The Scriptures are full of promises that come from the Lord, promises which apply both to the particular circumstances in which Jesus addressed them, but also promises that are more general, applying to all – in every place and every time.  One such promise that I often turn to is found in the tenth chapter of St. John’s Gospel, in a section in which Jesus speaks about Himself as the Good Shepherd.  Jesus explains that, as the true shepherd, He will lead His sheep to safe pastures where they will be saved – both from those things that could harm them in this life, and from being separated from Him for eternal life.  Then He makes this statement / promise: “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (Jn 10:10)

In paragraph 27 of Spe Salvi,Pope Benedict points to this promise of Jesus as a reason for hope, that by knowing Christ and following Him, He will enable us truly to live.  There are two senses to this, according to St. Thomas Aquinas, who considers this life to be the “life of righteousness” that God makes possible to us already in this life, and the life in abundance, that of blessedness in eternal life in Heaven when we leave this body. (Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Gospel of John: Chapters 1–21, trans. Fabian Larcher and James A. Weisheipl, vol. 2 (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 2010), 193.)

As we have considered in the past, the object of the supernatural virtue of hope is the promise of eternal life, but this hope also sheds light on our current life, as our faith promises that through the gift of grace we already begin to share, here and now, in this promise to which our hope is directed.  This is the case because through grace, we are in relationship with the Blessed Trinity, a relationship which will be fully fulfilled in Heaven.  On this, the Holy Father writes:

Life in its true sense is not something we have exclusively in or from ourselves: it is a relationship. And life in its totality is a relationship with him who is the source of life. If we are in relation with him who does not die, who is Life itself and Love itself, then we are in life. Then we “live”. (SS 27)

I find this to be a consoling reminder that I often need to return to in my life.  When I struggle with disappointments and unfulfilled hopes, I can pause and consider the great truth of God’s presence in my life through sanctifying grace.  The Lord of the Universe, the Savior, dwells in my very soul.  He has risen victorious over sin and death, dispelling the darkness of disappointment and doubt that surrounded His death.  What seemed like a defeat has actually turned into the greatest victory ever.  If that is true, and I firmly believe it to be, then He can turn what seems like defeat in my life into a doorway which leads to light.  By persevering in His grace, I believe that He will bring me to those safe pastures where all those earthly disappointments will be forgotten as they are replaced by the sheer joy of seeing Him face to face, then I will be “fully alive.”  With that hope for what He promises for the future, I can begin again and rejoice in the life He offers to me now to sustain me for the journey ahead.

In this next stanza of the Pentecost Sequence, we wade into some subtle theological distinctions, so bear with me here! These ancient words shed light on the reality of our creation, our fall from grace, and our redemption in Christ:

Sine tuo numine, Without your divine will (Grace),
nihil est in homine, there is nothing in us,
nihil est innoxium. nothing that is not harmful.

“In the beginning,” at the creation of the world, God made humanity in his image and likeness, and “it was very good” (Genesis 1:31). Clearly, existence itself is a gift of God’s grace. The words of this stanza, therefore, ring true, because without his grace, we would not even exist.

But when something “harmful” enters the picture, the words take on a new meaning. Adam and Eve sinned and passed down the effects of that sin to every one of their descendants (all human beings). Some Christian traditions would say that this Original Sin totally corrupted Adam and Eve and their descendants, so that they would no longer even have the freedom to choose to be saved. The Catholic Church, on the other hand, teaches that the Original Sin deeply wounded Adam and Eve, and that woundedness is passed down. These descendants still possess some of their original goodness: they continue to exist, they can still reason, and they can choose right and wrong, but with the Original Sin, they are separated from God and experience ignorance, suffering, death, and an inclination to sin (See CCC 405). 

How then, one may ask, are we saved from this wound? 

St. Paul answers, “[Jesus] saved us, not because of any works of righteousness that we had done, but according to his mercy, through the water of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit.” This “rebirth and renewal” takes away our Original Sin, the state in which every human being is born, and unites us to Jesus Christ as a member of his body and a child of God the Father through adoption into THE Son (cf. Galatians 4:5). This is not something we accomplish, but it is something that by God’s gracious gift, we can choose to accept. We can choose with the help of God’s grace, for example, to “repent, and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:15).

It is important to emphasize that this change in us is not just cosmetic. Some Christian traditions hold the teaching that God simply covers up our corrupted humanity with his power and grace. In that mindset, we remain broken and our redemption is something external to us. It is something Jesus does for us, not to us.

From a Catholic perspective, however, a real change takes place in us through the grace of baptism. As one of my seminary professors loved to say, “Grace gets in the nature.” In other words, God heals the wounds of sin from the inside out. The first line of the stanza is key: “Without your grace.” Yes, without the grace we are nothing, but we have the grace. Therefore, by his gracious will, we are something, and at our very core, we truly become “a new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17). 

At the same time, redeemed Christians still experience the effects of sin: ignorance, suffering, death, and an inclination to sin. But these effects are not sin – they do not, in themselves, separate us from God. The broken relationship with God is truly healed, and these effects of sin only harm a Christian if because of that inclination to sin he/she chooses to sin and be separated from God again. Thus, the need for the sacrament of Reconciliation.

Through the Blood of the Lamb, which we encounter through the sacraments, our sins are washed, and the Holy Spirit causes this cleansing in us by the gracious will of our Heavenly Father. Praise God for this grace! The Trinity saves us and draws us into the divine love relationship by joining us to the Son, the Word of God. May the Holy Spirit keep us firmly fixed in the love of God. Come Holy Spirit, set us on fire with your love!

The first sentence of the next paragraph of Spe salvi offers a simple, yet profound truth that is really at the heart of the Gospel message in general, and in particular as we consider the faith amid such rapid progress in science and technology in modern times.  Pope Benedict writes: “It is not science that redeems man: man is redeemed by love.” (SS 26)

The Holy Father notes how the human experience of falling in love has a redeeming effect in our lives, such that when one encounters love, one finds new meaning in life.  No doubt any married couple can speak about this reality, as they recall with fondness their initial encounter of love which would open the door to a new direction in life that would include the other person in the bond of matrimony, living no longer as two, but one flesh.  Even as great as this love can be, the pope acknowledges that even this type of love has limits:

But soon he will also realize that the love bestowed upon him cannot by itself resolve the question of his life. It is a love that remains fragile. It can be destroyed by death. (ibid.)

With that in mind, the Holy Father can then conclude: “The human being needs unconditional love.” (ibid.) He uses the words of St. Paul to explain what, or rather who, this unconditional love is: 

neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom 8:38- 39)

This is always a timely message, but I think especially in light of the topic of faith and hope in the midst of our modern times.  There are so many messages that try to pull us into finding hope in things other than the unconditional love of God.  We are presented with conditional messages that promise us something if we but follow that particular path.  If you eat this type of food, you will be healthy, you will have more energy, you will delay the inevitability of death.  If you invest in this particular asset, you will be financially secure, you will have enough money to make you happy, to provide for all of your dreams.  If you engage in this exercise routine, you will stay looking young and healthy, such that others will find you attractive and worth their attention.  

These are but a few examples of some of the ideas and promises that we can be drawn into following, often to the exclusion of prioritizing the unconditional love of God in our lives.  But when we allow our lives to be rooted in His love, we are able to face whatever may come with a peace of heart that is grounded in the hope of God’s love for us – present, though sometimes hidden, in our lives now, and waiting to be fulfilled fully in eternal life.  Only in choosing the unconditional love of God can we be assured of a hope “that does not disappoint.” (Rom 5:5)

O lux beatissima, O most blessed light,
reple cordis intima fill the inmost heart
tuorum fidelium. of your faithful.

The inmost heart. Fill the inmost heart! Where is my inmost heart? What part of me is that innermost sanctuary of my existence? Many people never find that place; many never take the time and the silence to travel deep within themselves to be there and find the Lord there. 

There are excuses: “It isn’t important.” “Life is about work and getting things done – it’s about progress in the world.” “It’s too scary to go there.” “It’s not real.” “Only monks and psychologists need to worry about ‘finding that innermost place.’”

Ah, but it is real. It is important. AND – It is possible to find. If you have ever prayed in a truly heartfelt way, you have been at that place within your heart. 

But what is this innermost place? We find a strikingly beautiful, wise, and common-sense answer to this question in the document Gaudium et Spes, one of the four Constitutions of the Second Vatican Council. The council Fathers describe the conscience as the innermost heart of the human being: “Conscience is the most secret core and sanctuary of a man. There he is alone with God, Whose voice echoes in his depths.” (GS, 16)

The core of the human being, then, is the “place” of my personality where I choose. It is where “I” am most “I.” This is the “I” who says, “I want,” “I need,” “I hope,” etc.

Who am I? 
I am (i.e. I exist)
In relationship
To THE
I AM.

At my most fundamental core, I exist as a being – a person – in relationship to other persons. And one of those other persons is the one God who is three persons who made me, knows me, loves me, and delights in being in me. This relationship with God we call prayer, friendship, sonship. With other human beings, we call it friendship, relationship, etc. 

When we ask the Holy Spirit to fill our inmost heart with his presence and his light, we are asking him to make us a prayer. In other words, we are saying, “Set us perfectly in relationship with you, O God. Make my innermost heart rest inside of you as you come rest inside of me.” Remember, St. Augustine once wrote, “You have made us for yourself, O God, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.” 

This is, therefore, a petition from the very core of our humanity: “Fill our hearts! Don’t just come halfway or fill up a portion, but FILL them. Make them “replete” with your presence. Every corner, crevice, dint, and fold. Be in our hearts, O Holy Spirit.” 

When he fills our conscience, we are filled with his light, and we become free to choose the good, the true, and the beautiful. We see rightly. 

May the Holy Spirit bring that light to our inmost heart. Come Holy Spirit, set us on fire with your Love!

Just before Christmas in 2005, still in the first year of his pontificate, Pope Benedict XVI gave an address to the Roman Curia in which he reflected on a variety of topics, including the 40^th anniversary of the conclusion of the Second Vatican Council.  He was not afraid to point out that the implementation of the Council had experienced many challenges, and he asked: “Why has the implementation of the Council, in large parts of the Church, thus far been so difficult?” (Pope Benedict XVI, Address to the Roman Curia Offering them his Christmas Greetings, 22 December 2005) To this question he responded:

Well, it all depends on the correct interpretation of the Council or – as we would say today – on its proper hermeneutics, the correct key to its interpretation and application. The problems in its implementation arose from the fact that two contrary hermeneutics came face to face and quarrelled with each other. One caused confusion, the other, silently but more and more visibly, bore and is bearing fruit. (ibid.)

The hermeneutic that was causing confusion he called “a hermeneutic of discontinuity and rupture” which would suggest that what had come before the Council was to be left in the past, and that the Council marked a break from the past, a new springtime in the Church in which all of the old ideas and practices were thrown out and new ideas and practices replaced them.  On the other hand, the hermeneutic that was bearing fruit, helping to advance the true implementation of the Council he described in this way:

On the other, there is the “hermeneutic of reform”, of renewal in the continuity of the one subject-Church which the Lord has given to us. She is a subject which increases in time and develops, yet always remaining the same, the one subject of the journeying People of God. (ibid.)

I think this point is very helpful in understanding a point the Holy Father makes in Spe salvi when he writes the following:

What this means is that every generation has the task of engaging anew in the arduous search for the right way to order human affairs; this task is never simply completed. Yet every generation must also make its own contribution to establishing convincing structures of freedom and of good, which can help the following generation as a guideline for the proper use of human freedom; hence, always within human limits, they provide a certain guarantee also for the future. (SS 25)

The progress of human freedom and development builds upon what has gone before us, not dismissing it as no longer relevant.  But this foundation is not so rigid that it is not open to continued growth, reform and renewal, while always maintaining that continuous connection with Jesus Christ who “is the same yesterday and today and forever.” (Heb 13:8) On the topic of Christian hope, the pope notes that there is much room for legitimate development, as he writes:

[W]e must also acknowledge that modern Christianity, faced with the successes of science in progressively structuring the world, has to a large extent restricted its attention to the individual and his salvation. In so doing it has limited the horizon of its hope and has failed to recognize sufficiently the greatness of its task—even if it has continued to achieve great things in the formation of man and in care for the weak and the suffering. (ibid.)

I believe that, with the pontificate of Pope Francis, and now continuing with Pope Leo XIV, we have seen the Church acknowledging the greatness of this task, and has helped the Church to expand her horizons to spread this message of hope to the many challenges being faced in our modern world.

In labore requies, In labor, rest,
in aestu temperies in heat, temperance,
in fletu solatium. in tears, solace.

If anyone thinks that God is only for the elite, the morally perfect, or the “special” humans among us, these three lines remind us that nothing could be further from the truth. God is God for the common man, for the laborer, for the normal, for the weary, for the ordinary. Since the fall of man, the realities of labor, heat, and tears have been a part of human existence. This is our lot. We work, we labor, we sweat and weep and mourn because this life can be tough. 

How many of us, though, when we’re hard at work, whether in the form of manual labor or not, take the time to think of the presence of the Holy Spirit? How often have you paused to consider His presence with you?

He is there. 
He is in you.

When you take the time to recognize that, it changes the work. He may not take away the backbreaking effort of the work, but joy enters in. I’ve experienced this recognition as a “budding forth” of a peaceful happy sense of purpose. The way this stanza of the Sequence describes the action of the Holy Spirit fits with experience.

“In labor, rest.” This labor is the “work” with which humanity was punished after the Fall. This is not simply work, because that is good for us and necessary, but this “labor” is hard work, toiling work. During this labor, the presence of God brings a sense of rest – centeredness – and focus, even when the labor continues. 

“In heat, temperance.” The word used for “heat” here is aestu, literally, “a raging heat of fire.” I wonder if this not only refers to actual heat like from the blazing sun, but also the raging fires of the passions in the soul. The attraction to earthly or sinful things has often been likened to fire. In either case, the Holy Spirit brings temperance – not the virtue of temperance, but a “lessening” or “tempering” of the heat. He lowers it so that we can bear it. In the case of the literal heat, he can help us bear it and offer it to God, and in the case of the heat of the passions, he can help us fight to remain virtuous and strong. 

“In tears, solace.” Again, this is the lot of fallen humanity. Because of sin, we experience grief, sadness, death, rejection, loss, and betrayal. The Holy Spirit, in his role as comforter, comes to bring us divine refreshment. This solace is as simple as His personal presence. We are not alone because he brings God to us. Where he is, the Father and Son are also. When the Holy Spirit is within, we are never alone. 

In a way, we see that the Holy Spirit is God’s answer to the fall of Adam and Eve. What they lost through the Fall, the Holy Spirit reverses. We still labor in heat and tears, but the Holy Spirit grants rest and solace in the midst of it. 

May the Holy Spirit fill us with his personal presence and bring us rest, temperance, and solace. Come Holy Spirit, set us on fire with your love! 

After spending the past several weeks considering Christian hope and the influence of modern thinkers on this important concept, we move to the next section of Spe salvi which has the section title: “The True Shape of Christian Hope.”  The Holy Father picks up on the theme of human freedom in these next few paragraphs, having begun his reflection on this important topic in the previous section.

In many ways, the timing of this topic is perfect as we come to the conclusion of the Religious Freedom Week in the Church in the United States.  This week began last Sunday, June 22 (normally the Memorial of Ss. John Fisher and Thomas More) and concludes on June 29 with the Solemnity of Ss. Peter and Paul.  This has replaced the Fortnight for Freedom which extended another week, ending on July 4, our nation’s Independence Day.  Though the Holy Father’s treatment of human freedom in these paragraphs of Spe salvi are not specifically about religious freedom per se, they are helpful for any discussion about the freedom that we as human beings have been gifted by God.

The pope makes the point that for man, “freedom is always new and he must always make his decisions anew.” (SS 24) This is not to say that we are free to choose what we want to be true, and in the name of freedom, can justify any decision that we want.  Rather, we can draw upon the “moral treasury” of humanity that has gone before us to help us in knowing what is right and what is wrong, what is good and what is evil, but each generation is called upon to use their freedom in choosing that good, not just having those decisions made for us.  To do so would not be freedom.

On this point some might object to what the Holy Father is saying, claiming that the Church, in all of her teachings and rules, has defined what is acceptable and what is not, and that we are placed in a position that we must follow those guidelines.  True, the Church gives us clear guidance on a whole host of things, but our freedom remains, and we have the ability to accept or reject those teachings.  But there are consequences when we use our freedom to reject the good, which we call sin.  The Church does not define actions as sinful in the hopes of limiting our freedom, rather, she does so as a loving Mother to protect us, so that, in freedom, we can choose what is right and good, and so experience the fullness of life that the Gospel promises, and not fall into the slavery that sin inevitably leads to.  

Pope Benedict writes about the important role that structures play in promoting true freedom, such as various government structures.  He says the following:

The right state of human affairs, the moral well-being of the world can never be guaranteed simply through structures alone, however good they are. Such structures are not only important, but necessary; yet they cannot and must not marginalize human freedom. Even the best structures function only when the community is animated by convictions capable of motivating people to assent freely to the social order. Freedom requires conviction; conviction does not exist on its own, but must always be gained anew by the community. (ibid.)

We have seen this play out in a variety of ways throughout the history of our country, on topics such as political freedom and independence at the beginning of our country, abolition of slavery and civil rights, women’s rights, labor rights, freedom of speech, immigration and refugee rights, and religious freedom, just to name a few.  Our history as a nation demonstrates how freedom is always something that is in need of reflection and renewal.  Though the Church is not directly involved in the creation and enforcement of civil laws, she provides a needed voice in these conversations to ensure that true freedom, according to the author of all good, namely God, is never ignored or rejected.

Consolator optime, Greatest comforter,
dulcis hospes animae, sweet guest of the soul,
dulce refrigerium. sweet consolation.

This stanza is simply three descriptions of the Holy Spirit: comforter, guest, and consolation. There is no verb, so we can read it either as a continuation of the last stanza’s “Come,” or we can read it as praise of the Holy Spirit – a holy statement about the Truth of who He is. We might ask, ‘Why is His light a comfort, a consolation, and a sweet guest?’

Those who are filled with the Holy Spirit have a special way of receiving the challenges in life with grace. They seem to be filled with a sweetness and a supernatural contentment. In his book, “The Holy Spirit, Fire of Divine Love,” Fr. Wilfred Stinissen explains, “[The Holy Spirit] comforts by giving a certain taste for poverty. He teaches you to love your littleness.” The Holy Spirit doesn’t necessarily come and take away the things that cause pain, humiliation, or a sense of weakness. He can, certainly, free us from these pains, but he also has the power to help us bear them for Christ and for his body, with peace. 

It is only the presence of the Holy Spirit that could make the Martyrs happy and joyful in the face of death. It is only the presence of the Holy Spirit that could lead saints to speak about the beauty of the grace that comes through suffering. He conforms our lives to the cross of Jesus Christ, through which comes resurrection!

The Spirit is a guest, not an intruder. Guests come at an invitation – He will never barge in. He desires to enter but waits in reverence like the Lord in the book of Revelation: “I stand at the door and knock.” Plus, as God himself, when he comes into our interior life, he is really also inviting us into his interior life.  The Latin word translated here as “Guest,” hospes,can also mean “a friendly host.” When we invite Him, He enters our soul as a guest and hosts us in the divine life and light. The life of the Trinity is a life of outpouring love between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – it looks a lot like Jesus, crucified for the life of the world.

St. Paul is one of those saints who truly invited the Holy Trinity into his very self and therefore became very much like Jesus. He reveals this in his letter to the Galatians: “I have been crucified with Christ;and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” We see that St. Paul was filled with the consolation of God to the extent that he could rejoice in his imprisonment, his sufferings, his beatings, and his ultimate martyrdom, because in all these ways he gained a deep communion with Jesus. Communion with Jesus is the most consoling thing in the universe, and the Holy Spirit happily brings that communion to life in us. 

Come, Holy Spirit, sweet guest of my soul! Come set me on fire with your love and console me by uniting me with Jesus in his life, his death, and his resurrection.

In the final paragraph of this section in which Pope Benedict explores the effects of modern philosophies on our Christian understanding of faith and hope, he draws a simple yet blunt conclusion: “man needs God, otherwise he remains without hope.” (Spe salvi, 23) The Holy Father agrees with modern thinkers in acknowledging the importance of reason, how it is indeed “God’s great gift to man” and that “the victory of reason over unreason is also a goal of the Christian life.” (ibid.) But the danger is when reason pushes God aside and deems Him irrelevant or even dangerous to the program of progress.  It is from that perspective that the pope concludes that we need God, and that:

There is no doubt, therefore, that a “Kingdom of God” accomplished without God—a kingdom therefore of man alone—inevitably ends up as the “perverse end” of all things as described by Kant: we have seen it, and we see it over and over again. (ibid.)

As Catholics, we know this to be true, how much we need God in our lives.  And thankfully, the Lord has made His presence in our lives something very real and personal.  Jesus has left us the great gift of His presence in the sacraments by which He not only remains with us, but that He actually dwells in us, guiding our lives with His grace through the challenges of this life toward our final destination in Heaven, the final goal of our hope.  As we celebrate Corpus Christi this Sunday, we are especially grateful for the gift of the Eucharist by which Jesus nourishes us, giving us the strength we need to persevere along this path of life.

We are also grateful for the gift of His presence with us in the Church, whose birth we celebrated two weeks ago on Pentecost.  In particular, we are grateful that He, the Good Shepherd, has arranged that His flock be continually cared for by the shepherds He has appointed, namely the Apostles and their successors, the bishops.  In the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen Gentium) from the Second Vatican Council, the bishop is described as follows:

Bishops, as vicars and ambassadors of Christ, govern the particular churches entrusted to them by their counsel, exhortations, example, and even by their authority and sacred power, which indeed they use only for the edification of their flock in truth and holiness, remembering that he who is greater should become as the lesser and he who is the chief become as the servant. (Lumen Gentium, 27)

Today, we celebrate with great joy our local shepherd, Bishop Thomas John Paprocki, who, as of today, June 22, has been with us as our bishop for the 15 years.  The entire diocese has been blessed by his leadership, and we at the Cathedral have had the benefit of his regular presence among us, especially in so many of our liturgical celebrations.  

I am most grateful to God for the gift that Bishop Paprocki has been to our diocese, to our parish, and to me personally.  As he mentioned at this year’s priesthood ordination, he has now ordained 40 men to the priesthood for our diocese over his 15 years here.  I am humbled to have been the first of that group back in 2011.  Having lived and worked with him for most of my priesthood, I can confidently say that much of who I am as a priest is thanks to his example, his fatherly leadership, and his friendship.

Please join me in thanking God this day for Bishop Paprocki on his anniversary of his installation as our bishop, and that the Lord will bless him abundantly in the years ahead.

Veni, pater pauperum, Come, father of the poor,
veni, dator munerum come, giver of gifts,
veni, lumen cordium. come, light of the heart.

The early Church Fathers loved to wonder at the greatness of God and his Transcendence – a not-so-often used word that refers to God’s unspeakable and indescribable perfection. He is majestic. He is truly “other.” He is God and we are not. He is all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving, and everywhere – and yet outside of space and time! He is perfect, one, good, true, beautiful, etc. But even these high words used to describe him fall short because we human beings cannot imagine the intensity of perfection, oneness, goodness, truth, and beauty that is “God.” With the revelation of the Trinity of persons, we may have a sense that we “understand” more about Him, but in all reality, it only deepens the mystery. He is Love… and again, the. word. falls. short.

A theological phrase used in the Middle Ages reads, bonum diffusivum sui, “Goodness pours itself out.” God has, in a way, built his “way of existing” into reality – he is a God who pours himself out, and this action we call goodness. In a way, He can’t help Himself, because it is who He is, and He does so in pure freedom, without coercion or force.

He made us.

We exist in the position of one who has received a great gift and can in no way repay it. We exist. We didn’t have to, but we do. He wanted us to exist, and we therefore read, “you love all things that are and loathe nothing that you have made, for you would not fashion what you hate… O Ruler and Lover of souls” (Wisdom 11:24-26). And with the Psalmist, we cry out, “What return can I make to the Lord for all the goodness he has shown to me?” (Psalm 116:12)

Thankfully, he does not expect a “repayment” for that gift. Instead, he only expects us to follow him so that he can give us even more. The sheer goodness of this God is unimaginable. 

And in this beautiful stanza of the Pentecost sequence, the Holy Spirit in particular is praised for his goodness. We ask him to come to us, he who is THE GIFT from the Father and the Son. The greatest gift given by God to us is God himself, the Holy Spirit, who comes only to lavish more and more gifts of grace on us. 

In Psalm 145, God is described as a very happy giver of gifts. We read, “The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food in due season. You open your hand, you satisfy the desire of every living thing.” The Holy Spirit is truly the fulfillment of every desire of every living thing. We want life – He is life itself. We want happiness – He is the cause of all joy, and the source of Jesus’ own joy. We want peace – He is the peace of God’s inner life. We want rest – He is where the Father and Son go to rest. We want light – He is light, understanding, wisdom, and knowledge. 

May the Holy Spirit fill our hearts with His generosity. Come Holy Spirit, set us on fire with your Love!