Spirited charisms

When I was five, I knew the Holy Spirit as the Holy Ghost. I saw Him as one of my guardian angels, friendly like Casper, who would play with me and keep me safe. Then He became the Holy Spirit and somehow, by virtue of the name change and my growing up, faded into invisibility.

God was my distant father, loving but stern, and Jesus was some bygone super-hero who performed miracles. To be admired, but from a distance. Father, Son and Holy Spirit, like relatives who lived in another country. We were bonded in a unique way, but we never saw each other much.

Things changed the day, as B. would put it, I got zapped. Big time. The charismatics will say I met Jesus. I like to describe it as the day I fell in love with the love of my life.

The music played and the angels sang as the sun came out from behind the clouds and shone its deliciously warm, ambient rays on a magnificent rainbow in the sky.

Sure, it didn't happen in a flash, more like a diver slowly surfacing after a deep dive, but it was nonetheless dramatic. And life-changing.

God became my compassionate father who forgave me all my sins.

Jesus became heroically human and real to me and began performing miracles in my life.

The Holy Spirit blew away the cobwebs distorting my vision, refreshed my parched, shrivelled soul and lit a fire within.

From that point onwards, there was no turning back.

I have since gotten to know the tenets of Catholicism well. I was astounded to discover how rich and complex in flavours and textures my religion was, much like my favourite hazelnut chocolate torte, and just as rewarding.

I continue to be amazed at how alive and vibrant my relationship with my Triune God can be.

As I mature in my faith journey, I become more aware of my mission in life: sharing His love with others. Simple, but not exactly easy to accomplish for every act of giving involves exposing myself to hostility and rejection, while I cannot, must not, expect anything in return.

What does make it easy is His bountiful love – not only the fruit, but the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Charisms, or what Pope John Paul II calls extraordinary gifts that are not necessarily miraculous in nature, but are given to each of us to help us “in the service of others and the welfare of the Church”, bringing Christ’s love to the world.

These special graces are unique to each person and come in diverse and multiple forms such as wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety and fear of God, to name a few. (By the way, the gift of tongues is not a charism for as Fr. Robert Faricy put it, “Any idiot can babble in tongues,” and it is a gift of contemplative prayer more for self-sanctification.)

Of course we must want the gifts and claim them, be grateful for them as they are bestowed, and treasure them by sharing them, for they are not meant for self-edification or sanctification.

This past Pentecost, I asked for a renewal of Spirit to nourish my faith. Ever generous, Father, Son and Holy Spirit responded. Now it’s up to me to live up to and live out my baptismal promises with the charisms He has given me.