Come, Holy Ghost: The Spirit of Order and Fire

The Anglican tradition has always lived in the tension between order and fire — between the structured beauty of the liturgy and the unpredictable movement of the Spirit. Pentecost holds both. The Spirit fell with violent wind and tongues of fire — that is the fire. But the Spirit also created a community "devoted to the apostles' teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer" — that is the order. The Spirit is not either/or. The Spirit is both: wild and structured, unpredictable and consistent, fire and framework. The Pentecost collect from the Prayer Book captures this: "God, who as at this time didst teach the hearts of thy faithful people, by sending to them the light of thy Holy Spirit: Grant us by the same Spirit to have a right judgment in all things, and evermore to rejoice in his holy comfort." Notice: "right judgment" (order) and "holy comfort" (fire). The Spirit gives both the clarity to think rightly and the warmth to worship joyfully. This is the via media applied to pneumatology. The Anglican way does not choose between the charismatic and the liturgical. It insists that the Spirit works in the structured beauty of the Eucharist and in the spontaneous cry of the heart. The Spirit writes poetry and follows rubrics. The Spirit is ordered fire.

At Pentecost, the Spirit did not impose a single language. He honored fifteen. The crowd heard the Gospel in Parthian, Median, Elamite, Mesopotamian, Cappadocian, and a dozen more. The Spirit's first act was to affirm diversity — to say that the Gospel is not the property of one culture, one language, one tradition. The Anglican Communion understands this instinctively. With provinces on every continent — from Canterbury to Lagos, from Sydney to Toronto — the Anglican family is one of the most culturally diverse Christian communions in the world. We worship in hundreds of languages. We hold together traditions that range from Anglo-Catholic to evangelical, from charismatic to contemplative. And we do this not despite the Spirit, but because of the Spirit. The unity of the church is not uniformity. It is communion — the shared participation in the one Spirit who takes many forms and speaks many languages. The Spirit who fell at Pentecost did not melt the cultural differences. He sanctified them. He spoke through them. He made them the vehicle of the Gospel. "There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit distributes them." Paul's words to the Corinthians could be the motto of Anglicanism. One Spirit, many expressions. One faith, many traditions. One church, many tongues. That is Pentecost. That is the Anglican way.

The great Pentecost hymn of the Anglican tradition is Veni Creator Spiritus — "Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire." It has been sung at ordinations, at coronations, and at Pentecost services for over a thousand years. And its words are a prayer, not a description: "Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, and lighten with celestial fire. Thou the anointing Spirit art, who dost thy sevenfold gifts impart." The sevenfold gifts of the Spirit (wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord) are not just for the ordained. They are for every baptized person. Pentecost is the promise that the Spirit's gifts are distributed broadly — to sons and daughters, to young and old, to every member of the body. The Anglican tradition at its best is a Pentecost community: ordered in its worship, fired by the Spirit, diverse in its expressions, united in its faith, and gifted for the common good. We do not claim to have the Spirit cornered. We claim that the Spirit has cornered us — in the liturgy, in the Word, in the sacraments, in the community — and will not let us go. Come, Holy Ghost. Our souls need inspiring. Our church needs lighting. Our world needs the celestial fire. Come.