Those who fall in love unleash a new energy.

John 14:15–21 (16:4)

 

In biblical terms, Spirit [Ruah] does not denote an ineffable entity, but a real one: it is a powerful breath, capable of sweeping away everything that seeks to remain fixed and established.

God is Spirit not because he is invisible and unreachable, but because his action expresses an overwhelming, uncontainable, impetuous force.

This is our dream: to share in this wind with its unpredictable effects.

The Spirit bursts forth ceaselessly and provides the impetus to overcome all rigidity and set things in motion: the source of life, the instrument of the divine work in history.

Religious law may well point in the right direction, but it does not impart personal conviction, nor does it help us grasp the absurdity of love and its incredible fruitfulness, nor does it convey the energy that carries us to our destination.

For this reason, Jesus is not a model, but rather the Reason and the Driving Force.

He did not merely teach a path: he still imparts his impetus to us, enabling us to hit the mark of life.

His gifted Spirit is called the ‘Paraclete’ [‘called alongside’, a term derived from legal language]: a sort of advocate who, in court, stood by the defendant in distress to exonerate him (in perfect silence).

It is the Spirit of Christ in the soul that renders evil powerless and renders accusations against us futile.

In the face of difficulties, we can press on without losing heart.

 

The Spirit of the Lord is also at the service of theological Truth: the Faithfulness of divine Love.

In short: whilst the Church offers new answers to new questions, it is the Spirit of Truth that ensures the Gospel is not corrupted, but rather leads the disciples into the fullness of life and into the unexpected richness and radical nature of its very Call.

We will never say anything new, nor the opposite: by remaining open to its impulses, we will grasp to the very depths the Mystery that envelops the meaning of our life in Christ.

 

The living, beating Lover is asking those closest to him: ‘How much do I mean to you?’

Jesus replaces the commandments of religion with His own [His very Person, His values and the Beatitudes].

We know this. One cannot love Someone who is accustomed to keeping a record.

The different expressions of love are infinitely more important than a code of laws – that of Moses, for example.

The nuances of love carry significant weight, which outweighs the proliferation of rules typical of tradition.

Custom, manners, or even fashions, often do not belong to us. Indeed, they make us nervous and dissatisfied – even though they are ingrained.

The complacent man tends to drag himself along according to interpretations and ways of behaving that deviate from his very deepest self.

Attached to the most worn-out and obsolete conventions, or to conditioning, we continue to offer old or external answers to new and personal problems.

At times, there is a tendency not to accept living emancipation [not the glossy kind].

Nor the joy of discoveries in the making; not dictated by agencies of plagiarism.

Nor the innovations that bring us closer; nor a new way of thinking that allows us to grasp God as living, ever-present, and thus capable, through His ceaseless Action, of enabling us to take on a divine countenance.

 

When they become excessively entrenched, affected or deviant manners close us off to the impulses of the Spirit of Truth. They scatter us.

In some cases, they do so in the very name of God!

They corrupt and supplant the purity of the Source, and consequently, the innate fragrance of our particular essences.

Instead, the Paraclete [within us] defends the integrity of every person from external hostilities and also from the inner forces that do harm.

These include, for example: fears of responding to the authentic Call; cravings for possessions, power and appearance, which drag us away from life.

The Spirit even approves of attempts to enrich: yes, together.

By seeking the most varied reciprocity of qualities; by highlighting the very resources of our neighbour.

In short, we often need to set aside the ego and entrust ourselves to the Mystery.

 

God has a humanising Face, so the Spirit is the ‘defender’ who even allows us to make mistakes.

He dispels the panic of unexpected beginnings. He lets us sense the magic that protects us.

He helps us rise above the ambush of perfectionism, which always risks striking even the very beginnings of our vocational endeavours.

In short, the innate Friend frees us from the ‘persona’, from armour, from performance anxiety, from not wanting to disappoint the opinions or expectations of those around us.

He brings us back down to earth. And compels our gaze to look within.

As we lose our way and wander, in Him we shall rediscover the Centre.

 

Our Ally helps us make sense of the difficult moments – those that seem like a pile-up of misfortune. The blunders, the failures, the times when, for example, due to a string of bereavements or persecutions, it seems we are attracting negativity like a magnet.

In critical situations, we are guided to detach our soul from the external world, which ends up drying us out and causing us to lose sight of our very Core, the hidden Spirit.

In this way, we know that when the reality around us becomes precarious, the inner core is, as it were, compelled to rediscover the right distance from external things.

If reality forces us to sweep everything away, we are placed in a position where we must seek out and throw open new pathways.

Unexpected ideas, horizons, strengths and initiatives will emerge.

 

At times, it will be chaos itself that resolves the real problems, generated more by our habitual way of life [or perspective] than by reality.

Confusion will often arise, but so that we may finally ask ourselves about our true interests. About what we are not making space for:  which aspects, inclinations, strands of activity, relationships – that would resonate deeply, and make everyone feel at ease.

Thus, instead of living distractedly and as if carried along by dynamics that do not belong to us, we learn to live intensely in the present moment.

We learn to welcome and interpret what the tide of life brings in terms of new developments, day by day and moment by moment.

By loosening our grip on control, judgement, the urge to plan, and the tendency towards dirigisme and voluntarism, we allow the Gift to become a Treasure; we let reality suggest the path and take the lead in our experiences.

By yielding, step by step, we learn to let ourselves be flooded: it will be that which invades us that will make us blossom anew. Through processes that process the unthinkable.

 

If we have suppressed our passions so as not to appear weak, or made artificial choices to prioritise the approval of those around us – and self-control... If we have not yet learnt to be direct, the Paraclete will help bring to light the free part of ourselves, the part where our mission lies – rather than a showcase career (even an ecclesiastical one).

The more we are human in the harmony of the Love received—which transforms into friendship shared with ourselves and others—the more we will allow the divine Gold to emerge within us, and in the harmonies that lead us back to the Home that is truly ours.

By living our emotions with less intervention, we will work with passion.

We will act by expressing our deepest nature, and not as others expect; perhaps we will do things in a way entirely contrary to expectations and intentions.

But by breaking the monotony, we will allow the coexistence of opposing polarities, and the Heart will become ever more a friend to our destiny.

 

 

Abode and reciprocity, interpretation and root

 

Generators from below

(Jn 14:21-26)

 

    The Father’s love unites us to Christ through a call that manifests itself wave upon wave. And on this path the Son himself is revealed, thanks also to genuine community life.

This Gospel passage reflects the question-and-answer catechesis typical of the Johannine communities of Asia Minor, committed to questioning: this time the theme of misunderstanding is introduced by Judas, not Iscariot.

The Jews, too, had expected an eloquent public appearance in order to believe in the divine nature of Jesus of Nazareth. Perhaps such a low-key manifestation could only generate scepticism.

Why does He remain in the realm of concealment, and why do not even his closest companions react with enthusiasm? Would not an open and sensational twist be appropriate?

And why endure difficulties from within? Then, why were relationships considered ‘important’ viewed with growing aversion, as alien and irritating?

Well, Christ’s vulnerable messianism – seemingly defensive, evasive – is not the sort that dispels doubts.

He remained unadorned. Thus he did not lose his naturalness; as if he had sensed the danger of grandiose aberrations, all of them external.

The authentic Messiah protected his identity, his human, spiritual and missionary character. In this way, he avoided all the excessive, glorious titles envisaged in the theological culture of ancient Israel.

 

The life of Faith within us, too, continues invisibly: not surrounded by outward miracles and intense sensations; rather, animated by convictions (recognised within ourselves).

In this new relationship with God and our brothers and sisters, the ancient concept of the Lord’s Anointed One who observes and imposes the Law of the chosen people on all nations (by force) is of no relevance.

In every circumstance and place, God is always present and at work, starting from the core, to help us rediscover the breath of being.

The Father, the Son, and the believers form, through mutual knowledge, a loose-knit circle of love, reciprocity and obedience, through free responses that are neither stereotypical nor paralysing.

Not fragmented into details and case studies, but centred on fundamental choices.

 

‘My commandments’ [v.21: subjective genitive] is a theological expression designating the very Person of the Risen One in action.

A ‘Person’ unfolded in human history through his Mystical Body: the diverse People of God, whose multifaceted nature is an added value—not a limitation or a contamination of purity.

Of course, Love is the only reality that cannot be ‘commanded’.

But Jesus designates and advocates it as such to emphasise the break from the Sinai Covenant, which it both summarises and yet replaces.

The plural form ‘commandments’ acknowledges the range of varied forms of reciprocity and personalisation of love.

No orientation, doctrine or code will ever be able to surpass it, or conversely render it stagnant.

 

In the Gospels, love is spoken of not in terms of sentiment [an emotion subject to fluctuations, or one that adjusts itself according to the perfections of the beloved] but as a real action, a gesture that makes the other feel free and adequate.

The People of God reflect Christ to the extent that they develop their own destiny by living entirely through gift, response, exchange, and an abundance of gratuitousness.

All this in a manner that is ever more unique to each person, to every micro- and macro-relational situation, stage of life, characteristic, type of flaw, or prevailing cultural paradigm.

In short, the Lord does not wish us to elevate ourselves by detaching from the earth and from our brothers and sisters: the honour due to the Father is that which we bestow upon his children.

Therefore, there is no need to rise through ascetic observance [‘ascending’ as to a higher floor: the lift only goes down].

 

It is He who reveals Himself, offering Himself to us: this is His joy.

He comes down from “heaven”.

He manifests Himself within us and within the folds of history, revealing the desire to merge with our lives (v.21) to enhance them, complete them, and strengthen their capacities [in qualitative terms].

The Apostles, conditioned by conventional religious thinking – all about appearances – question Jesus’s attitude, which is modest and not given to spectacle (v.22).

They cannot accept a Messiah who does not demand everyone’s attention, who does not astonish the world, who does not shout proclamations like a madman.

The Master prefers that in his Word we recognise an active resonance with the desire for a full life that we carry within us (vv.23-24).

This Logos-event must be taken up into our being, as a Call distinct from the clichés of widespread, conformist, other-centred thinking.

For within this Call lies a sympathy, an understanding, an arrow, an efficient and creative vigour, which becomes Fire and the solidity of a personal Presence, arising from within – at once faint and resounding.

 

In ancient forensic culture, ‘Paraclete’ (v.26) was the name given to the eminent figure in the assembly – today we would call him a sort of lawyer – who, without saying a word, stood by the accused to defend him.

[The latter might have been guilty, yet deserving of forgiveness; however, he needed a sort of public guarantor to vouch for his fate. In other words, he might be innocent, yet unable or incapable of finding witnesses in his favour to exonerate him…]

This attribute of the Spirit alludes to an intensity, an intimate foundation and the reciprocity of a silent Relationship that becomes a Person, and knows where to go.

A companion who approves; who leads the heart, the character, life itself, not to the pillory, but to the full blossoming of ourselves.

Thanks to His support, we are not enchanted by high-sounding roles, strong words; formulas, impressions, tumultuous feelings: we enter the demanding, fulfilled depth of Love.

Let us broaden our horizons. Let us welcome a different guiding image, one that presses on and takes us by surprise, yet subtly. It does not reproach us, nor does it scold us.

An experience that takes place without earthquakes, thunder and lightning – which are but partial phenomena – but through the action of the Spirit who internalises, accompanies, nourishes, and keeps the interpretation of the Word fresh and alive (v.26).

The Message of the Gospels has a generative root that cannot be reduced to a one-sided and cumbersome experience; entirely codified and moralistic yet empty, as in sectarian situations, always at war with themselves and the world. 

By venturing into their own Exodus, each person discovers hidden resources and a broadening of perspectives that expand and complete their being, deepening the experience of the vocational calling that corresponds to them.

Between life on the move and the Word of God – the golden rule that instils self-esteem – an unpredictable, versatile, eclectic, non-unidirectional understanding is kindled, one which transcends the chains of identity.

In its scope, the Call remains the same, but over time it expands the awareness of its facets – indeed, integrating them.

Rich and as yet unratified forms of expression: Creator and creature do not authentically manifest themselves in a fixed, sanctioned manner, or in reference to a code of doctrine and discipline, but in the boundless freedom of life.

Even today, as new needs and questions overwhelm us, an appropriate abundance of new answers emerges – finally, even from the Magisterium.

Plausible within the adventure of Faith, yet they would drive any external religion to distraction.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

Do you recognise the Work of the Spirit, or do you reject it as a nuisance? What strikes you about the new Magisterium?

Do you find this approach in the Proclamation, in Catechesis, in Animation, in Pastoral Care and in your own Journey?

 

 

Further Reflection: Spirit of Truth

 

Satisfactory solutions or Spirit of Truth

(Jn 15:26–16:4a)

 

    Faith in the Master is already eternal life, or rather the Life of the Eternal One (in action here and now). He himself is the Bread of authentic and indestructible existence, though still earthly.

The intimate life of God himself reaches us in our time. The first step is a Faith that bestows a Vision; an irruption of the Spirit that brings new life from above, thus animating a different existence – one that is not empty.

The sign of such adherence is believing in Jesus as the Son: a man who manifests the divine condition.

Christ is the Bread of Life also because his Word is creative, and the path of following him imparts to us the qualities of indestructible Life.

The outpouring of the Spirit stirs within us the very same beating Heart of the Eternal One, which we experience in the deaths and resurrections of daily life and in the long journey of Vocation (reaffirmed from path to path).

Even in persecution, those who see the Son have within them the Life of the Eternal One – which regenerates and constantly brings about new births, new premises and questions, different paths, in an uninterrupted and ever-growing manner.

Our passion for the Friend unites us to Him, the Bread: that is, the Revealer of the Truth who satisfies those journeying towards themselves and the world, who at times shed their old skin, change their opinions and lifestyles.

In the Vision, we are enabled to take direct possession of it, thus drawing near to and realising the Newness of God – even in advance, wisely.

Through Him we share in the Father’s love for the Son, who manifests Himself as our personal Lord, and in the life of the authentic Church, which expands outwards.

The ‘hidden’ God of the First Testament, an obstacle that seemed insurmountable, now reveals Himself in the specificity of Faith… without the need for deceptive lights to support it.

For God’s world (in the soul) is different.

One does not enter into the Mystery with ordinary intentions and perfect expectations, let alone those of success and recognition.

In this Gospel passage, the apostles’ incomprehension comes to the fore. Indeed, even to us, the way in which Jesus reveals himself often seems indecipherable.

Even the Jews (in reality: the Judaizers returning to the communities at the end of the first century) expected to recognise him in a clear-cut way, perhaps on some occasion of public life.

Instead, even during the period of ‘glorification’, the Master seems to wish to maintain the outward (humble) obscurity of his earthly ministry.

Many expected sensational fireworks during that period they regarded as the ‘finale’. Instead, there was no yielding to the ideology of power or to spectacle-religion.

In short, things were not going according to expectations: doubts were not dispelled, nor were ambiguities; the titles of Israel’s ancient nationalist and imperial glory did not reappear at all—quite the contrary!

Even today, the choice of Faith is not fed to the mechanisms that would guarantee its visibility: no safety net, no concessions.

Everything then seems to proceed as before, in summary: toiling to live, buying and travelling, laughing and crying, falling ill and recovering, working and celebrating… and so on, often in pain (apparently senseless); perhaps without decisive turning points.

But upon the same things as always there is a different Light, rooted in a new, immediate relationship between humanity in need and the Father who regenerates us, to reconnect desires, deep needs, external paths, and to increase the intensity of life.

It is in the mutual understanding of the roots and furrows of reality that this circle of love between God and his children exists first and foremost. And all that has not yet been understood will be brought to light by the action of the Spirit. The only reliable impulse, which does not focus on vain things.

A relationship between man and Heaven (within us, not above) that does not primarily involve resignation, effort, humiliation… but is reworked through a deepening of the capacity of our hearts – so limited, yet endowed with a mysterious imprint – for a life that is full, yet of character.

 

To avoid intimidation, marginalisation and annoyances, some members of the Church advocated a sort of alliance between Jesus and the Empire, proclaiming a Christ so vague and detached as not to offend anyone.

Some ambitious, trouble-makers of the ‘life in the Spirit’ believed that the time had now come to shake off the earthly story of the carpenter’s son – considered weak in itself, short-lived, out of place and out of time, and already extinguished.

John seeks to restore balance to the mission of the Gospel, which had been diluted by compromise. 

The evangelist emphasises that the Risen One (the Figure and Driving Force who sustains the soul and gives us new life today) is the very same Son of God who engaged in a relentless campaign of denunciation and fought numerous battles against the opportunistic authorities of his time, whose positions, vanity and the purse of commerce – and was therefore persecuted, tried, reviled and condemned as a subversive and cursed by God.

In short, the Holy Spirit does not chase after butterflies. The action of the Spirit (which internalises and actualises) and the historical memory of Jesus must always be combined. Only from this honest perspective is it possible to grasp, in every time and circumstance, the Truth of God and the Truth of man.

Furthermore: the Father is the Creator of each of our deepest inclinations, upon which He places an indelible signature that manifests itself in an innate instinct, which seeks to germinate, find space, and express itself.

We are born with a Vocation and unique, invincible faces (plural), each and every one of us. We cannot deny ourselves, our Roots – even where open witness might be unpalatable.

The Truth about each of us follows: by Grace we are the custodians of an astounding dignity, which even in error (or what is considered as such) imparts exceptional desires. A Truth that restores dreams once more: an unprecedented hope, which kindles compelling passions.

We would seek peace and happiness in vain by pursuing cultural and social conformity, or by playing roles, characters, and tasks that do not belong to us – however soothing they may be.

We would become outsiders.

Truth: God’s faithfulness in Christ. Frankness in every choice, relationship and situation.

The rest is calculation and deep turmoil, which will leave us disconnected and make us sick inside.

 

To internalise and live out the message:

Do you take a stand and face the consequences? When your vocational integrity is at stake, do you stand up and face the music, or do you blend into the background?

Do you remain vague, weigh up the trade-offs, and seek favours or protection from well-connected individuals and complacent communities? Or do you desire to unite your life with Christ?