Lord, send out your Spirit

I had a break from work recently and spent some time in the country. When I arrived, I was overwhelmed by the surrounding beauty. There was a wafting mist across the paddocks, horses languidly feeding and land for as far as I could see. And then I noticed the silence of the stillness. It was a calm day, and I had an appreciation of the meaning of deafening silence – it took a little while to get used to it. As the day progressed and the light changed it was the wideness of the sky that struck me. So much sky. So many stars. The vastness of the universe unfolding, making me realise how tiny I am. And I was reminded that many eyes have gazed in wonder at our beautiful world and have tried to respond to the wonder on offer from our gracious God.

O Lord, how manifold are your works! In wisdom you have made them all, the earth is full of your creatures. (Ps 104: 24)

We’ve had a gentle autumn, I think. Warm days – albeit dry – leaves of red and orange and gold graciously drifting to the ground like a winter song announcement. And there is the gradual change in light – a new softness emerges.

You have made the moon to mark the seasons; the sun knows its time for setting. (Ps 104: 19)

Something about the surrounding country beauty helped to soften the edge of the underlying distress I am feeling about the chaos of the world. As with many people I find the ongoing death and devastation wrought by conflict in Gaza and war in Ukraine deeply upsetting. I feel helpless about the suffering that is being experienced and the generational trauma that will be left and I wonder about what is in the minds of our world leaders and why they are not able to open their hearts to peace. There is conflict in so many parts of the world and even though we share this fragile planet as a people of the world we continue to struggle with how to make sure that everyone has enough to eat. And I remember that many eyes have gazed in horror at unfolding violence and suffering and have tried to respond in word and action.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, through the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult. (Ps 46: 1-4)

Last weekend, Pentecost arrived in our wintertime. As our light-filled days shorten, perhaps our winter Pentecost reminds us that darkness can also birth creativity. In darkness the world can soften, and our senses heighten. Time slows. What is hidden can sometimes become clear. Our imaginations can run free. The night can bring a new voice. The psychologist Carl Jung had a sense of this. He explored the idea of the ‘shadow’ and how when we turn toward our inner shadow world we are able uncover new truths. Lord, send out your Spirit into the darkness!  

Our biblical Easter journey was peppered with stories that revealed how the earliest Christians tried to make sense of their lives in light of their profound experience of Jesus: his life, the loss of him through death and their experience of him in resurrection. A greeting of peace pierced their darkness and they were invited to move from fear to courage. Jesus’ promise of the Holy Spirit propelled them in their journey to preach and teach the Good News, to live joyfully.

And now we, too, are invited to move forward, not just with a promise of the Holy Spirit as animator and guide, but in the sure knowledge that the breath of the Spirit brings peace and renewal. This weekend we are offered another clue about how we are to be in this world of ours. The readings of the Feast of Trinity bring with them images of wisdom, truth, light, faith and grace. We may hear in a new way in this Jubilee Year of Hope the proclamation from the second reading that ‘hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.’ (Romans 5:5). This is the truth in which generations of people in darkness have placed their hope a sign for us that all will not be lost. A reminder to us that at that the God of wonder if at the heart of the chaos of life, inspiring our spirit—our first and final breath, and all the breaths in between.

So may we breathe in the truth that the knowledge of Jesus offers and be renewed in our life and in our living. May we be confident that the Spirit is sweeping in the darkest of corners. May the breath of the God who created our beautiful world encourage and inspire us. May we welcome the Lord who sends out his Spirit to renew the face of the earth.

Brothers and sisters, Pentecost renews the Church and the world! May the strong wind of the Spirit come upon us and within us, open the borders of our hearts, grant us the grace of encounter with God, enlarge the horizons of our love and sustain our efforts to build a world in which peace reigns. Pope Leo, Pentecost Sunday 2025.

And in moments of doubt and anxiety, perhaps we can gaze at the wideness of the sky and remember how wonderful the Lord is! The Lord of the moon and the stars, moving in the darkness renewing the face of the earth. 

By Cathy Jenkins