Breath of Life

We do it so often we don’t even think about it – about 16 times per minute, 1000 times per hour, 23,000 times per day. Over the course of a lifetime, the average human being breathes in and breathes out some 600 million times, only a small fraction of which are we actually aware of. Breathing is fundamental to being alive, so fundamental that we must be able to do it unconsciously, without having to think about it first.

Because breathing is fundamental to being alive, it is not a coincidence that we often use breath as a metaphor for life. For example, in the Book of Genesis, we are told that God breathed life into the first man (Gen 2:7). To be a living creature at all was to have this breath of life (Gen 7:22), a power connected to his own Spirit, which before all of creation moved like a wind over the waters of the deep (Gen 1:2). At other times in the Scriptures, we hear how the Spirit of God comes upon particular individuals at particular times – most notably, the prophets – moving them to accomplish what he has planned. All of these images are connected; breath, and spirit, and wind are all different ways of translating the same Hebrew word: ruah. Throughout the Old Testament, we see how the ruah of God is his Spirit, breathing life, and moving like a powerful wind to accomplish what he wills. And finally, of course, in the New Testament, God’s Spirit comes upon Jesus himself, visibly in his baptism, and then animating him throughout his earthly ministry.

Vigil Mass: But here’s a question: with all of these Scriptural references to the Spirit, why did we just hear in the Gospel that “There was, of course, no Spirit yet, because Jesus had not yet been glorified.”? The answer is found in our first reading. The prophet Joel says that there will come a day when God will pour his Spirit “upon all flesh.” This isn’t just the general state of being alive, the breath of life that living beings have. This is the Spirit coming upon all persons in the way that the prophets had it, in the way that Jesus had it. God wishes, Joel says, to send out his Spirit so that all persons are endowed not just with the earthly breath of life, but the very Breath, the very Spirit that is God himself.

Mass of the Day: But here’s a question: why did we just hear in the Gospel that Jesus “will send” the Spirit (Jn 15:26-27; 16:12-15)? Isn’t the Spirit already present in the world – in all of those Scriptural references that I mentioned, and in the very person of Jesus himself? What Jesus refers to must be something different than the general state of being alive, the breath of life that all living beings have, and it must be something different than the Spirit acting in one particular person. What Jesus means is that God will send his Spirit to all persons – to everyone who knows and is connected to his Son, so that the Spirit comes upon them in the same way that the prophets had it, in the same way that Jesus himself had it. This new gift of the Spirit will endow human beings not just with the earthly breath of life, but with the very Breath, the very Spirit that is God himself.

Today we mark the great Solemnity of Pentecost, the final feast of the Easter season and the celebration of how the Holy Spirit has indeed come upon humanity in a new way. In the first Pentecost, as the Acts of the Apostles relates, the disciples were gathered together when the room in which they were was filled with the noise of a driving wind – a ruah – and the Holy Spirit descended upon them like tongues of fire. The Spirit came forth to teach them, to fill them with zeal, to motivate them to continue what God had been doing by his Spirit in the world, and now would continue to do in a new way, present in human beings.

Pentecost (c. 1846) by Fidelis Schabat

That Pentecost event is repeated, not just symbolically but really, in every sacrament, most notably the sacraments of baptism and confirmation. All Christians, every one of the baptized, has been filled with the Holy Spirit in as real a way as the disciples were in that Upper Room. By God’s grace, by the very presence of God himself, we are alive in a new way – not just with the earthly breath of life, but with the eternal life of God’s very Spirit. Within our very selves, we have the presence of God teaching us, filling us with zeal, motivating us to accomplish his will.

How do we accomplish God’s will? The first step is to seek it consciously. We can breathe naturally on our own, without thinking, as I mentioned before. But breathing with God’s Spirit is different – it can’t be done unconsciously, unthinkingly, but must be engaged with our intellect and our will, for it is in those faculties of the human soul that the Holy Spirit operates. So, if you want to be holier, if you want a deeper relationship with God, if you want to know more fully what God wants for your life, if you want to know how God is asking you to serve him – then there is no substitute for asking the Holy Spirit to show you. The Holy Spirit, breathing within your soul, can show you what he alone knows, if you seek him in prayer. As those who have been given the Spirit, we must be continually asking him – consciously, intentionally – to show us what God desires for us.

Once we have done that, and learned to continue to do that in a habitual way, then the hard part is over – God will act, he will show us, and we only have to trust him enough to be carried along for the ride. The Spirit, the mighty breath of God, will carry us like the wind if we are humble enough to let him do so, to be moved by him in that way. He will teach us his truth, console us with his presence, fill us with us fruits – unless we frustrate his action, unless we turn away from his grace, resist his movement, reject his prompting. That is why the greatest prayer we can offer to the Holy Spirit is to ask him to show us his will and make us docile in accepting it.

Friends, we breathe in and out hundreds of millions of times over the course of our lives, but in the end, the fullness of life comes not from our own powers but from the breath of God, the Holy Spirit. He breathes life not only into our bodies but into our eternal souls, but we will not receive the fullness of that life if we are not aware of it, engaging with him and seeking his will in prayer. May this time of Pentecost renew within us the conscious purpose to seek God’s will each day, so that as we celebrate the gift of him who dwells within us, we may learn to be docile to the Spirit wherever he may lead.

What the Future Holds

Of all the kinds of fear we can have, perhaps the most common is fear of the unknown. Whether in work or family life, we tend to not like it when things are outside of our control. Just consider our experience of the pandemic; so much of our discomfort and fear was because we didn’t know who was sick and who wasn’t, we didn’t know how bad it would get or when it would improve. Recently, as things have gotten better for us locally – thanks be to God! – we feel more secure because we feel we have a better sense of what the future holds.

In today’s first reading, the apostles ask Jesus what the future holds: “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” They want some sense of certitude about what is going to happen next. But Jesus doesn’t given them that; he says it is not for them to know “the times or the seasons” for those things which God alone can know. Instead, what he tells them is that they will be given the gift of the Holy Spirit to help them in what they must do here and now. The task at hand, the task that he gives them right before he ascends to heaven, is to be his witnesses “to the ends of the earth.”

The Ascension (c. 1530) by Dosso Dossi

There is an important truth to be understood here. When we look to the future, to things unknown, we can sometimes spend too much time and energy focusing on things that are outside of our control – things that may happen or may not – and not enough on the present tasks right in front of us. There is nothing wrong, of course, in planning for the future and trying to be responsible and prepared for what may come. But when we allow the unknowns to become our primary consideration – emotionally, if nothing else – then we miss out on doing is what to be done right now, in the present moment.

What is more, sometimes without even knowing it, we can give ourselves over to fear rather than to trust in God. Jesus assured the disciples that they will be given heavenly assistance in carrying out the work that he has given them to do. That divine help is not something abstract or impersonal but is the presence the Holy Spirit. In the trials of our daily lives, in the ups and downs of family, work, relationships, taking care also of ourselves and our own wellbeing, God himself, God the Holy Spirit, assists us in those things and gives us the consolation of his presence. It’s so important to always remember: we are not alone! That may seem counterintuitive to say when today’s feast is about Jesus no longer being physically present on earth. But the Lord ascended to heaven not to leave us alone but precisely to send us his presence in a wholly new way, through the power of his Spirit.

The Holy Spirit himself is invisible, but that he is active and present in our lives should be something visible for others to see. That’s what Jesus means when he calls his disciples to be his “witnesses” – witnesses not in the sense of passive onlookers, but in the sense of those who give witness, who testify to others about the truth and love of God. In all those situations of daily life that I mentioned, we have the ability not just to get through them, to make do in the best way we can – we have the opportunity to really make them moments of showing others the strength we find in the Good News. This doesn’t mean we have to be loud or showy; we can give witness to Jesus in simple yet profound ways. If those around us are filled with worry, perhaps we suggest the value of turning to God in prayer, and then offer to lead them in praying. If uncertainties abound, or there is the temptation to despair, maybe we remind ourselves and others that our hope lies not in anything in this world but in the life to come. Perhaps it means choosing in love to have mercy and seek the good of someone who has wronged us, when others would prefer to be outraged or seek vengeance. Often, doing what is right precisely when and because it is hard is just the way to be a witness to the world of the love of Christ.

Friends, while there are many unknowns we deal with each day, ultimately, we are moving always toward something we do know – that the Lord who ascended to heaven will one day return again. Until that day, let’s not let our fears hold us back from the present task he has given us – to be his witnesses, in all that we do. We may not always know what the future holds, but we know the one who holds it, for he himself is the future joy for all who trust in him. May this Eucharist provide us renewed confidence in the presence of his Spirit among us so that in all things we may bear his name to the ends of the earth.

Called to Friendship

Recently, I was talking with someone – not someone here at the parish, but a priest in a different state – and it became clear to me that he and I had two different ideas about our relationship. I thought of us as professional acquaintances, perhaps colleagues, but he clearly thought of us as something closer to friends. As this realization occurred to me, at first I was surprised, and then after a moment, I felt a little guilty. He valued our relationship in a way that I didn’t, in a way that I had not thought about before. And I thought: what does this mean, then, going forward? Is friendship something I want?

In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells the disciples that he considers them to be his friends. I wonder if some of them would have been a bit taken aback by this. Maybe they viewed him as their Master, their teacher, their leader. They had followed him because he had something they wanted: wisdom, purpose, knowledge of God and eternal life. But friendship was something different; friendship entails an affinity, a likeness, a sharing of viewpoint and values – a sharing of loves. Was that something they wanted? Were they ready for that?

 

Duccio di Buoninsegna, "Christ Taking Leave of the Apostles," Maestà Altarpiece (1311)

And what about us? If we’re honest, maybe the idea of being friends with Jesus makes us a bit uncomfortable. Most of us probably tend to think of our relationship with the Lord in the transactional way that the disciples did. We want his wisdom, his guidance, his blessing; we are glad to follow him and keep his commandments, if that means he will give us what we want. But to be friends with Jesus means something more. It means there must be a likeness between him and us, a willingness to being changed so that his values becomes our values, his loves become our loves. Jesus says that we are his friends when we do as he does, when we love as he has loved us – love that lays down its life, love exemplified on the Cross.

Are we ready for that? Is friendship with the Lord something we want? Because that is what he wants – it’s what he calls us to and calls us to be. Maybe we don’t always realize that – maybe we are surprised at times to find that he values his relationship with us even more than we might. In the end, all the things we want from life, even the good things we want from God – his wisdom and guidance and blessing – they are only valuable if they also lead us to friendship with Christ, because only the friends of Christ – those who know him, and love him, and love as he loves – will be brought with him through death into eternal life. Let’s make that our goal, then, each day, asking the Lord to help us here and now to love as he loved, so that one day we may be where he is.

Remain in Me

There is an old saying that perhaps you have heard before: “If you’re not moving forward, you’re moving backward.” This idea is often used in business, but it can extend to other things, too – sports, politics, social justice, science and technology, even personal relationships like friendships or marriage. The idea in all these areas is that it is impossible to maintain a status quo: either you are trying to move forward, to improve and progress, or else you are falling behind.

This notion also has relevance for our relationship with God. In our spiritual lives, we are always either moving forward or moving backward; there is no middle ground. But our spiritual lives differ in one important way from those other endeavors I mentioned earlier: God acts alongside us. In today’s Gospel, Jesus commands his disciples to go and bear fruit; bearing fruit is the measure by which every disciple will be judged. Notice, though, *how* Jesus commands them to bear fruit. He doesn’t say, “Work really hard,” or “Pray a lot.” Rather, he says, “Remain in me.” Remaining – remaining in Jesus – is the first step in bearing fruit. In fact, Jesus says it is not possible to bear fruit unless we begin exactly there, by remaining in him: “without me you can do nothing,” he says.

Abbott Fuller Graves, Flowering Vines on Palm Tree (c. 1930)

This is so important for understanding our spiritual lives correctly. It can be very easy to fall into the trap of thinking we can do it all by ourselves, or that we have to: that God wants us to strive and struggle on our own to be good, to do what he commands, thereby proving ourselves worthy of him. This idea has been around a long time, and it is not just unhelpful – it is dangerously wrong. The idea that we don’t need God’s help to be good, or that he wants us to somehow be good apart from him, was condemned long ago as the heresy of Pelagianism, but it still pops up all the time in different and subtle ways. Instead, the Church teaches that we need the grace of God to be good, to fulfill his commandments, to bear fruit, exactly as Jesus says the Gospel, and, what’s more, God wants to give us that grace.

If we need God’s help, and God wants to help us, then why can the spiritual life be so hard at times? The answer is often that we fail at that first step: remaining in him. If we don’t fall victim to thinking we can do it on our own, then we allow something else to knock us out of relationship with him – what we call sin. Every day we face temptations to sin that threaten to pull us out of the relationship of grace we have in Christ, temptations that come both from diabolical influence (which sounds scary, but it is how the devil most often tries to bother us) as well as from human weakness: our ingrained bad habits, our shifting temperaments, all the ups and downs of daily lived experience. Jesus tells us to remain in him precisely because he knows we will face constant challenges in doing just that. The starting point, then, in bearing fruit must always be him, not us: his grace, his action, his work.

That doesn’t mean, however, that we are passive. Having received his grace, we do have to make progress, as I said at the beginning – moving forward so as not to fall behind. A good analogy of how to think of progress in our spiritual lives is a story we all learned as children, the fable of the tortoise and the hare. The slow and cautious tortoise challenges the quick but boastful hare to a race. The hare is so confident that he will win that, halfway through the race, he decides he has time to take a nap; he wakes up just in time to see the tortoise about to cross the finish line. In the spiritual realm, the temptation is to be the hare: to be overconfident in our own abilities or to feel very self-assured of our own spiritual position. But if we become lax in moving ahead, we may endanger our ability to finish the race well – to bear fruit by remaining in the grace of Christ until death. It is much better to imitate the tortoise: making slow and steady progress, little by little each day, keeping the focus on God so as not to become too confident in ourselves.

The Hare and the Tortoise (1809) by Samuel Howitt 

Perhaps then we can see how, in the end, our spiritual lives do involve striving and struggling – but never on our own, never apart from God, but always by remaining in him and calling upon his grace. For that reason, whenever we feel distant from God, or he from us, it is best to first consider whether we have allowed ourselves to drift away from him: perhaps falling out of our rhythm of prayer, perhaps not receiving the sacraments frequently, especially Eucharist and confession, perhaps by focusing our attention too much on ourselves and not enough on the Lord. Maybe what we need is to get plugged in again to Jesus, returning to remaining in him, receiving in a new way what he is already wanting to give us in order that we may bear fruit.

With the grace of this Eucharist, friends, let’s continue to make slow and steady progress in our spiritual lives, moving always forward, that as we remain in Jesus and he in us, we may go and bear fruit for him in the world.