If I had the ability to travel back in time and witness any moment in the history of the Church, I think one of the most fascinating to revisit would be at its very beginning, on the day of Pentecost. In many ways, I feel like we’ve been chasing the explosive success of that moment ever since: Supernaturally efficacious preaching, literally thousands of conversions, and profound spiritual growth within their community in the days that followed. What more could any evangelist hope for?
As a priest and pastor, I often reflect on the beauty of that feast day, especially in the moments where my own preaching or ministry seem to fall short. What was it that made that day so different, or the preaching of the apostles so powerful? (And, we might wonder, how can we capture a bit of that dynamism for ourselves?) In those moments—at least for me—there is a real temptation to focus on the externals of that success and try to replicate their concrete results, by coming up with some new and practical way to share the truths of our faith with different people, different communities, and different demographics.
To be fair, it’s not a bad thing to ask those questions, and many beautiful programs and initiatives exist in the Church today as creative answers to those needs. Taken on their own, however, we find that they are still hollow and lacking, somehow unable to spark that same fire that burned in the hearts of those who heard the Gospel proclaimed on that first day of Pentecost. Many of us even experience this even outside of ministry in our own personal relationships when we struggle to share our faith with a friend or family member, and wonder later if we would have been a more compelling witness if we’d had just the right words or arguments on the tip of our tongues.
What are we missing?
With prayer and humility, I think the answer should be clear; the missing factor is, of course, the Holy Spirit.
The real power behind the preaching was not in the words of the apostles, but rather in the tongues of fire. We might recall that Our Blessed Mother, Mary, whom we celebrate as the Queen of Apostles and our perfect exemplar of devotion and holiness, was not among those speaking to the crowds. Instead, she was, and remains, the contemplative heart of the Church, giving life to its prophetic ministries through her prayers and total union with the Holy Spirit.
This is a principle that should give concrete direction to the way that each of us orders our lives, ministries, and relationships, because if the most essential force behind our proclamation of the Gospel belongs to God’s initiative, and not our own, then it follows that the most dynamic way for our preaching to begin is—perhaps counterintuitively—with contemplation.
I know from my own experience that if we do not first begin with real, authentic prayer, enough to nourish both ourselves and others in the midst of their active lives, then it’s only natural that we will try to substitute our own limited energy and efforts in place of the Lord’s own action and make an idol of our own plans in the process. Sooner or later, when our energy runs dry and our ingenuity fades, we’ll find ourselves back where we started, longing for that fire of renewal that only the Spirit can produce.
Perhaps, then, we can try things a different way, and learn from this beautiful feast to start from that place of prayer, and recognize that in the end it won’t be our words, but rather the Word of God, that will truly change the world.
Fr. Cassidy Stinson is a priest of the Diocese of Richmond and serves as pastor of St. Jude Catholic Church in Christiansburg, VA. He is in his second year of formation with the Institute of Jesus Priest, an institute the Pauline Family. Father Cassidy’s social media bio: Catholic priest, wildlife chaser, aspiring apostle / Let us make of ourselves the pen and tongue of Jesus Christ, our Master. Follow Father Cassidy on Instagram.
