As I mentioned in my homily last Sunday concerning Pentecost, the fruit of the third of the Glorious Mysteries of our Blessed Mother's Rosary- the descent of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost- is God's love for us. In Saint John's Last Supper Discourse, from whence comes the bulk of our Sunday Gospel readings during this Easter season (Year A of the three-year Sunday lectionary), Jesus tells his closest disciples: "But I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go. For if I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you" (John 16:7).
Especially in light of the reality that the Holy Spirit has never been absent, why does Jesus say it is necessary to depart for the Spirit to come? It seems prudent to note that in the first instance it is a mystery. This means that any and all attempts to answer this question fall short of the mystery. But this doesn't mean we must pass over this singular aspect of the multi-dimensional Paschal Mystery in silence. One way I have come to think about this takes as necessary premises that after his resurrection, the Holy Spirit becomes the mode of Christ's resurrection presence in and for the world, which means that the Church, the ekklesia, the assembly of God in Christ, animated- empowered- by the Holy Spirit, becomes the sacrament of salvation in and for the world.
Getting to the point, by becoming present through the Holy Spirit, the risen Lord can be closer to us than if he were "here" and standing "over there," as it were. At least in the context of the Gospel according to John, again, during the Last Supper Discourse, Jesus uses a lot of 'in" language: "I am in the Father." "The Father is in me." "If you have seen me you have seen the Father." Perhaps looking forward to Pentecost- but maybe not from a historical-critical perspective- Jesus tells his close followers that after they have received "the Spirit of truth" they "will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you" (John 14:17.20).
My reason for drawing attention to Jesus's in language in the Last Supper Discourse is to make the point that how the risen Lord comes to be in us is by the power of the Holy Spirit. This, of course, brings us almost reflexively to sacraments and to the Eucharist, the sacrament of sacraments, the Most Blessed Sacrament, in particular. In the Eucharist, Jesus comes to be "in" us by the proclamation of the word, which happens aurally. The word of God is very important. So important, in fact, that without it the Eucharist is incomprehensible. This is a major theme in the Emmaus episode from Saint Luke's Gospel (see Luke 24:13-35). Then comes our reception of Holy Communion, which happens orally. Ultimately, sacraments, even when properly understood as symbolic signs (sacraments are signs and symbols or they are nothing at all), are pretty concrete.
The Ascension, by Benjamin West, 1801
One advantage, especially in these times, is that the vast majority of us- certainly anyone reading this- has access to God's word- the Sacred Scriptures. We need to remember, especially now, we do not live by bread alone but by every word that comes from God's mouth. As no less than a Doctor of the Church, Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, averred: "No doubt it is a great grace to receive the sacraments; but when God does not permit it, it is good nonetheless, everything is a grace." Perhaps consider learning how to "do" a Liturgy of the Word with your family during these times. The Church's lectionary is a great treasure, one too little cherished.
It is by the Holy Spirit's illumination that the word of God comes not only to inform us but to shape and form us. From the opening verses of sacred writ, we come to see that God's word is creative. He spoke everything into existence. We need to let God "make" us through the power of his divine word. This is why there is no reason for us to stand around gazing up at the sky (see Acts 1:11).
By his ascending to the Father, the Son, our Lord and Savior, can be nearer to us, not farther away. To receive the Holy Spirit, then, is to level your gaze. By leveling your gaze, you live as a Spirit-filled disciple of Jesus Christ. Inherent to being a disciple of Jesus Christ being a missionary, one who evangelizes, a person who seeks to spread the good news. Is this not the gist of our Gospel reading today? In today's Gospel we hear again the so-called "Great Commission," in which our risen Lord bids us to "make disciples of all nations" (Matthew 28:19). The good news is spread primarily by loving your neighbor as you love yourself. This requires diakonia, serving others in selfless and often inconvenient ways.
Whether Saint Francis of Assisi said it or not (probably not), it is important to preach the Gospel by using words only when we must. As someone noted on "Catholic" Twitter this week: "the positive apologetic is the christian life of loving one's neighbor, and that's insanely hard." The Spirit is given us to make it, not easy, but possible, even to the point of forgiving us when we fail. After all, "everything is a grace."
Because in and through Christ everything is a grace we can have hope. By accepting everything as a grace we come to realize that hope is not optimism. Rather, we learn through experience, even if sometimes painfully, that hope lies beyond optimism. Hope is the fruit of the second of the Glorious Mysteries of the Virgin Mary's Holy Rosary, which invites us to reflect on the Ascension of the Lord; an unfathomable mystery.
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