Pentecost C
Bad joke warning…
What
did the fireman say
when he saw the church on fire?
“Holy
smoke!”
(You
can’t say I didn’t warn you!)
Especially
given the history here,
it
should certainly get your attention to hear me say:
How I’d love to see the Church
burning!
Now,
don’t get me wrong:
I’m
not talking about the building.
The
Church, of course,
isn’t made up of four walls and a roof;
the
Church is what’s left
when the building goes. (cf. G. Rulter)
It’s
the people—
the
living members of this Body of many parts—
that
I long to see set ablaze.
There
are many symbols used in the Scriptures
to
help us understand
the nature and workings of the Holy Spirit.
In
the Acts of the Apostles,
the
driving force of wind announces the Spirit’s presence;
like
the wind, we know not
from
where the Spirit comes nor where he goes,
but
recognize him by what his power moves.
This morning, I’d like to focus our attention
on another
symbol in particular,
and
that symbol is fire.
We
have a love/hate relationship with fire, don’t we?
We
have loud alarms in our homes to warn us of fire
and
large departments of committed volunteers
with
massive amounts of heavy equipment
whose
sole purpose is to put fires out.
That
is because fire destroys.
In
a sense, that’s the first work of the Holy Spirit.
There
are parts of the Church which ought to burn down—
areas
in need of transformation, of renewal, of reform.
Sure
enough, those places in the Church
calling
for renovation, restoration, or replacement
The
Church is a society of sinners;
her
faults are necessarily my own.
With
the almighty power to take down things
which
previously seemed indestructible,
the
Holy Spirit purges sin:
searching
out the shadowy corners of our hearts
and
gutting them of all that is not of God.
Quite
paradoxically, those parts of us
which
seem the most beyond God’s reach
are
actually the ones most susceptible to the Spirit’s fire:
when
wood is dead and dry, after all,
it
only takes a small spark to ignite it. (cf. E. Leseur)
As
St. Paul says, “Where sin has abounded,
grace
abounds all the more” (Rom 5:20).
Now,
despite fire’s destructive potential,
we
find ourselves rather unable to live without it.
We
need fire because fire warms.
we’ve
all spent the long winter months
depending
on some sort of flame to heat up our homes.
Likewise,
the Holy Spirit thaws out our often frozen wills.
As
a French spiritual writer once put it,
We need know nothing about the chemistry of
combustion
to
enjoy the warmth of a fire.
Holiness
is produced in us by the will of God
and
our acceptance of it. (Jean-Pierre de Caussade)
Not
knowing how to pray as we ought,
the
Holy Spirit intercedes on our behalf,
that
prayer might achieve its proper end:
not
that I work on God,
trying
to bend his will to mine,
but
that I allow God to work on me
and
his will to be done in my life.
And
we also need fire because fire gives
light.
Whether
from sun or candle or electric bulb,
if
it weren’t for flames, both big and small.
God’s
gift of the Holy Spirit gives light to the mind.
The
Spirit leads us into truth
by
undoing the isolating confusion of Babel:
restoring
us not only to clear communication—
hearing
God and his messengers
speaking in a language we can understand—
speaking in a language we can understand—
but
restoring us, too, to genuine communion,
both
with God and with one another.
The
Holy Spirit, whom the Father sends in Jesus’ name,
lights
our way on the dark and winding paths of this world
by
teaching us everything
and
reminding us of all that Christ told us.
The
fire of the Holy Spirit burns away sin,
warms
the heart, and enlightens the mind.
And
like elemental fire here below,
the Fire sent from heaven is meant to
spread.
Any
attempt to preserve the gifts of the Spirit
as purely
personal possessions
only
results in snuffing them out.
That’s
why I want—better yet, why we need—
to
see this Church catch fire:
because
this cold, dark world,
this
world weighed down by human sinfulness,
needs
desperately to catch fire.
That’s
not something we can achieve
by
implementing a clever program
or
embarking on a smart advertizing campaign.
Fire
is a driving force, an unyielding energy,
but
it can only transform what it touches—
and
what it touches,
it
transforms into nothing other than itself.
We
must let the Holy Spirit’s fire touch and transform us
so that,
through us, the same Spirit
might
touch the lives of those around us, one-by-one.
“If you are what you should be”—said
St. Catherine of Siena—
“you will set the world ablaze.”
A few years ago, an astute Catholic
pastor noted
how we’ve come to consider high
attendance
at Mass or other Church
functions
as a sure sign of success.
He went on to point out that,
on the great day of Pentecost,
the standard was a good bit
higher:
people had to be on fire. (cf.
M. Heher)
Oh, that we might see the
Church on fire!
Don’t say, “Holy smoke!”
Instead, pray, “Come, Holy
Spirit!”
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