Andens frånvaro, Andens närvaro

Det var en gryning i pingsttid, under de där timmarna när bara klosterfolk, tidningsbud och bagare är uppstigna. Ljuset forsade redan in i genom de stora kyrkfönstren och en vitklädd nunna ställde sig upp för att läsa en text av Karl Rahner. Jag hade varit välsignat bortkopplad och avskuren från medierna under någon vecka, ändå blev hennes stadiga läsning av Rahners förtröstansfulla ord för mig en kommentar till alla de anklagelser vi kristna riktar mot varandra, i offentligheten och i våra hjärtan:

We so-called good christians may often have the agonizing impression that the Spirit of God has forgotten us. In our own lives and in the life of the Church, that great dwelling and temple of the Holy Spirit, we may often think that we are too little aware of the Spirit of God and his free but powerful sway. We may feel that we detect in and around us much of the letter and little of the Spirit, many commands and little freedom, much of external work and little heartfelt love, much fear and trembling and little bold trust, much duty and little charisma, much timid fear before God and little joyous confidence in his goodness, much love for the world and little for eternity. In short, we may think we find in and around us too much of the spirit of the world and too little of the Spirit of the Father. While these impressions may frequently be valid, there is usually something false in them, too. Something false, I say, because the human eye cannot detect the Spirit in us and in the Church. And if we feel how little we are truly men and women of the Spirit, we are usually once again ensnared in a false idea of God’s Spirit and of his work in the Church. And that is the reason why daily conversion and reflection are especially necessary.

[…]

If we reflect in this way, then we shall perceive over and over again with trembling joy that he is there, that he is with us: the Spirit of faith in darkness, the Spirit of freedom in obedience, the Spirit of  joy in tears, the Spirit of eternal life in the midst of death. Then we are filled, in all the insignificance and silence of this world, in all the sober realism of everyday life, with the holy conviction that he is there, he is with us. He prays with unspeakable groanings in each one’s heart. He consoles and strengthens, he heals and helps, he gives the certainty of eternal life. But we must reflect anew, each day.

(Ur Karl Rahner: The Eternal Year 1964, övers. John Shea.)

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