Conceptually, the Holy Spirit is enigmatic. Not until we discuss the specifics of the Spirit at work do we begin to understand the Pentecost: we less can explain Holy Spirit than we can the Spirit manifest.
We’ve all known people through whom we know God is at work. Acts of extraordinary generosity expose them, or instances of everyday and awesome kindness. There are those from whom the Spirit shines.
Paul said, “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good” (1 Corinthians 12:7). God will work through some by making them prophets, through others by gifting with them with the ability to impart faith, or knowledge, or healing (1 Corinthians 12:6-10). Where the truth of the Holy shines most brilliantly through, there are the Spirit filled—those chosen by God to be as angels to us during our time here on Earth.
I was fortunate enough to see the Spirit at work through my friend Shannon, who had the ability to increase the faith and awe of others just by being who she was. I’ll always think of her presence in my life as a grace.
I met Shannon in college. My roommates and I sent an e-mail through the church listserv seeking a new housemate, and Shannon was our fortunate find. We loved her instantly. She was bubbly and kind, and when she spoke about God, her words were filled with a grace that humbled. Her days were infused with faith. She wanted to make the world better.
Shannon had a habit of forcing me to be a better Christian. During Lent, I got up early to make 8 a.m. Mass with her, driven mostly by the agreement we’d made to both go. She encouraged me to attend evening rosaries. We talked about God and the future of the Church, and Shannon’s insights were unflinchingly optimistic.
Inside of the pews, and outside of the church, her face tended to be incandescent: she was lit by her prayerfulness and her hope. I couldn’t always summon up faithful feelings beyond my cynicism, but it was as if Shannon didn’t know doubt.
None of this is meant to suggest she was superhuman. My friend also had an uncanny sense of humor, and probably made mistakes of which I am not aware. What I know is that, even when I disagreed with her, I couldn’t lose respect for her: her positions and opinions were never selfishly derived, which lent her, in all situations, moral credibility that couldn’t be pierced.
After college, Shannon became a mother, and began passing her verve for life onto her little girl. We stopped seeing each other daily, but I kept track of her as her days progressed. She continued work with Pure Fashion shows, which she’d always told me encouraged women to be cute and fashionable while still commanding the respect they were due as human beings. She reentered school. She welcomed a second beautiful, and beloved, baby into the world. She fell in love.
I’ll never doubt that the Holy Spirit was at work in my friend Shannon. By example, she encouraged me to be a better Christian and a more hopeful human being. She was the beacon of joy to counter doubt I felt in my spiritual life; she was the certitude that cancelled out confusion. Heaven was at work in Shannon. God was at home amongst us in her.
It is easy for us to spot the Spirit at work in such people and impossible to make sense of it when that light is snuffed out. Certainly the world is rife with God’s creatures, but we don’t often meet such shining examples of his work; losing one is a blow equal to the feeling of having God hide the Divine countenance from our sight (Psalm 104). If we come to know God through the works of the Spirit, how do we make sense of the loss of the Spirit-filled?
My friend Shannon was murdered this weekend. Her two babies lost a wonderful mother, and her friends and loved ones a source of great joy, love and spiritual sustenance. Nothing can be said to make sense of this. There is no positive spin; there is no appealing to fate; there is only the void. This world that she lit feels her loss.
In our grief we feel only her absence. It’s my hope, though, that someday her children will be blessed with stories of the beautiful life which Shannon led: of the work which she did, of the goodness she embodied, of her loving generosity, and of the gifts she worked diligently to give them. It’s my hope that they, too, will come to see that the Spirit was at work in Shannon, and that they’ll know that for a brief time, they were blessed by having her as a mother.
God was at work in my friend. I pray that God will continue to be.
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