"They were all filled with the Holy Spirit." After man had "immersed himself in creatures," and could not endure the uncreated light, he hid from God (Gen 3:8). God also hid Himself from man, lest He destroy the transgressor by His holy presence.
The One who is worshiped in three Hypostases, "according to His ineffable goodness, again drew near to the alienated one" through gradual revelations. Thus "the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father, and the communion of the Holy Spirit" (2 Cor 13:13) might raise up and again exalt the fallen.
The Father appeared in promises of love and mercy. He led the sinner, terrified by almighty justice, toward the mediation of the Son.
The Son appeared under the veil of humanity. In Himself He conquered sin and slew death. He opened the door of the grace of the Holy Spirit to the children of wrath.
At last the Holy Spirit appeared in the sign of fiery tongues. In the Apostles He penetrated human nature, that He might make it His own by the good pleasure of the Father and the merits of the Son. He did this so that "we might become partakers of the divine nature" (2 Pet 1:4).
"On that very day on which the law of the spirit of bondage unto fear of death was once given on Sinai, on that very day there now went forth" from Zion the law of the Spirit of life, freedom, and sonship (Rom 8:15, 2). Thus we understand that the righteousness of the law, not attained by carnal Israel, is fulfilled in the children of faith, who walk according to the Spirit (Rom 9:31; Rom 8:4). The company of those being saved approaches its perfection by a measured advance.
Therefore we must look upon the descent of the Holy Spirit not only as a miracle that glorified the Apostolic Church. We must also see it as an event essentially joined to the work of our salvation.
The present feast is not a simple remembrance of the past. It is a continuation of the Apostolic preparation for receiving that Spirit who ever breathes where He wills.
The Apostles, as the book of their Acts relates, after constant and unanimous prayer, "were filled with the Holy Spirit." And not only the Apostles were filled. According to the explanation of St. Chrysostom, the disciples who remained with them, "the number of names together being about one hundred and twenty" (Acts 1:16), were all filled.
Now the Church gathers us also, as in the upper room of Jerusalem (Acts 1:13), in this temple, to call upon the Comforter, the Spirit of truth, that He may come and dwell in us.
So that so weighty a petition may not meet the ancient rebuke, "You do not know what you ask," let us first consider, listeners, what it is to be filled with the Holy Spirit. Let us also consider how necessary this gift is for all and for each one.
We shall not dare to speak here of the Holy Spirit as the third Person of the worshiped Trinity, who proceeds from the Father and rests in the Son. Only the Spirit of God searches the depths of God (1 Cor 2:10-11).
The Spirit sent by the Son from the Father (Jn 15:26) in saving gifts, the Spirit who fills man, and man filled with the Spirit: these are matters man can grasp. Yet even this is grasped only by the man in whom the Spirit dwells.
As for us, who scarcely have "the firstfruits of the Spirit" (Rom 8:23), we can only from afar, through the mirror of the word of God, peer into the manifestations of this great mystery.
What the Holy Spirit is in His first gifts He Himself explains by His fiery tongues. He is immaterial fire, which acts through two powers: light and warmth, the light of faith and the warmth of love.
This heavenly light, in the expression of Solomon, "goes before and shines until the day is established" (Prov 4:18). It disperses the gloom of ignorance and doubt. It exposes the deception of phantoms, which a mind sunk in sensuality often takes for truths.
It grants man to see himself in the nakedness of corrupted nature. It grants him to know the world in relation to the soul. It grants him to feel the presence of God as the source of light.
It communicates "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen" (Heb 11:1).
In proportion as light from the Sun of Righteousness increases in the mind, the heart is warmed and set aflame. Divine love casts self-love out of it. It burns up in it the thorns of carnal desires, purifies it, empties it, and in turn draws new light into the soul.
The confluence of these original spiritual gifts forms a fiery tongue. It speaks the law of God the Word in the heart of man (Ps 36:31). It forms Christ within him (Gal 4:19), and accomplishes "regeneration" into spiritual life.
The manner in which man is filled with gifts of grace is one indivisible action of the Holy Spirit. Yet in man it begins and ceases, diminishes and grows, endures and hastens, and takes different directions and forms.
It always corresponds to the readiness of the one who receives, but it never depends on his arbitrary will. It is accompanied by perceptible effects, yet it escapes reason when reason wishes to ascend to its source.
Extending from the inward to the outward, it is like the moisture that descended upon Gideon's fleece (Judg 6:38). It appears from the air in drops of water and fills the bowl.
Or it is like the wind, observed in the movements it produces, but not in the movements of which it consists. "The Spirit breathes where He wills, and you hear His voice, but you do not know whence He comes or where He goes. So is everyone born of the Spirit" (Jn 3:8).
What, then, are the most notable changes that can mark the path of the Spirit of God in the human soul?
There are moments when even a man given over to the world and the flesh awakens from the enchantment in which they hold him. He sees clearly that his past life is a chain of errors, weaknesses, crimes, and betrayals of God.
He sees that his deeds are by nature the seed of future punishments. He sees that even his virtues will not stand before the gaze of the eternal Judge.
He condemns himself and trembles with his whole being. Despairing of himself, he is through this despair drawn toward hope in God.
What else is "this disposition" toward repentance, if not that "great and strong wind, rending mountains and breaking rocks," that is, overthrowing pride and softening hardness of heart, which the Lord sends before Himself as He passes by (3 Kgs 19:11)?
What is it, if not that rushing breath which announces the descent of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:2)? What is it, if not "Thy fear, O Lord," in the midst of which "we conceive in the womb the Spirit of Thy salvation" (Isa 26:18)?
Blessed is he who "obediently allows himself also to be drawn" by this impulse of the Spirit of God. It will lead him by the narrow way (Mt 7:14) of self-denial.
It will compel him to uproot what he had formerly sown, and to destroy what he had built. It will teach him to suffer and rejoice in sufferings (Col 1:24).
It will teach him to crucify the flesh with its passions and desires (Gal 5:24), so as to surrender the spirit wholly into the hands of God.
Little by little the rushing breath will be changed into those meek, ineffable groanings by which the Spirit Himself intercedes for us (Rom 8:26). It will become that living voice by which He cries in our hearts, "Abba, Father" (Gal 4:6).
Then man fulfills Christ's commandment concerning unceasing prayer (Lk 18:1). By his own powers alone this would be impossible, both because of his tendency to distraction and because of ignorance of the objects and form of true prayer. "For we do not know what to pray for as we ought."
Exercise in unceasing prayer is inseparably joined to spiritual solitude. In it the Christian enters his room and shuts the doors (Mt 6:6). There he remains, like the Apostles, awaiting the promise of the Father (Acts 1:4).
He does not give himself to distraction. World-lovers, bound by vain proprieties, pursue amusements and are pursued by cares. They rarely return to themselves.
But he takes every thought captive to the obedience of Christ (2 Cor 10:5). All his desires he either wings upward, where his life is hidden with Christ in God (Col 3:3), or he brings to rest within himself.
There, at last, grace must reveal the kingdom of God (Lk 17:21). He fulfills the duties of his state without attachment to the advantages joined to them.
He makes use of outward goods, but "does not cling to them." He acquires as though he had no need. He loses as though he were giving away what was superfluous.
If a man firmly resolves, as far as possible, to keep himself in this state of self-estrangement, then soon his thirsty wilderness will blossom like the lily (Isa 35:1). The mustard seed cast into the garden of his soul will grow into a great tree (Lk 13:19).
Through the decaying veil of the old man, which is stripped away more and more each hour, the new man will shine forth. He is created according to God in righteousness and the holiness of truth (Col 3:9; Eph 4:24).
The spirit of holiness will breathe in all his faculties and actions.
Thus the man filled with the Holy Spirit presents, to an eye not darkened by prejudices, an image of perfection. Before it all that the world calls beautiful and lofty disappears like a shadow.
The Apostle judged such a man rightly, listeners, when he said of certain ascetics of faith that "the world was not worthy" of them (Heb 11:38).
Grace turns into priceless treasure everything it touches in the man who has surrendered himself to it.
In his mind shines the spirit of wisdom. It is not the wisdom by which the sons of this age, in the Savior's words, are wiser "in their own generation" (Lk 16:8). That wisdom teaches them to be inventive in means and clever in occasions for gaining temporal advantages.
It teaches them to increase their dignity not so much in themselves as in the opinion of others. But this other wisdom "spiritually discerns all things" (1 Cor 2:15), so as to turn everything into means toward the one eternal good of the soul.
His will is moved by the spirit of freedom. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has freed him from the law of sin and death. That law gives its slaves as many harsh masters as there are needs, whims, passions, and habits.
In the depth of his heart rests the spirit of consolation and peace, "which surpasses all understanding" (Phil 4:7). Jesus Christ gives it to His disciples, "not as the world gives" (Jn 14:27).
For the peace of the world is a brief slumber amid the noise of a dangerous storm. It is security founded on ignorance, so that joyful cries of "peace and safety" are sometimes interrupted by sudden destruction (1 Thess 5:3).
By contrast, "the peace given by Christ" is established on unshaken assurance of reconciliation with God. Thus, in temptations, sorrows, and dangers, the Christian is not crushed. He even yields himself peacefully to death.
He does this in the assurance that "our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding weight of eternal glory" (2 Cor 4:8-17).
In him dwells the spirit of majesty. This is not blind daring, nor pride covered with pomp, nor the glitter of natural virtues, which are impure at their source.
It is the true elevation of thoughts occupied with God. It is the breadth of views bounded by eternity alone. It is the nobility of feelings born and nurtured by the word of God.
In him also dwells the spirit of humility. Amid the riches of God's goodness, it sees in itself only poverty and unworthiness, so that it may magnify the Lord all the more.
Meanwhile, those who are "not regenerated" by the Spirit of God try to find something great even in their defects. By their very humiliation they ask for honor. They "crawl in order to oppress others."
In him dwells the spirit of power. With it the Christian is no longer that "powerless" man, a captive of his own senses, open on every side to the assaults of the enemy.
He is no longer conquered before the battle, and no longer submits to one passion in order to quiet another. He is a good soldier, clothed in "the whole armor of God" (Eph 6:11).