities of his grandchildren and great grandchildren, his penchant for cars, Keno and the horses, his generosity and humour will be terribly missed. Jim didn't leave any diaries or words of wisdom. He left us love.

Others may leave memoirs, beautifully published, that family members may consult. Some record special events, daily activities and quiet, reflective thoughts. There are those who bequeath a musical opus, others the remnants of their poetic genius.

The great and the famous have words written about them, Julius Caesar, Wellington, Bismarck, Washington, Churchill. But we are ordinary folk, whose lives are recorded by past calendars that highlight dental appointments and family get-togethers, can and do leave words that will impact on our children. They may not make the annals of well- and oft-quoted proverbs and phrases, but be assured they will be remembered.

In John 15 (9 – 17) Jesus leaves words that are printed upon the hearts and minds of every Christian, for they are not just a standard bearer for Christianity - they are a guide for good living for all, and a pathway to building God’s kingdom. These words are Jesus’ bequest to us. But it is clear that these words are not just to be spoken and repeated to one another, they are to be enacted, made real and lived out through gesture and action.

And this is what the words and story you leave your children must equally do. What would I say? Know that I really love you and will always love you. This is not a command or commandment, it is a statement of fact projected into the distant and eternal future. How will they know these words are important and to be always remembered? I will tell them over and over, and my gestures, words, actions and prayers will constantly affirm them. So, by all means have some words that you can pass on to your child, but they should be words that complete the life you have already lived together.

As disciples of Jesus we have never been perfect in acting out his commandment to love others, it is a work in progress, like us. It is the journey that matters.

Peter Douglas

 

 

Did Saul actually fall off his horse on the road to Damascus?

Conversion of St Paul by Caravaggio

By Hector Molina

He more than likely did not. It is commonly assumed that Rabbi Saul was thrown from his horse on the road to Damascus. This assumption has been reinforced by several artistic depictions, including Caravaggio’s “Conversion on the Way to Damascus” and “Conversion of St. Paul” (1601).  However, nowhere does the New Testament make mention of Saul being thrown from his horse. In fact, it doesn’t even make mention of Saul traveling by horse!

Each of the three accounts of Saul’s miraculous conversion (Acts 9:3-4, 22:6-7, 26:12-14) asserts that Saul, upon seeing the light from heaven, fell to the ground. Most people assume that because Saul was en route to Damascus, he must have been traveling by horse at the very moment when the heavenly light appeared. This blinding light caused him and those accompanying him to fall from their horses to the ground. This is highly improbable. The reason being that St. Luke, the author of Acts, in two of his three accounts of the conversion of Saul, furnishes us with a clue that sheds light on what Saul was more than likely doing when he fell to the ground. See if you can pick it out.

“As I made my journey and drew near to Damascus, about noon a great light from heaven suddenly shone about me. And I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?’” (Acts 22:6-7)

“Thus I journeyed to Damascus with the authority and commission of the chief priests. At midday, O king, I saw on the way a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, shining round me and those who journeyed with me. And when we had all fallen to the ground, I heard a voice saying to me in the Hebrew language, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?’” (Acts 26:12-14)

Each of these passages establishes the exact time of day when the heavenly light appeared that caused him to fall to the ground. It was midday. An important detail to be sure. Some commentators point out that this was to show that there was no delusion from nightly appearances. In other words, because it was broad daylight, his eyes could not have played tricks on him. Others posit the theory that Saul was more than likely not riding his horse at noon because that was an established time of prayer. We know that Pharisees prayed three times throughout the course of the day in imitation of King David, who wrote:

"But I call upon God, and the LORD will save me. Evening and morning and at noon." (Psalm 55:16-17)

[Note: These three times were, nine in the morning, which was their third hour of the day, (see Acts 2:15); the sixth hour was at twelve o’clock (see Acts 10:9); the ninth hour was our three in the afternoon , which was the time of the evening sacrifice (see Acts 10:30)]

Every day at noon, pious Jewish men recited prayers while standing on their feet and facing toward Jerusalem as was their custom (see Daniel 6:10-11). As Catholic author D Taylor Marshall suggests in his book, The Catholic Perspective on Paul, it is quite possible that Saul, the zealous Pharisee that he was, observed midday prayer on that day as he travelled along the road to Damascus. This would have meant that he was likely standing erect and facing south to Jerusalem when he was blinded by the light of Christ and fell to the ground.

Quite an appropriate time to have an encounter with God, wouldn’t you say?

https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/did-saul-actually-fall-off-his-horse-on-the-road-to-damascus