Sixth Sunday of Easter

“Hurry up!... Don’t be late!... Order now!”  Those refrains have become as familiar as night and day in our culture.  They are the hallmark of our impatient society, tired of waiting in line, fed up with traffic, sick of being just a number, or just bored with standing still.  Yet the liturgical year has taught the Christian community otherwise: we know how to get ready for big feasts.

Advent encourages us to look for the coming of Christ.  Easter is anticipated by Lent, of course, and the mother of all vigils, on Holy Saturday.  The Triduum begins on Holy Thursday, taking us through the glorious passion, death, and resurrection of the Lord.  At the end, there was the angel, some pale, scattered linen, and an empty tomb.  He is risen, the angel said.

But the vigil that we keep in anticipation for the great feast of Pentecost is like no other.  Let’s face it: Advent and Lent have a built-in character of waiting; they are seasons that move us from darkness to light.  But our vigil for Pentecost occurs in the middle of rejoicing; we are in the season of Easter!  We have already been covered by the saving waters of baptism.  We have experienced Jesus, but we wait for the Spirit to fall on us so that we can carry that presence to others.

I believe that God wants us to long for the Spirit, even in the midst of great rejoicing.  The character of our waiting for Pentecost is like riding on a roller coaster.  Even if we’re not into Disneyland, we can sense the excitement and anticipation of young children.  “Hold on!” the kids say.  “Here it comes!”  That is the anticipation of what is yet to come.  “Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope,” is what we hear from Peter.

This waiting for Pentecost holds a special place, I think, for those of us who border on being what I call “flat Christians.”  We can act in very predictable ways.  But even more sad: we often live as if there is nothing exciting awaiting us.  No surprises.  And so the real question for this vigil-time of Pentecost is this: what is going to push us over the edge so that the Spirit falls upon us kicking and screaming for joy.

For some of us, the joy of the Spirit will not come by vigil but by crisis.  We might say the whole idea of expectation has to be qualified.  We beg the Spirit to come down.  We implore the Spirit to give us new life.  The Spirit will move according to God’s plan, not ours.  And that may mean surprising us right smack in the middle of our vigil – where we least expect it.

These few days before Pentecost urge us to remember the promise that Christ himself will not leave us orphans, but that he will send the Spirit to us.  If we are living with one accord in the promise of Christ, we make room for the Spirit that Jesus has promised to us.  It is important to remember that the Spirit promised to all of us is what brings the fullness of life.

We are sealed with the Holy Spirit at our confirmation, and we must continue to seek and share the Spirit as we live our Christian life.  It is here at Sunday Mass where we find the Spirit most at work, in this community of love.  Christ brings us new life in this Easter season.  We are rising up in that life with the promise of the Holy Spirit.

Paul A. Magnano

Pastor