A Guided Meditation for Pentecost Sunday
by Greg Finn
On Pentecost Sunday we celebrate the descent of the
Holy Spirit on the disciples of Jesus. It marks the birth of the Church. The
disciples had waited together in Jerusalem for nine days after Jesus’s
ascension, praying continuously. They were told to expect an Advocate or
Counsellor. They could scarcely have guessed the manner in which that helper
would arrive.
Please use this meditation (based on Acts 2:1-6)
to help guide your prayer today. Read through the words slowly. Try to imagine
yourself in the room as one of the followers. Focus in on how your heart is
moved as you read and position yourself in the scene. It must have been a
magnificent experience for those first Christians. On this day, their hearts
were transformed and they immediately began their mission to spread the Gospel.
The wonderful news is that Jesus offers us the same gift of the Holy Spirit. He
asks us to welcome the Spirit into our hearts and minds and let His
transformative power shape our lives.
Send forth your
Spirit
Dawn breaks over Jerusalem and a shard of light
breaks through a crack in the shutters. The single beam does little to
illuminate the darkness of the upper room. It is here that you and the other
followers of Jesus have waited obediently, locked away as the Holy City hums to
the rhythms of festival preparation. It is seven weeks since Passover, the
feast of Shavu’ot has arrived. Yet here there is an eerie stillness.
Cluttered thoughts and a hard floor have allowed
you little sleep. With bleary eyes you peer into the gloom. Familiar figures
sit hunched, their lips motion resolutely in silent prayer. Others stare
forward, brooding.
The last nine days
have passed slowly, confined in this place. Everyone arrived with such great
expectation. All were impassioned in prayer, ready to receive the power that
the master had promised. His words echo through your mind still.
"Do not leave
Jerusalem...You will be baptised with the Holy Spirit!"
He had been so calm
and assured, promising an even greater future for you all. But how can anything
be better without him? He disappeared from your view ten days back and it feels
as though all your strength left with him. You know doubt is stalking in the
shadows. Perhaps some of your friends are close to giving up and heading home.
Despite this, you are still
determined to block out the doubts and stay. You continually try to think back
to those glorious forty days. The days when Jesus, resurrected and alive, had
walked by your side once again. Surges of joy and delight had rushed through
your body whenever he had appeared. But it seems so hard to recollect those
feelings and the peace they brought.
You know that throughout
those miraculous meetings your joy was tainted by guilt. A shame born of a
knowledge that when your friend was most in need, in agony, you were nowhere to
be seen. You had left him to suffer alone. And yet, despite that, Jesus had not
deserted you. Even death could not prevent him from being back by your side. He
had not given up on you. You turn that over in your mind. How does it feel to
know Jesus still believes in you?
Now he has gone away
once more. This time you will not let him down. You are resolved to stay and
wait, trusting in what he has next, no matter how long it takes to arrive.
Your gaze drifts to
the stone wall across the room. It was there that Jesus had first reappeared on
that bewildering Sunday fifty days past. Two evenings before, you had seen him
taken from the cross, his lifeless body, broken, torn and sealed away in the
rock. Yet there he had stood, his face shone and through perplexed tears you
marvelled as his smile radiated through the room. Unbridled delight had flowed
through this space. Now apprehension and uncertainty is trickling into hearts
and minds.
You are suddenly
startled as a fist crashes into the low wooden table positioned in the centre
of the room.
"When? When will
it be?" Simon Peter lets out an exasperated cry. His patience is waning.
He hauls himself up and moves towards the window. He nudges open the shutter
and peers down into the street below. His voice is hushed but you are close
enough to hear his anxious murmurings.
"How did he expect
us to speak for him in Judea and Samaria and wherever else? It will be a
miracle if we even make it out of Jerusalem with our lives."
He looks down at his
open palm and gently kneads it with his opposite thumb. He shudders and his
head droops. You know his thoughts. You have shared in them. Perhaps there will
be more crosses to carry soon.
By the staircase, a
group of women huddle together, their heads veiled. Among them you see a face
which catches your eye. It is unlike the others. Her face is not marred by
tension. Rather, it is captivating in its serenity. Auburn eyes glisten and a
tender and contented smile rests on her lips. Jesus's mother sits with an air
of calm expectancy. You wonder if she has been endowed with an understanding of
the Holy Spirit that none of you others possess.
As you consider this,
you are distracted by a coolness on your cheek. A breeze begins to whisper
through your hair and yet the opening to the outside is well away from where
you sit. Others have clearly felt it too and begin to stir, looking around
quizzically.
Without further
warning, the room becomes a melee of panic and scrambling bodies. The whole
place is blasted by a wind more violent than any of the raging storms you have
experienced on the Sea of Galilee.
This is impossible!
Your heart pounds within your chest. However, the alarm is infused with an
excitement, a realisation that what was promised has arrived!
The whole building
shudders and with an almost deafening roar, a blazing mass of flame engulfs the
ceiling above you! Your mind is racing. What thoughts are going through your
head now?
Streaks of fire
suddenly lash down onto each person. Before you can absorb what is happening, a
fiery bolt arrows down onto your head and you brace for the shock of
pain.
Instead, it feels as
if a cloak has wrapped itself tightly around you and an indescribable force
jolts through your body. There is a familiarity about the sensation. Seeing
Jesus risen, being in his presence, immersed you in the same feeling. You
remember clearly once again the awe when Jesus walked into this room, though
the doors were locked. Memories flood back of him greeting you on the shore of
the lake a few short weeks ago! You knew then that he was alive, he was God and
everything he had promised was true.
It is undeniable. His
Spirit is here with you, filling every part of your being. A heat burns in your
chest. A certainty of his love saturates you with joy. It feels like those
times when you and he were together. The moments of laughter. The moments when
you saw his healing hand transform lives...and yet this is more intense, not
like he is by your side, but within you.
The elation rises. You
know who Jesus truly is and you cannot bear to keep it contained any longer.
You shout his name in praise, crying out the truth of what you know. Your
words, however, sound different to the way you expected.
For the first time you
become aware of your companions in the room. They too are shouting with
ecstatic expressions on their faces. They must feel it too. You hear their
words. It is not their normal tongue and yet you clearly understand them.
"Jesus Christ is
Lord!" someone yells.
"He rose from the
grave!" declares another.
Your eyes connect with
those of your friends. The wind still swirls and yet laughter and cheers of
delight are now woven into the turbulence. There is now no need for quiet, no
fear of discovery, no desire to hide away. None of that matters anymore. You
know the truth and all you want to do is share it.
The gale subsides and
the room settles. A buzz of excitement ripples through the air. All around you,
eyes are gleaming.
Movement and raised
voices can be heard in the street below. Going to the opening you see people
assembling beneath the house. Their faces peer upwards and some point and
gesture towards you.
"Come brothers
and sisters! Now we begin!" Simon Peter is by the stairs, he is
emboldened, his face glows, beaming with excitement. He disappears, bounding
down the steps. Without a second thought you dart after him, down and out into
the bright morning sun.
Pope John XXIII’s prayer for a new
Pentecost in the Church.
Divine Spirit,
renew your wonders in
our time, as though for a new Pentecost,
and grant that the Holy church, preserving unanimous and continuous prayer,
together with Mary the
Mother of Jesus,
and also under the
guidance of St. Peter,
may increase the reign
of the Divine Saviour, the reign of truth and justice,
the reign of love and
peace.
Amen
