Recall the moment you first rode a bicycle on your own, without training wheels or without assistance from your father, mother or older sibling. There was nervousness, tentativeness, and then a burst of confidence and joy, realizing you could do it.
Or, have you ever watched a child beginning to walk on his or her own? The tentative first steps, the balancing, looking back to see if someone is watching, and proceeding with confidence, laughing upon discovering a newfound freedom.
These moments give us a sense of spiritual freedom—a moment we see in today’s Gospel, the Feast of the Pentecost.
The disciples cowered in fear in the first few hours of their being “orphaned,” losing their teacher and leader. Then as the Risen Lord appeared, his first assurance was, “Peace be with you.” He calmed them down, understanding their fear and anxiety. The Risen Lord then gave the final assurance, showed them the wounds on his hands and side.
This is reminiscent of the episode when Jesus walked on water, which triggered panic in his disciples, who thought he was a ghost. Then Christ calmed them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” (Matthew 14: 27)
Call to action
In both instances, there is a “call to action” after the calm sets in. In Matthew, Jesus asks Peter to walk on water and come to him, but Peter falters and fails. In John, Jesus asks his disciples to continue his mission—started by 12 simple men, and I’m sure there were women in the team—to build one of the most remarkable human organizations.
Two similar contexts, but in the latter lies the “secret.” The disciples, having gone through the Cross, and in the presence of the Risen Lord, receive the Holy Spirit.
It was in peace and joy that they clearly understood their mission, and received the Holy Spirit to guide them in fulfilling this mission. It is this state of spiritual freedom that enables us to be open to the gift of the Holy Spirit, and makes possible our total dedication to what God wants us to do.
Fr. John English, SJ, emphasized spiritual freedom as the core goal or grace of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. Ignatius distinguishes between the first level of freedom, a freedom-from, and the deeper level of freedom, a freedom-to or a freedom-for.
He leads us through a process of self-awareness and self-acceptance that leads to a freedom from inordinate attachments, whether to good things or bad.
For example, Ignatius points out that one must not be attached either to a long or a short life, to poverty or riches, etc. This is the freedom-from, which makes more sense as we go deeper into the freedom-to or freedom-for.
Anything can be an inordinate attachment if it hinders our freedom to commit our life to what God wants us to do to make this world better, i.e., making his kingdom more present in our world.
Robert Johnson, in his book “The Fisher King and the Handless Maiden” writes: “The Grace of God is always available, but man must ask for it before it is effective.” We must ask for the grace of the Holy Spirit for it to make a difference in our life.
Offering and asking
This, the Pentecost experience is both an offering and an asking that leads to a radical reorientation and transformation of our life toward our mission, a life lived in love and service, expressed in concrete deeds.
This offering and asking are profoundly captured in Ignatius’ final prayer in the Spiritual Exercises, “Take and Receive,” in which he acknowledges everything he is and has are from God, and returns everything so he will become a more effective instrument of God’s will.
Then he asks, “Give me only your love and your grace; these make me rich, I ask for nothing more.”
This completes Ignatius’ Pentecost experience, and from this point on it was a life and mission lived with greater and greater magnanimity, setting the world on fire for the greater glory of God.
We are all blessed with a mission, and we are all blessed with a Pentecost experience.
On the Feast of the Pentecost, we ask for the grace of remembering that moments in our life when we sensed this Pentecost experience—the excitement of an infant discovering the freedom to walk; the confidence of a young girl during the first seconds of biking on her own; the awe of a young person who begins to sense life has meaning and purpose.
And as we remember, I share this prayer: “… Stir us, O Lord, to dare more boldly, to venture into wider seas where storms show Thy mastery, where losing sight of land, we shall find the stars; in the name of Him who pushed back the horizons of our hopes and invited the brave to follow. Amen.” (From “Disturb Us, O Lord,” attributed to Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu, adapted from an original prayer by Sir Francis Drake) —CONTRIBUTED