The Holy Spirit, Fire of Divine Love

Home > Other > The Holy Spirit, Fire of Divine Love > Page 5
The Holy Spirit, Fire of Divine Love Page 5

by Wilfrid Stinissen


  We are not created to live in the prison of our small ego. We are created to go out, out of ourselves, and, like the Spirit, to travel through the universe. Even the word “existence” (ex-sistere) suggests that this outward movement is essential to our being. Only the one who goes out (ex) stands (sistit) firm. Our existence is always an existence for others.

  When we look at Jesus, we notice that he is “for others”. He is pure relationship, relationship to his Father and to us. “My food is to do the will of him who sent me, and to accomplish his work”, he says (Jn 4:34). To listen to his Father and obey him is what satisfies Jesus. It is what gives him joy and fulfillment. When he answers the devil: “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God” (Mt 4:4), he is describing the attitude of his own life.

  It is not always easy for Jesus to carry out the Father’s will, and toward the end of his life it becomes inhumanly difficult. But even in the most difficult moments, he remains always completely turned to the Father. When he is hanging on the Cross, he does not say: “Now it is finished with me, now I am lost”, but: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mk 15:34). More than ever he is a cry to his Father.

  In the Gospel of Luke, the lifelong obedience of Jesus culminates in: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit” (23:46). And in the Gospel of John, the last words of Jesus are: “It is finished” (19:30). The entire work that the Father has given to him to carry out is now completed. Obedience has been total.

  A Wholehearted Yes

  If the Holy Spirit is your director, then it is up to you to let yourself be led, to say Yes to his inspirations.

  In connection with this Yes, I would like to point out three things.

  1. It is important that your Yes be wholehearted. If every time you say Yes, you add many “Buts”, and if you have many reservations, you cannot expect the Spirit to lead you where he wills. Saint Teresa of Avila (1515–1582) speaks of a “great and very resolute determination” not to stop before one has reached the goal.4 In the Bible this is called a “pure” heart. Pure honey is honey that is not mixed with anything else. In the same way, the heart is pure when it does only what it was made to do, namely, love.

  Experience teaches us that life becomes easier and simpler when we say a wholehearted Yes to God. We have a need for what is clear and unambiguous and are content with this. To know what one wants and to want what one knows gives rise to a special joy. The opposite gives a particular weariness and repugnance. We all know how it feels when we cannot make a decision, when we continually waver back and forth, and when, after finally deciding, we immediately question what we have decided. Indecision consumes an unbelievable amount of energy.

  2. It is good to remember that your actions have a tendency to release a chain reaction, for good or for ill. If you say a wholehearted Yes to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, it will be easier to say Yes to him the next moment. If you say No to him now, it will be more difficult to say Yes tomorrow. That is why it is so urgent to come over the threshold and break through the barrier that has been built up by a bad habit. When the first step is taken, everything goes more smoothly.

  At certain times, as for example in Advent, Lent, and on great solemnities, the Church gives us extra incentives to help us get out of the old routine and take a new path. If one has had some experience of how exciting the new way is, there is a greater chance that one will continue in it.

  3. We live more or less in cycles. We are all a bit “cyclothymic” (bi-polar). We often have mild mood swings, also in the spiritual realm. When we discover a new way, such as the way of confidence and trust shown by Saint Thérèse, for example, we become very enthusiastic. We may sail forward for a few days or weeks, but later on the feelings cool down, and we become weary and tired and drag ourselves along. A machine works always in the same way. One can estimate exactly how much it will produce. But a living being has its seasons, its summer and its winter. God does not expect the same from us in the winter as in the summer.

  It is extremely liberating to know that God never demands more of us than we can give him. He is always content when we do what we can. The only important thing is that we never give up, that with a holy stubbornness we do what we can.

  In practice, our spiritual journey will probably be like the famous procession in Echternach (Luxembourg), where after every third step, one takes a step backward. It goes more slowly, but, nevertheless, one arrives.

  Does God Really Speak?

  It is only meaningful to listen to the Holy Spirit and obey him if he speaks.

  Does God really speak to us? Are there not many people who, instead of hearing God speak, feel they are encountering absolute silence? And among those who do hear him speak, are there not a good many who are merely hearing themselves, their own thoughts and fantasies?

  There are people who, no matter what they do, feel affirmed by God. If they have success, it is clear that God is with them and blessing their plans. If they have opposition, it is even more clear that they are doing right. Everything that comes from God should be marked by the Cross, they say. Did not Jesus himself fail. . .?

  Are you hearing your own voice or the voice of God? Is it you who are speaking to yourself, or are you listening to God speaking to you?

  Perhaps the question is not nuanced enough. It need not be a question of either/or. God can speak through your own self. And that is usually what he does, provided that you stand before him in all honesty and live from the basic attitude of wanting to do his will. As soon as you want to listen to the Holy Spirit, he becomes active in you, for no one can begin to listen to God on his own initiative. The will to listen is already a work of the Spirit. “It is the Spirit himself bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God” (Rom 8:16), so the Spirit speaks together with our spirit about what God’s will is. The Spirit uses our deep, true self to make us understand what God wills.

  I am often asked the question: “Does God want me to enter a monastery?” My immediate reply is: Do you want it? Do you have the desire to enter a monastery, not only with a theoretical, abstract desire, but are you drawn there, do you believe you will be happy and find your home there? If you truly want it, it is likely that God wants it also, that he wills it through you. Then it remains to be seen if you have the necessary qualities of physical and psychological health, common sense, and a certain spiritual maturity, and if the religious community to which you are drawn wishes to accept you. A vocation consists mainly of these three elements: (1) a personal desire; (2) the capacity to live the life; (3) a religious community that opens its doors to you.

  God seldom speaks directly with audible, perceptible words. He speaks, for the most part, indirectly, via your own deep, truth-seeking will. I say “deep” will. For alongside the deep will there are many superficial “wills”, namely, all the small opposing desires that often drown out the deep will.

  God also speaks through events, circumstances, encounters with other people, and through books. Much of what is happening around you contains a secret message from God. It is a question of deciphering and interpreting it. In everything that happens, you can gradually learn to recognize a You. The impersonal becomes personal. Apparently random events become personal messages from God.

  God speaks uninterruptedly. He instructs, encourages, challenges, and comforts. He truly walks in our garden of Eden (cf. Gen 3:8). Yes, our life becomes again something of a paradise when we continually meet God.

  If we read the Bible, it is, among other things, to learn this fact: that God is constantly speaking to us. “And God spoke to Moses and said. . . .” How often we read that phrase! It does not mean, of course, that Moses constantly heard God’s voice. But he was so in harmony with God, so completely on the same wavelength, that he thought the same thoughts as God. For the most part, we deserve this mild reproach from God: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts” (Is 55:8). But that can change! We can come to the point where we
think God’s thoughts, where God thinks with our understanding and loves with our heart.

  We can eventually receive “the mind of Christ” (see Phil 2:5) and, like him, encounter the Father in all things. When he admired the lilies of the field and saw how the birds were fed without sowing or reaping, he saw in this the Father’s love and care (Mt 6:26–29). When he heard talk of the collapse of the Tower of Siloam (Lk 13:4–5), he saw it as a call to conversion. In everything he met a You.

  It would be wise to take a few minutes each day to examine one’s conscience and ask oneself: What has God wanted to teach me today? Where have I encountered him, or where should I have encountered him?

  If you object that one should consider one’s sins during the examination of conscience, I can answer that this is one of our greatest sins: that we do not recognize God, who walks in our garden.

  6

  Spiritual Discernment

  If we have contact with people in the Charismatic Movement, we notice they are often convinced that they are, or at least can be, under the guidance of the Spirit. Before they do anything, they seek guidance. They act from inspirations and impulses, which they regard as coming from the Holy Spirit. Outsiders usually look on this with a grain of suspicion: Do these charismatics really believe they have a private “pipeline” to heaven?

  Nevertheless, both the New Testament and the Church’s spiritual tradition show clearly that God leads man, not only by general norms and commandments, but also by personal inspirations. “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor, to be with you for ever” (Jn 14:16). Why would the Counselor be with us if not to help and guide us?

  Naturally one is open here to illusion and self-deception. One can easily cling to a false freedom and think it is from the Spirit. That is a risk that goes with life. It cannot be the right solution to avoid every risk by truncating the Christian life and depriving it of one of its most important elements. Mysticism has always been dangerous, and there have always been people who thought they had great mystical graces when in reality they were having hallucinations. But what is Christianity without mysticism? The solution is not to extinguish the Spirit (1 Thess 5:19) but to test the spirits (1 Jn 4:1).

  Two Types of Inspirations

  The Spirit’s inspirations are of two different kinds. We can distinguish between extraordinary and ordinary inspirations.

  When Saul is suddenly surrounded by a blinding light on the way to Damascus and hears a voice that says: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me” (Acts 9:3–4), that is truly an extraordinary intervention. The same is true of Ananias, who hears that he must go at once to Straight Street (ibid., v. 11), or Peter’s vision, which makes him understand that even the Gentiles are called to the Church (Acts 10:11–16).

  Tradition stresses, and experience shows, that such inspirations are rare. It is precisely about these extraordinary interventions that spiritual authors, and in particular Saint John of the Cross, give a strict warning. We must not be gullible! Above all, we must not desire them.

  With ordinary inspirations, there is no clearly articulated message from heaven. There are neither words nor visions. Instead, we perceive an inner attraction to that which the Spirit wants us to do. Yes, here we see that the Spirit really wills through man’s will. The attraction can be strong and almost irresistible, but more often it is quiet and discreet, so discreet that only the one who is accustomed to listening perceives it. The finer and more sensitive the antennae we have, the easier it is to hear the Spirit’s soft murmuring.

  Life always means growth. In the beginning, the inspirations of the Holy Spirit do not yet play a very large role. Not because the Spirit is less active, but because we are not quiet and still enough within to be able to register the “direction of the wind”. But later, the Spirit reveals himself more clearly. We begin to recognize him as the faithful Helper who personally leads, strengthens, and instructs man. It can go quickly if we are faithful. The Trappist monk Eugene Boylan writes in his book Difficulties in Mental Prayer: “If anyone try the experiment, if one may call it such, of refusing God nothing for a period, say, of six months, he will be amazed at the transformation in his spiritual life.”1

  Just as the monk has a rule, which is intended to “regulate” his life, so every Christian has a rule, namely, the Holy Spirit. This rule penetrates deeper into life than a monastic rule. It is also all-encompassing. The Spirit wishes to “rule” everything. He had this freedom with Jesus. The Spirit was for Jesus the “rule” of the Father that always accompanied him. Jesus looked continuously at his “rule” in order to know what he should do. “I do nothing on my own authority” (Jn 8:28).

  The Spirit’s greatest enemies are perhaps, not the sins we commit “in thought and deed”, but our sins of omission: our lukewarmness, our indifference, and our spiritual laziness, which make us live unconsciously, preoccupied, and divided. Our greatest sin is that we pay no attention to our Guide. “Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God”, writes Saint Paul (Eph 4:30). I think we grieve him most by not acknowledging him.

  Basic Requirement: Detachment

  The prerequisite for being able to register the impulses of the Holy Spirit is a fundamental attitude of readiness and openness.

  This attitude has two sides: a negative one and a positive one.

  The negative side is called indifferens by Saint Ignatius of Loyola (1491–1556). To translate this word as indifference would be misleading. The word “detachment” probably comes closest in English to the idea of Ignatius. You are detached if you do not prefer one thing over another. You are not drawn more to one thing than to another, or, if you are, you do not care about this attraction. You do not live by it. You do not let yourself be led by your inclinations or disinclinations. If you are detached, it is irrelevant to you if you “like” something or not. You have left the level of preference and live on a deeper plane. It is true, there are still likes and dislikes on the surface, but these feelings no longer have any power over you, because you are somewhere else.

  This detachment gives a great flexibility and inner freedom. You are not fixated, and therefore everything is possible. You are not an exclamation point but a question mark. Nothing is decided beforehand, and therefore you do not need to change your plans, because there are none. You do not need to complain about anything, and you are never disappointed.

  Detachment enables you to live in eternity, in “the breadth and length and height and depth” (Eph 3:18). Every personal preference is a limitation. The field of vision is reduced to a single possibility. New possibilities have no chance. When one chooses according to one’s likes and dislikes, the same choice is repeated and confirmed again and again. Life becomes stale and stereotyped. It marks out only a few paths, and one’s existence follows routinely in these paths. Life becomes extremely monotonous. All is old; nothing is new.

  For the one who is detached, on the other hand, there are no limits. He discovers that every day is new, because God never acts in a stereotypical way. One is amazed when he begins to realize how inventive and ingenious God is. Each day offers new adventures.

  The positive side is openness. It is precisely detachment that makes you free and open. “See, here I am”, you say with Abraham, Moses, and Samuel. And above all with Mary. Yes, Mary is a unique example of openness. When she utters her Yes to God, she is completely disposed and ready to allow the Spirit to take up his dwelling within her, both in body and in soul.

  That is why she is a perfect model for the Church and for every Christian. She leaves the Spirit free. He may blow through her as he wills. He does not come up against any resistance. All the doors and windows are open. Mary is an empty house that lets herself be filled with the Holy Spirit. In her Yes, she places herself at God’s disposal. She does not know exactly what awaits her. She does not need to know. She consents to everything beforehand. She has no will of her own, or, rather, her will is that his will may be done on earth as it is in heaven. “Behold, I am the hand
maid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38). She would never have become the Lord’s mother had she not first been his handmaid.

  A Confessional Attitude

  This openness and availability can also be called a “confessional attitude”,2 as the Swiss mystic Adrienne von Speyr (1902–1967) describes it. Adrienne speaks readily and often about Beichthaltung. She is not thinking here at all of examination of conscience or self-analysis. The emphasis here is on God and not man. A confessional attitude means that one does not hide oneself, does not avoid God’s gaze, but rather exposes oneself to him voluntarily out of love. One lets oneself be seen and exposed. One is willing to stand naked before God and let oneself be penetrated by him. As a doctor, Adrienne speaks of this nakedness repeatedly. After the Fall, man no longer wanted to stand naked before God. He could not tolerate being illuminated by God’s bright light.

  A confessional attitude means, not that one actively shows to God everything one has done, but that one places oneself without defenses before his penetrating gaze. We find this attitude already in the Old Testament. “O LORD, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar” (Ps 139:1–2). One stands and remains in God’s light without hiding or concealing anything. One is like an open book before God.

  So the unbelief of Saint Thomas, the denial of Saint Peter, and the ambition of the sons of Zebedee are open and visible. They live in an eternal confessional attitude, not only before God, but also before the Church. Let us certainly not imagine they are sad that we see their sin! They are glad that so many can know they have been washed in God’s mercy.

 

‹ Prev