What in the world am I talking about? Whitsunday is one of the great, ancient feast days of the Church, occurring fifty days after Easter. Whitmonday used to be a public holiday in England, but, alas, they've been forced into something like our Monday Holiday Bill, and now it's the last Monday of May (which coincides with Whitmonday this year).
So, what is it? Outside of England, Whitsuntide is known as the season of Pentecost. Depending upon the flavor of church, yesterday was either the Solemnity of Pentecost or the Feast of Pentecost. And yet, what is Pentecost, you say?
Pentecost is the observance of the events described in the Acts of the Apostles, a book in the Christian New Testament and Bible, where the followers of the recently executed Jesus were gathered in a room, the room filled with the rushing winds, and tongues of fire descended upon each of them. This was interpreted as the time when the Holy Spirit descended upon each of them, filling them and giving each of them the ability to speak in other languages.
This has a lot of symbolism for the modern Church, especially the idea of baptism by fire and the "gift of tongues," leading many in the charismatic branches of the church to demonstrate their faith by mumbling the unintelligible gibberish they call "speaking in tongues."
But, what I like to focus on and think about is the rushing wind; it's an important symbol usually overlooked in the idea of Pentecost. Let's look at the second chapter of Acts, verse two. In the New American Bible (the Catholic version), it says, "And suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind, and it filled the entire house in which they were." In the King James Version (the Protestant version), it says, "And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting."
While we're thinking about Bible verses, let me throw out another passage, and I'll explain the link later. Here are the first two verses of the Gospel according to St. John. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God." (KJV) "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God." (NAB)
Now, there's one more think I want to throw out. I'm big on looking at "original source material" when doing scholarly research—it's the professor in me—so when talking about Biblical matters, I want to study the Aramaic, Hebrew, and Greek that were the original languages of the written books of the Bible. Most of the New Testament, especially John and Acts, originally were written in Greek. When we look at the Greek here, as it talks about the Holy Spirit, the Greek doesn't use the word for "spirit," or even "ghost," as it was commonly translated by the Jacobean English. It uses the word πνεύμα, pronounced "pneuma." You may be familiar with pneuma as the root word for things like "pneumatic" or "pneumonia." "Pneuma" means "breath." We don't have as a part of the Holy Trinity a holy spirit or ghost or spector, we have a "Holy Breath." The Breath of God.
Think of all the ways the Breath of God comes into our lives. If you look at the quote above from John, how is the word—language—carried? On the breath. When we give someone artificial respiration, what do we do? We breathe into them and fill them with our breath. When someone dies, what happens? Their breath leaves them, sometimes quite dramatically. Even with tongues of fire, what does fire need to keep burning? Oxygen/air/wind/breath. With this emphasis on breath and wind, it's easy to see how early man attributed wind storms, tornados, and hurricanes as expressions of displeasure of the god(s). We also have that wind in the overall concept of our idllyic settings—the breeze gently rustling through the trees or keeping the palms trees gently swaying—whereby our environment and life is filled with the Holy Breath.
People for millennia have asked the questions about what makes Man animate, intelligent, and special. They have developed the concept of a "soul" for Man. Those in the Abramaic tradition—Jews, Christians, and Muslims—believe that it is the "soul" that makes Man better than other animals and why only humans and not other animals go to Heaven (no, Virginia, all dogs do NOT go to heaven). This idea of Man being filled with some special energy or force or breath is not unique to the Abramaic religions. It appears in religious traditions all over the world, whether it be the "spirit" in all living things of many American Indian tribes or the ancient Egyptian ka that provided the life force for all living things (the motivation for mummies was so the ka could reunite with the physical body in the afterworld). Is all of this just different manifestations of the concept of the Holy Breath?
Thus, all of this brings us around to the idea of creation stories. Let's look again at the Bible, this time, the first few verses of Genesis. "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said...." (KJV) "In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless wasteland, and darkness covered the abyss, while a mighty wind swept over the waters. Then God said...." (NAB) There it is again, the Breath as Spirit and Wind and Word, in our very creation.
This is what Pentecost is all about. Sure, it's a celebration of Jesus's followers receiving the Holy Spirit, but, to me at least, it is, more importantly, a Feast of the Holy Spirit.
Yesterday I celebrated the Solemnity of Pentecost by going to the nine o'clock Mass at St. Stephen Martyr. Since the choir performs at the eleven o'clock, this was just a cantored Mass with organ.
The processional hymn was Lambillotte (Come, Holy Ghost, Creator blest), Veni Sancte Spiritus, Mode I plainsong, was the sequence hymn, Down Ampney (Come down, O Love divine) was the offertory hymn, Dieu, Nous Avons Vu Ta Gloire (God, Your glory we have seen in Your Christ) was the communion hymn, and Nun komme der Heiden Heiland (Fire of God, undying flame) was the recessional hymn.
They did Martin How's Parish Communion Service Gloria, Howard Hughes' Mass of the Divine Word for all the Sanctus and communion acclamations, and plainsong chants for the Kyrie and Agnus Dei. The psalm antiphon and the Gospel acclamation were compositions of the organist/choirmaster.
Monsignor was celebrant and homilist. I've no idea what he said in the homily, since I wasn't listening. It was no fault of his; I just immediately grabbed a hymnal when he started because I wanted to look up some things, and that occupied the homily time. I did notice, though, that when we was at the ambo (a/k/a pulpit), the lighting there made his red chasuble glow. An interesting analogy to the fire theme of the day, eh?
