Church

Speaking in tongues these days doesn’t happen only during charismatic prayer meetings. I get to see a mini-version of this Pentecostal phenomenon in UN meetings on climate change, and even in Korea recently, where I was with a small international group of academics visiting schools and various government ministries. When our Korean hosts spoke in our sessions, our interpreters beside us broke out simultaneously in Russian, Chinese, Spanish, and English. There were no “tongues as of fire” coming down upon us but I got an earful of what the airwaves were like when the Holy Spirit made its inaugural entrance into the lives of the disciples.

Today is Pentecost Sunday, the fiftieth day (from the Greek pentekoste) after Easter Sunday. It is the birthday of the Church. As a human institution, the Church is quite misunderstood and maligned these days (and not without basis). On her birthday, it is good to ponder what Church is all about. From the account of the first Christian Pentecost, I can think of three graces at least that enable Church to happen. These are the graces of communication, community, and courage.

First, communication. We remember in the story of the tower of Babel how out of fear and pride (yes, the two can come together), the people built “a city with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves” (Gen 11:4). The story is tragic because they started the tower with a noble goal of uniting themselves even if they already “had one language and a common speech.” Enamored of their technological prowess, they only ended up magnetizing themselves to themselves and not to God.

The tragedy of Babel is a redeeming counter foil for Pentecost. On this day, there is no grand tower to galvanize the people. There are only flickers of the Holy Spirit parting and resting on them. It is our openness to the Spirit alighting on us that enables true listening and communication, without which there can be no understanding or even reconciliation.

For all our techie ways of connecting to each other even through social media, we are still fumbling newbies when it comes to communicating with each other, especially with those who should matter to us. Church happens when there is communication and credible proclamation. Church does not happen when we talk only at each other.

Second, community. Increasingly we hear of people professing their faith in God but not in organized religion or the Church. Their disenchantment or disagreement with the Church emboldens that protestation. While leaving Church is always possible, can faith (like love and hope) be truly quarantined and put in some self-contained bottle? Is it meaningful and honest to have faith and not belong to any community?

Among the 800 or so saints canonized by Pope Francis last Sunday (Seventh Sunday of Easter), one was Laura Montoya, the first saint of Colombia. On Montoya, he said, “This first saint born on the beautiful Colombian soil, teaches us to be generous [together] with God, not to live the faith alone - as if we could live our faith in isolation - but to communicate, to radiate the joy of the Gospel by word and witness of life in every place we find ourselves.”

Is it not our experience that anything delicious readily loses its taste when it is not shared? Is it possible that when something so beautiful is revealed to us, that we can just store this in our mental albums or cameras for our sentimental self-relishing? Church is the shared domain into which the personal and beautiful experience of faith is uploaded. It is also what enables that personal encounter to take place. Church happens when we realize our need to confirm and be confirmed by each other in all the things that matter to us. Church happens when we see how organic we are to the Body of Christ.

Last, courage. In the Gospel today, the disciples are gathered behind bolted doors, out of fear. Jesus comes into their locked lives, pronounces peace and forgiveness, shows them the scars of Calvary, and sends them off on mission. Do we really know what we’re asking when we ask the Lord to send out His Spirit to “renew the face of the earth”? Do we think that the Spirit can do just that without wounds being inflicted and crosses being borne on our shoulders? Will the world and our hearts just renew themselves without resistance?

We do not really know how the Holy Spirit does its flickering thing, but there are times when the fire in the belly (or in the heart) cannot be denied. We can guess the many sources of inspiration, but tongues as of fire cannot be self-ignited. If Prometheus had to steal fire from heaven, here on earth, on Pentecost, the Spirit’s fire is generously given.

Church happens when fire quickens the heart, as it really did the hearts of the disciples that day of Pentecost. Church happens when fire emboldens the heart, as it still does the hearts of many who have scars to show for all they have been through, for all they have borne willingly and gladly and bravely out of love.

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Fr. Jose Ramon T Villarin SJ is president of the Ateneo de Manila University.  For feedback on this column, email tinigloyola@yahoo.com