“Strumpet City” has a special place in my heart, as it has for many Dubliners. A story of our city and its wonderful people, the novel concludes with a death in a tenement building. The priest is called. Saying a prayer quietly, he “began the usual decade of the rosary. At first only those in the room responded. Then to his surprise, for he had forgotten they were there, he heard the responses being taken up by those outside. The sound grew and filled the house. From those lining the stairway outside and the landing and the hallway above, voices rose and fell in rhythmical waves. The sound flowed about him, filled him, lifted him up like a great tide”. I love that image of holiness. In the saddest of circumstances there is so much grace. This passage captures something of the quiet magnificence of the Feast of Pentecost.
In the First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles, the Holy Spirit fills the whole room that the disciples are in. It is a generous Spirit that would fill all the empty spaces. The Gospel shows Jesus breathing on his friends. It is a beautiful image of extraordinary grace and intimacy. Needless to say, the disciples were breathing before Jesus entered the room though they might not have been breathing easily. It is easy to imagine them huddled together as a broken people, breathing in fear, anxiety, sadness, heartbreak and grief. It is also easy to imagine them breathing out despair, confusion and hopelessness. They were breathing but with little expectation of how the future might be different. Into this mess of emotions Jesus appeared and stood with them. He offered his friends the gift of peace. Then he breathed on them. This changes everything. The disciples would continue to be breathing after Jesus left them. Just now every breath would be touched by the memory of that precious breath. In a sense the gift of breath could be seen as a gift of nothing at all that didn’t exist already. It was always there but just not seen or perhaps, fairer to say, just not properly understood. Breath is life, it is the centre and the core of our existence. Our lives begin with our first breath. Our lives will end with our final breath. Every breath in between is a gift from God to be treasured and cherished. We come from God and when our earthly journey is over, we return to God. Breathing is so innate that we take it for granted. However, the gift of breath is the gift of life. The gift of the Holy Spirit is the gift of God’s life ignited in us, filling our breathing with joy and peace. We pray for the breath of God to fill our hearts and minds with his love.
I conclude with a poem by Siegfried Sassoon which he wrote towards the end of his life, when to quote Cardinal Newman “the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over”. It has a wonderful maturity and wisdom, a sense of words giving way to silence, of holiness being found in quiet spaces. I return to the poem again and again. It is a blessing to me. I pray it be a blessing for all Christians who are celebrating this Feast of Pentecost.
“A Prayer at Pentecost” (by Siegfried Sassoon)
Master Musician, Life, I have overrheard you,
Labouring in litanies of heart to word you.
Be noteless now. Our duologue is done.
Spirit, who speak’st by silences, remake me;
To light of unresistant faith, awake me,
That with resolvèd requiem I be one.
Image by Holger Schué from Pixabay
Paddy Moran C.S.Sp.
