Pentecost Sunday

Like most cradle Catholics of my generation, I was confirmed as a sophomore in high school. The event was most memorable for the length of the mass, meeting the bishop in person (in his mitre, of course), and the party at our house afterward. It felt like graduation from Catechism.

The first Pentecost set followers of Christ on a courageous path of conviction, self-sacrifice and evangelization. In the responsorial psalm today we recite, “Lord, send out your Spirit, and renew the face of the earth.” Like my initial impression of the Holy Spirit from my confirmation, it might be easy to gloss over these powerful words.

My confirmation seemed more a rite of passage associated with my age at the time, than having much to do with conversion. I knew intellectually that the Sacrament was about receiving the Holy Spirit, but I do not I remember feeling much about the presence of the Spirit.

Conversion initially caught up with me a few years after my confirmation. I was trying out different activities looking for an extracurricular activity to help keep me sane amidst demanding freshman engineering school classes. The first Saturday I picked up a hammer on a Habitat for Humanity construction site, changed the rest of my life. I was on site every weekend after that, and spent alternative spring breaks building houses in Florida.

Like the baptism of early believers, these experiences set the path of my life in a new direction. A combination of my disillusionment with a corporate career, experience of joy and meaning in God’s love and a conviction to serve others, led my initial service in Tanzania with the Peace Corps.

A number of years later, while I continued to work in Tanzania as a program manager, I encountered Maryknoll through visits to a retreat house in Mwanza, founded by Fr. Jim Eble, MM, called The Lake House of Prayer. Though I had been skeptical about mission, the serenity of the retreat house captured my heart.

Looking back on my conversions and discernment over the thirty years since my confirmation, I see not only times of desolation and consolation (in the words of Ignatius), but also in-between times. The Lake House of Prayer overlooks Lake Victoria, where fishermen ply in traditional dhows — boats that depend on the wind to propel their sails. Their expeditions invite metaphor. Often there is only just enough wind coming off the shore in the morning to send the fishermen out. Sometimes the winds die and the boats are stuck in doldrums. Other times, a storm brews on the lake, sending the fishermen to seek shelter on land. By afternoon, there tends to be enough breeze to get back to the shore, hopefully with a catch.

Questions for Reflection

• Are there areas of your life, in which you feel propelled by the Holy Spirit, like the winds on Lake Victoria propel the fisherman’s dhow?
• Do you sometimes feel God’s presence in your life in a powerful way, or at other times wonder where God is present?