Homilies

on the liturgy of the Sundays and feasts

by David Q. Liptak

Permanent deacons

5th Sunday of Easter-May 5

What does God look like? How does God think and act? Contemplate Jesus, who had compassion on the lame, the sightless, the deaf. Contemplate Jesus, who brought back to life a dead girl, and who instilled life anew in a dead young man, the only son of a widowed mother.

What is God like? Contemplate Jesus, who condemned hypocrisy and insincerity; but who exalted the downtrodden, the alienated, the impoverished, the unconsulted. Contemplate Jesus, the Suffering Servant, who, risen from the tomb, appeared to the very Apostles, who, save one, failed to remain with him during his Passion and crucifixion.

Yves Congar, the towering theologian who was made a cardinal by Pope John Paul II in the Fall of 1994, summarizes this doctrine with the thought-provoking affirmation, "God is Jesus Christ" (Jesus Christ, Herder and Herder, 1966). Thus, the only place where the Infinite, Supreme Intelligence and Will who is God, has physically touched this world, is the sacred humanity of Jesus. Jacob's ladder, with the angels of God ascending and descending, rests upon the humanity of Christ our Lord (Gen. 28:10-13, 16-17; John 1:51).

"Whoever has seen me has seen the Father." Jesus' words to Philip go to the heart of Christian Revelation. Hence, they must be heralded, preached.

Preaching in the strict sense, such as occurs in the Mass (or any part of the sacred liturgy), is an act of Holy Orders. This means that the power of the preached word is assigned by the Church, in accordance with Apostolic Tradition, to those who are ordained. Hence, priests, like bishops, are empowered to preach. Indeed, preaching is one of the two principal roles of the priest, since sacramental experience depends upon faith engendered by the preached word.

Yet, because God's Revelation-that God reveals himself in Jesus-is so crucial a message meant by the loving God for all human beings everywhere and for all time-the power to preach is also shared by deacons, whose early history is recalled in today's First Reading, from the Book of Acts. And since that First Reading does return us all to thoughts about the ongoing diaconate, we could also profitably reflect upon it today.

St. Paul, writing in the Spirit to the Philippians, describes the diaconate as a distinct order (Phil. 1:1). And in the First Epistle to Timothy the qualifications for this order are set forth (1 Tim. 3:8-10).

From the beginning, deacons functioned in three areas: (1) liturgical (i.e., they assisted at Mass, administered Baptism); (2) doctrinal-they taught and catechized; and (3) charitable-they helped administer the Church's social service apostolate.

The diaconate went into decline during medieval times. Several reasons are cited; most entail a lengthy historical discussion. During World War II, new interest in the order emerged. One reason was a practical response to difficult, priestless situations occasioned by war (e.g., in concentration camps, in the Iron Curtain lands); another was a frank attempt to address shortages of priests in general. Against this background, Vatican Council II called for the restoration of the diaconate "as a proper and permanent rank of the hierarchy." Specifics for the implementation of Vatican Council II's proposal were issued by Pope Paul VI on 28 June 1967, in the motu proprio, Sacram Diaconatus Ordinem. In this document, the Roman Pontiff explained:

For even though some of the functions of deacons are usually committed to laymen, especially in missionary lands, still "it is helpful to strengthen, by the imposition of hands-which goes back to apostolic tradition-and to link more closely with the altar, men who are to perform truly diaconal functions . . . so that through the sacramental grace of the diaconate they will be enabled to fulfill their ministry more effectively." This will be ideal to highlight the special nature of this order, which should not be regarded as just a step toward the priesthood, but rather as enriched with an indelible character and a special grace of its own so that those who are called to it can "serve the mysteries of Christ and of the Church" in a stable fashion.

(6) to read Scripture to the faithful and to teach and preach to the people; (7) to preside over the offices of religious worship and prayer services when there is no priest present; (8) to direct Bible services when there is no priest; (9) to do charitable, administrative and welfare work in the name of the hierarchy; (10) to guide outlying communities of Christians in the name of the pastor and the bishop; and (11) to foster and aid the lay apostolate.

The Catholic Church also recognizes several nonordained ministries. These were most recently spelled out in an Apostolic Letter, Ministeria Quaedam, issued by Pope Paul VI and dated 15 August 1972. What this document did, was: (1) suppress the ceremony of first tonsure (a cutting of the hair, which for many centuries constituted the rite of entrance into the clerical state); (2) suppress, at least as a universal norm, the subdiaconate together with the minor orders of porter and exorcist; and (3) retain just two minor or nonordained ministries in the whole of the Latin Church: that of lector and acolyte. Henceforth, entrance into the clerical state was to occur through ordination to the diaconate. This norm was reaffirmed by the new Code of Canon Law in 1983 (can. 266).

Thus, the diaconate is now reflected in two modes: (1) the transitional diaconate, which is conferred upon those in progress toward priestly ordination; and (2) the permanent diaconate, conferred on those who intend to remain deacons.

The diaconate, because it entails the Sacrament of Holy Orders, is conferred only upon baptized men (can. 1024). Whereas celibacy is required of transitional deacons (those intending to go on to priesthood), as well as of unmarried permanent deacons, married men are ordained to the permanent diaconate, but are held to celibacy in the event of the death of a spouse (cans. 1037 and 1087).

Again, deacons are empowered to preach in the strict sense, to give the homily even at Mass. Deacons share directly in making Jesus known, Jesus who is the keystone of our faith, as today's Second Reading reminds us, Jesus who reveals the Father to us and consequently helps us know what God looks like.

With Philip, the deacon today, as well as the priest, can preach with certitude: "He who has seen Christ, has seen the Father." For this reason alone, the diaconate is a privileged calling.

Suggested readings: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1536-1571.

Jesus and joy

6th Sunday of Easter-May 12

• 1 Pet. 3:15-18
• John 14:15-21

While our divine Lord was physically present in this world he accomplished all that could be done for us, or, as Karl Rahner once expressed it, "what only he could do here." But now he has returned to the right hand of the Father; glorified, he reigns as Lord of Lords and King of Kings forever.

Why is it, however, that Christ has returned to the Father? Why did he not complete his mission more than simply in principle? Why did he not then and there decree judgment, for all to see, in the light of his triumph over Satan and sin; over ignorance, illness and death? Surely these are questions which occur to any thinking adult Catholic.

In a sense these questions arise from the same context as that of evil still at work in our world. Why, in other words, is there war and racial discrimination and greed and unethical business practices-why Third World poverty and structured injustices and all the rest?

Indeed, similar questions trouble us in the small areas of our lives: unemployment, domestic travail, housing problems, difficulties in communicating with the young or the aged in our very homes. Should we not have hoped that all these close-to-home questions, as well as the much larger ones, would have been solved once for all by our Savior's death and Resurrection?

Yet, doesn't this question evidence a misreading of the Scriptures? Jesus came to do all that he could for us; yes. But he came to draw us to his word and Person, not to compel us to do the right thing always. Christ invites us as persons, not as robots. Persons are gifted by God with freedom. And, as Soren Kierkegaard put it so dramatically, freedom was given us precisely to permit love. Were freedom absent, love could not be tendered. Hence, an authentic personal embrace of the Lord would be impossible.

This "little while" in which we live, this brief moment of time is, like freedom itself, a gift from God. Now is the time-a single opportunity, as it were-to say and to do something meaningful by way of confessing Jesus' Lordship and serving others in his name. As such, this is the hour, this "little while," for us to exorcize the evils plaguing mankind-to make reference to today's First Reading, from the Book of Acts, written by St. Luke, who also composed the third Gospel.

Karl Rahner, in his The Eternal Year, summarized all of this magnificently:

It was not his (Jesus') affair that the Father, in his kindness, did not let the earth burst into flames immediately. That was his Father's business. He was pleased that we should still have something to say and do. Christ himself insisted on this delay for "a little while."

Reread today's Second Reading with all this in mind. Reverence the Lord always in your hearts, it says, and always have your answer for people who ask you your reason for hope. That answer is of course Jesus Christ. This is the name, which sums up all our witness and service; in fact it is the reason for our deep, perennial, unreserved joy. One of the most memorable television experiences in recent years was hearing these words-Jesus Christ-chanted aloud by Pope John Paul II and over four million Catholics assembled for the Papal Mass in Manila this past year-the largest crowd ever to attend Mass on this planet Earth. The entire world shook as the Holy Father and this huge crowd cried aloud: Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ!

To pronounce the Holy Name in faith-simply to say it-is our cause for joy in this "little while"; as we await the Second Coming.

One is reminded of the Memorial of Blaise Pascal, the 17th century scientist, mathematician and religious philosopher, the author of the acknowledged classic, the Pensées. The Memorial is a note attesting to a profound religious experience; Pascal had sewn the original copy inside his cloak. A secret between himself and God, it was not known about until his death. Part of the Memorial reads: "Certainty, certainty, heartfelt joy, peace. / The world forgotten, and everything except God. / Joy, joy, tears of joy . . . Jesus Christ."

"Joy . . . Jesus Christ . . ." The two words are synonymous. Joy, as the great English apologist C.S. Lewis argued, means integrating oneself with all of creation in and through Christ. It is not pleasure, he wrote; nor is it a place. On the contrary, it is a Person; namely, the risen Lord Jesus Christ. Once having discovered true joy, C.S. Lewis said, he dismissed all other thoughts of what it might be; indeed, the "total rejection" of what he would define as "joy" was one of the key pathways to true joy. At the end of his quest, after he had found Christ, he confessed, "the subject [of joy] nearly lost all interest for me" (The Joyful Christian. New York: MacMillan Paperbacks, 1984).

Thus it was in the lives of all the saints; Elizabeth of Hungary, and our own Elizabeth Seton; Thomas More and Vincent de Paul; Augustine and Monica; Francis and Bonaventure; and, of course, Paul. Paul wrote one of his most memorable letters, Philippians, while in prison, yet without prejudice to his joy-a concept which occurs again and again in his Epistle.

As Catholics our vocation is to bring meaning to this world, and this meaning overflows from the joy of being a disciple of the Lord Jesus. In the midst of the challenges, indeed, the obstacles of life, the Catholic is called upon to ask not what life can give him or her, but rather what he or she can give to the world, to make it a better place in accordance with God's holy will.

During this "little while" then we should strive to bring God's word and God's grace-depending upon our state of life-so that others might rejoice in the Lord as we do. The trials of life, whether occasioned by the world, by others, or by self, can be overcome with Jesus Christ at one's side.

Suggested readings: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1817-1832.

How the Ascension affects us

Solemnity of the Ascension-May 16

Several important lessons emerge from a reflection on the mystery of the Ascension.

For one thing, the Ascension means that there is another life, one which transcends this world, and one to which we are called. Heaven, in other words, is not a myth, but rather a real goal, the ultimate goal of life. And the way to this goal, the only way, is Christ.

Heaven is a revealed datum: it cannot be modified, minimized or mythologized. Jesus spoke about heaven often; for example, of the rewards of heaven (Matt. 5:12); and that he came from heaven and possesses the secrets thereof (Matt. 13:11); and that his destiny (and ours, following him) is heaven (John 6:62). Moreover, as Mediator between God and man, Jesus joins heaven with earth forever. Thus, in the Our Father, Jesus prays that the Father's will be done "on earth as it is in heaven." And in the Epistle to the Hebrews, Christ is presented as having sealed a New Covenant between heaven and earth (9:25).

All of this is fulfilled in the Ascension event. Jesus Christ, the Catechism of the Catholic Church explains, "precedes us into the Father's glorious kingdom so that we, the members of his Body, may live in the hope of one day being with him forever" (no. 666).

In affirming Jesus as the Way, one means Jesus' word. To accept Christ, to follow him, is to embrace all that belongs to him, all that he teaches. This means of course Christ's law. In Mark's Gospel about the Ascension, the point is made explicitly. "The man who believes in it [the Gospel] will be saved; the man who refuses to believe in it will be condemned" (Mark 16:16).

A second lesson in today's Solemnity can be drawn from Luke's going out of his way to suggest a 40 days' interval between Jesus' Resurrection and his Ascension. In Christ's time, the figure "40" was a metaphor for "completion"; the number need not be interpreted literally. What it signifies is that the interval during which our divine Lord manifested himself in his risen physical body had now come to a close. Henceforth Christ would meet us in his Mystical Body, the Church, as for example, he met St. Paul on the Road to Damascus.

But the word "interval" is important in itself. It rightly suggests that the risen Lord Jesus draws us to himself, as it were, never compelling us. He gives us time to reflect on his Resurrection, time to reflect on its meaning; namely, the reality of the Lord in our very midst. As a result, we are ready now to approach him, to listen to him, and to embrace him in the Church. As human beings we need this time, this "grace period"; the Easter event is so awesome, so overwhelming a miracle, if only we think about it seriously. It is as if the 40 days of the Easter retreat were given to us to experience better Jesus' promise, "I am going to prepare a place for you" (John 14:3).

Another lesson to be gleaned from the Ascension of the Lord is that the so-called "end-time" during which we have been chosen to live our lives should be given over to witnessing to Christ in "Galilee"-a Biblical metaphor for the world. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus, before ascending to the Father, instructs his disciples thus: "You are to be my witnesses." Luke, this year's evangelist, uses the verb "witnessing." The point is Jesus' directive to evangelize, to make his name and word known, whether by teaching, or conversing, or, in the case of the ordained minister, preaching.

Hence we are reminded again, as Jesus is about to ascend, that our Catholic faith is not defined simply in terms of our standing around, awaiting the Lord's Second Coming, while gazing at the heavens. No; we must be alive in God's presence and his word, and help make it live for others. In a sense, Christianity means sheer activity; the "end-time," prior to the Bridegroom's return must be filled with good example, good deeds, noble words and, of course, sincere prayers.

This, we cannot do, if we repeatedly surrender to the distractions of a passing world. Evenings squandered before TV deprive us of the time to take courses in adult religious education, or teach CCD classes in our parish, or join Bible study groups, or work with the Legion of Mary or the St. Vincent de Paul Society, or simply spend hours in solid reading-the Catechism of the Catholic Church, for example, or Pope John Paul II's great encyclicals, or some solid Catholic journal or periodical, like Homiletic and Pastoral Review. We are literally obliged to be busy at keeping and nourishing our faith; and there is so much to learn, so much to understand. And unless we learn and understand, we can hardly appreciate. Moreover, appreciation is one of the key aspects of Christian joy. Witnessing to Christ is a cause of joy.

Still another lesson we learn from the Ascension is that Christ our Lord will come again. He will return to this world, not as an infant, but as Lord of Lords and King of Kings, as the concluding portion of today's First Reading reveals.

From the time of the Ascension, the Catechism explains, the divine plan has entered into its fulfillment; thus we are even now at "the last hour" (1 John 2:18). Even now, "the final age of the world is with us, and the renewal of the world is irrevocably underway . . . . Christ's kingdom already manifests its presence through the miraculous signs that attend its proclamation by the Church" (no. 670).

Christ Jesus, ascended to the Father, help us look up to you, our eternal goal. Help us busy ourselves in witnessing to, and serving your truth. Help us be ready to welcome you when you return.

Suggested readings: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 659-667.

Lift up your heart

7th Sunday of Easter-May 19

In the Gospels Jesus is often seen in the midst of prayer. Indeed, before he made any major step toward fulfilling his mission, he prayed. Jesus prayed prior to selecting his Apostles. Jesus prayed prior to his Agony in the Garden and his decisive confrontation with Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him. Jesus prayed prior to instituting the Mass at the Last Supper, today's Gospel passage, again, witnesses to this.

The Apostles and the first Christians prayed intensely and often; today's First Reading, from the inspired history of the early Church, written by St. Luke, and called the Acts of the Apostles, testifies to this fact. They had assembled for prayers in the company of Mary the Mother of Jesus. (This is the final reference to our blessed Lady in this life. It is highly significant as such since Mary is the person of faith par excellence. The last glimpse we have of her on this earth is therefore a sign of faith expressed; namely, prayer.)

Prayer is also referred to in today's Second Reading, from the First Epistle of Peter. Therein we learn that the gift of the Holy Spirit depends upon constant and renewed prayer on our part. This is particularly true in times of adversity: sadness, distress, suffering in general. Peter wrote this from the very midst of adversity, when it was becoming a crime even to be a Christian.

Prayer, as seen in the light of the Bible, can be practiced in four principal ways. The most obvious is adoration: acknowledging God as God, and our utter dependence upon him. Another mode of prayer is thanksgiving: manifesting our appreciation for all his gifts. There is also what Catholic Tradition calls "the prayer of contrition": expressing our sorrow for sin, plus our detestation of sin, plus a willingness to satisfy for our sins. And finally there is that kind of prayer usually identified with prayer; namely, petition: asking God for gifts. All four ways can be found in the perfect prayer, taught to us by Jesus, the Our Father.

Prayer can be defined in various ways, but the one which St. John Damascene gave us endures: "Prayer is the raising of one's mind and heart to God, or the requesting of good things from God." But how do we raise our minds and hearts Godward? How do we ask good things from God?

Again, the Our Father, or the Lord's Prayer, is a sure guide. Therein we find the perfect prayer, not only because it was composed by the Son of God Incarnate, but also because it contains within itself a summary of all that man can pray for, and pray about.

The Lord's Prayer begins with an acknowledgment of God as "our Father." The "our" does not signify possession, but rather a totally new relationship, that of adopted children in the presence of a loving Father! Grammatically, the Catechism of the Catholic Church explains, the word "our" qualifies or describes "a reality common to more than one person" (no. 2790). This not only accents our unity in God, but also our quest for Church unity-ecumenism-because "our Father" reflects "our common patrimony and an urgent summons for all the baptized" (no. 2791). Moreover, "our" helps us leave radical individualism behind, because it excludes no one. If we say it sincerely, we leave our divisions behind us.

The phrase, "who art in heaven" is a reminder that in Christ heaven and earth are reconciled. "Heaven" does not mean a place, but a way of being. As St. Augustine (d. 430) wrote:

"Our Father who art in heaven" is rightly understood to mean that God is in the hearts of the just, as in his holy temple. At the same time, it means that those who pray should desire the one they invoke to dwell in them.

The final four petitions seek to draw God's blessings upon us: "give us this day our daily bread . . ."; "forgive us our trespasses . . ."; "lead us not into temptation . . ."; and "deliver us from evil."

Of course it is easier to discuss prayer than to pray. In fact, the Catechism refers to the "Battle of Prayer." To pray we must literally battle against (1) ourselves (and our excuses), and (2) the Evil Spirit, whose assaults upon our attempts to pray reflect his dread of God and our capacity to commune with God.

We actually pray in the way we live, the Catechism reminds us; this is true because we live as we pray. Thus the "spiritual battle" of the Catholic's new life in Christ is inseparable from his or her "battle of prayer." Prayer always begins with God; hence it is a gift of grace as well as a willed response to his grace.

Pope John Paul puts this powerfully in his best-selling Crossing the Threshold of Hope (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1994):

"In prayer . . . the true protagonist is God. The protagonist is Christ . . . . The protagonist is the Holy Spirit, who 'comes to the aid of our weakness'" (p. 17).

Although we like to think that we decide to pray on our own, as it were, the reality is otherwise, as St. Paul reminds us in his Epistle to Romans. (See 8:19-24; also 8:26). If prayer is an "I-Thou" colloquy, the "Thou" is more important than the "I." Moreover, when we accept God's grace and begin to pray, our unique dignity as children of God is equivalently affirmed; consequently, prayer renews within us our true humanity.

Prayer nonetheless remains a "spiritual battle." For one thing, prayer is countercultural today; it is viewed by some as nonrelevant in terms of human service; indeed, attempts are made to reduce it to an exercise that can be defined in terms of psychological theory or of restorative therapy. It is seen also as non-productive, even useless, in the environment of the contemporary world where profit and pragmatism are valued above all else. Or it is assessed as superfluous in that sufficient satisfaction can allegedly be derived simply from art, or comfort (e.g., palatial vacation homes) or sensuality. Too, prayer is often interpreted as an escape from life, rather than a means of giving life ultimate meaning.

But even those who pray regularly experience the battle; prayer usually does not come easily. A habitual problem, the Catechism warns, is distraction. Distraction not only can infiltrate and weaken the meaning of the words one uses or the thoughts one formulates, but can also intrude into one's very intention to address God-almost as if any real effort to address God were being set aside in view of other concerns.

The Catechism, relying on the Church's age-old analysis of prayer, based on the Scriptures and elaborated upon by the masters of prayer throughout the ages-saints like Augustine and Basil, Dionysius and John Climacus, Teresa of Jesus and John of the Cross-bids us never squander our time "hunting down" distractions, lest we be trapped by them. All that is necessary is that we "turn back" toward our hearts, because distractions reveal to us "what we are attached to, and this humble awareness before the Lord should awaken our preferential love for him" and draw us to his purifying love.

Prayer demands choosing which master one is to serve (see Matt. 6:21, 24).

The Catechism does not avoid the subject of spiritual aridity. Sometimes dryness is a test; a severe test, a "moment of sheer faith clinging faithfully to Jesus in his agony and in his tomb."

Satan, as noted above, has a stake in whether and how one prays. C.S. Lewis expresses some aspects of the devil's action in his classic, The Screwtape Letters (which is still selling throughout the world and remains as popular as when it was first released during World War II). To dissuade people from praying, or at least praying well, a senior devil instructs his apprentice, hard at work in the world of men, that one must first persuade them to equate prayer with the parrot-like formulas they recited in childhood, so that they will attempt to set for themselves a "mood."

Keep such persons, he writes, watching their own minds and trying to produce feelings. "Teach them," he writes, "to estimate the value of each prayer by their success in producing the desired feeling; and never let them suspect how much success or failure of that kind depends on whether they are well or ill, fresh or tired, at that moment."

"Lord, teach us to pray-and to pray better."

Suggested reading: Catechism of the Catholic Church, see Part Four passim.

In the power of the Holy Spirit

Solemnity of Pentecost-May 26

Simply recall Pope John Paul's pastoral visit to the United States last Fall. The Papal address at the United Nations Organization was matter-of-factly described in the secular press as "inspirational"-a descriptive unprecedented in its context. At Giants Stadium in New Jersey, at Aqueduct Raceway in Yonkers, at the Great Lawn in Manhattan's Central Park, the Holy Father's very presence literally captivated untold tens of thousands; his words were all but overpowering. Even media personnel were caught up in the intense religious fervor. An article in the New York Times described the "miraculous" conversion of New York City journalists, and a headline in the same newspaper referred to the Pope as "the most charismatic man on the planet."

Pope John Paul II-John Paul the Great-is clearly an instrument of the Spirit's breathing into our midst. One of the central themes of his Pontificate, inaugurated in 1978, is Jesus' own words to his disciples, "Be not afraid." It is the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Pentecost, whom the Father and the Son sent to be in our midst after Jesus rose and ascended into heaven, who steels us in our Catholic faith and safeguards us against giving into fear.

So many Christians-so many Catholics-seem to be afraid today. Afraid of not doing what is "politically correct." Afraid of "what others might think." Afraid of the media, which can be relentlessly dictatorial. Afraid of those who wield power by virtue of wealth or status. Afraid of modern technology. Afraid of themselves.

Today's First Reading reminds us of how fearful we can be. The Acts of the Apostles remind us that the first Christians were largely anxious about their nature and their role. After the rush of the Holy Spirit upon them they were literally emboldened to preach the Gospel, regardless of the odds; nothing would prevent them.

One is reminded today of those Catholics who are emerging from the shadows everywhere, no longer afraid to express their faith. The world saw it in Pueblo, Mexico, when John Paul II visited there in his first major pilgrimage. One has seen it again and again, wherever John Paul visits.

It is the Spirit of God who confirms man in his weakness and thereby enables him to witness boldly to the faith, regardless of the obstacles or contradictions.

We receive the Spirit in a special way in the Sacrament of Confirmation. Indeed, it can even be stated that Confirmation exists to extend to the Church of every age and every place-the Spirit given on the first Pentecost. Today's Second Reading affirms this. By this sacrament we are conformed to Christ in a very special mode; we are in fact sealed with a permanent character and become "temples of the Holy Spirit" (1 Cor. 6:19). By this sacrament, we are both deputed and strengthened for the vocation of witnessing to Christ more than ever before. "Deputed," because we are configured to Christ more closely; "strengthened," because through confirmation we receive extraordinary gifts: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety and fear of the Lord. These are the seven "gifts" of the Holy Spirit foretold by Isaiah 11:1-2. The fruits or rewards for using these gifts, we also know from Scripture (Gal. 5:22-23). They are charity, joy, peace, patience, benignity, goodness, modesty, continency and chastity.

These gifts of the Spirit are bestowed upon us within the Church, Christ's Church. And the rewards for embracing these gifts are experienced in their fullness within the same Church, the Church which came into being as such in the Upper Room on Pentecost Sunday. Hence, we make contact with the Holy Spirit by the Bible which we read within, and with the help of, the Church; by the Teaching authority of the Church; by the sacramental liturgy, supremely, the Mass; by prayer; by the charisms and ministries by which the Church is built up, by apostolic and missionary endeavor; and by the witness of the saints (see the Catechism, no. 688).

Incidentally, for reasons applicable today (e.g., the tendency to change the very words of Scripture) the name "Holy Spirit" was revealed to us by Christ our Lord; see for example, Matt. 28:19. Other revealed names for the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity are "Paraclete" (i.e., "Consoler"), "Advocate" (literally: "he who is called to one's side"), "the Spirit of Truth" (see John 14:16, 26; 1 John 2:1; John 16:13).

Biblical symbols of the Holy Spirit are many. Water is one, since Baptism confers divine life given in the Spirit (e.g., 1 Cor. 12:13; John 19:34). Anointing is another symbol; for this very reason, Confirmation is also called "Chrismation." As Christ was anointed, so his disciples are anointed to follow in his footsteps. Fire is a symbol of the Spirit too; on Pentecost Sunday, the Spirit manifested himself in tongues of fire, which represent the transforming energy of the Spirit's action. The Sign of the Dove is yet another symbol of the Spirit; when Christ emerged from his baptism in the Jordan, the Spirit descended in the form of a dove (Matt. 3:16).

Pentecost should be for us a time of recommitment to the zeal we once expressed at the time of our Confirmation. It should also be a reminder of our need to renew our zeal for the faith. It should be too an occasion for reaffirming our love for, and commitment to, Christ's Church, whose inaugural is recalled today.

One final thought. Pentecost, the historic birthday of the Church, is a reminder of the need to press forward insofar as possible in the work of Church unity. At the Vigil Mass yesterday, the First Reading was about the Tower of Babel, and the consequent fragmentation of the human race, owing to its sin of pride-man's reaching for the heavens as if he were divine. At Pentecost courageous unity was born; the Spirit, sent from Jesus and the Father, helps us in our weakness (as St. Paul affirms in today's Second Reading). Within us, "rivers of living water shall flow," says our Lord in today's Gospel. From fragmentation came unity. The disciples were empowered to understand various languages speaking in praise of God. It is the Spirit then who leads us (and assists us) toward Church unity.

Suggested readings: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 731-747; 1285-1321.