From Where I Sit                             Judith Lynch (Melbourne)                        Judith's previous articles       Judith's website    


May 26, 2012                                                     
WIND AND FIRE  

Something about Pentecost tugs at me, a feeling that suggests a swirly, floaty red dress, lit candles and a birthday party. At Mass I listen to the lector read an account of that initial Pentecost experience, all about winds and fire and open doors and something of its breathless excitement creeps through to me. For a few minutes I’ll feel a surge of joy and relief that in this business of being a full time, every day follower of Jesus not all the following involves cross carrying, that I don’t have to do it all on my own.

The images of Pentecost tell us what words struggle to express. Who hasn’t longed for the cool change that follows a spell of oppressive summer heat, followed by the rush to open windows and doors to the refreshing breeze. It brings relief mixed with a bit of euphoria. That’s a Pentecost feeling.

Then there’s fire. We are familiar with paintings that show the disciples gathered in a tidy circle, Mary in the middle, each topped with a hovering flame. Maybe it happened like that, maybe it didn’t. What I do know is that moment or experience when I feel fired up, nothing can stop me, I can take on the world. That’s a Pentecost feeling.

It’s difficult to capture that Pentecost feeling in the Church today. Cradle catholics, those of us who were baptised as babies, can become very ho-hum about the gift of faith that we have been given. We pare it down, limit it to devotional practices that in themselves are perfectly acceptable. But, like potato chips left in an open bowl, these devotions eventually lose their crispness and flavour, become stale. Most of us slotted religion into our week and left the Pentecost evangelisation to priests, religious and missionaries.  

Catholics don’t get very good press these days. Our Bishops are under fire, sometimes rightfully so. The sins of a few have brushed against us all. Some use it as an excuse to walk away, others bunker down and wait for the good old days to return. They never will. And I wonder: where is the Spirit of God in all this pain, confusion, anger and outright indifference. More correctly, I am challenged to recognise the voice and the actions of the Spirit of God amongst what is. Jesus promised the Spirit would be with us for ever. That promise is why I get a kick out of Pentecost.  I know, from experience, that in my efforts to live out being Church, I am not alone. I have the support, the encouragement, the get-up-and-go of the Spirit of God.  

The spin put on matters religious by noisy media and doubtful practitioners of so-called spirituality is not the whole picture. This week I led a day retreat for a group of ten women. Every month I meet with other small groups who gather to reflect on their faith journey. All these are ordinary people – women and men, married, single, divorced, living out their faith in paid employment, in volunteer work, in retirement. They are prayerful people, struggling to identify the cool breeze voice of the Spirit amongst the babble of the twenty first century voices. Amongst these people and others like them is where I find my Pentecost Church .

 

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