Veni Creator Spiritus - Invocation of the Holy Spirit

From Piddflicks

Veni Creator Spiritus ("Come Creator Spirit") is a hymn believed to have been written by Rabanus Maurus in the 9th century. When the original Latin text is used, it is normally sung in Gregorian Chant. As an invocation of the Holy Spirit, in the Roman Catholic Church it is sung at the feast of Pentecost (Terce and Vespers). It is also sung at occasions such as the entrance of Cardinals to the Sistine Chapel, the election of a pope, as well as at the ordination of bishops and priests, at the sacrament of Confirmation, the dedication of churches, the celebration of synods or councils, the coronation of Kings and Queens, the profession of members of religious institutes and other similar solemn events. 

The hymn in English is also widely used in the Anglican Communion at the ordination of Bishops and Priests. 

Sung purely by les Moines bénédictin de l'abbaye Saint-Martin de Ligugé

Father Rutler: The Holy Spirit

Father George W. Rutler

The poet W.H. Auden once lectured me about the wrongness of modern translations rendering Holy Ghost as Holy Spirit. His frail case was that there are certain drinks, too, that can be called spirits. This made no sense. “Spirit” is a Latinism far older than “Ghost,” which goes back no further than the Old English “gast” and the German “Geist.” As a matter of taste, preference for “Ghost” is as anachronistic as thinking that the Baroque style of chasubles sometimes called the “fiddleback” is much more traditional than the Gothic style.
 

The Hebrew word for spirit, “ruach,” sounds like breathing, and pneumatic tires are called that after the Greek word for wind. There is indeed a “variety of spirits,” but to confuse the Holy Spirit with any vague parody is foggy superstition. The apostles mistook Jesus for a ghost when he walked on water, and they only knew that his risen body was not a ghost when he ate fish and honey. A modern form of superstition is the vague emotionalism of those who say that they are spiritual but not religious. The Master will have none of that, for he is Truth: “The words that I speak to you are spirit, and they are life” (John 6:63).
 

Christ told the disciples after the Resurrection that he must leave this world of time and space in order to send the Holy Spirit. There are on record fifteen appearances of the Risen Christ, including three after Pentecost: once seen by Stephen as he was dying, another speaking to Paul on the way to Damascus, and then to John on Patmos. But each appearance was followed by a disappearance enabling the Holy Spirit, as the bond of love between the Father and the Son, to invigorate the Church.
 

By what seems a paradox, because the actions intersect time and eternity, Christ goes away so that through his Holy Spirit he can be with us always. This becomes most graphic each day at Mass when the Holy Spirit is invoked upon the bread and wine so that they become Christ’s body and blood. That moment on the Eucharistic altar fulfills the prehistoric instant when God breathed his spirit into Adam and, countless ages before that, when the Spirit of God “moved upon the face of the waters” and began everything.
 

None of this is conjecture, because it is a response to actual events: “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you” (John 14:26). The Fountain of Youth that explorers in futility tried to find, like pharmacists and cosmetic surgeons today, is a ghostly illusion and a superstitious cipher for life eternal: “You send forth your Spirit, they are created; and you renew the face of the earth” (Psalm 104:30).

 

Father Rutler: The Holy Spirit

A weekly column by Father George Rutler.

Following Pentecost, the Apostles discussed whether someone had to become a Jew to be a Christian. It seems an odd problem for us today, but everything was new then, and even the term “Christian” was not used until a significant number of believers had been baptized in Antioch, a city in Turkey near the modern city of Antakya. Christ (the name is a Greek form of “Messiah”) sent his followers out to convert “all nations,” and he promised that the Holy Spirit would show them what to do.

After the Holy Spirit came down on the Apostles at Pentecost, the prime question of Judaic observance was debated. Paul and Barnabas went to Jerusalem and consulted with the other Apostles. This was a hint of how the Church was to resolve matters in great Councils. Given the stolid temperament and vivid personalities of the Apostles, the term “debated” might be an understatement. But they remembered that the Risen Lord had promised that his “Paraclete” would guide them. Only rarely does ancient Greek use that term, as when the orator Demosthenes used it for a sort of legal advocate, and not necessarily an ethical one at that. But Christ makes it mean the Third Person of the Holy Trinity. How the Apostles were helped by this divine Helper is not said, but they sent their decision to the scattered Christians, beginning with the words “It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us.”

To claim private guidance from the Holy Spirit that departs from what has inspired the collective agreement of the successors of the Apostles, would be to confuse personal opinion with divine truth. But the Holy Spirit does help us in the ways of truth every day. Sometimes he even works through children: “. . . and a little child shall lead them” (Isaiah 11:6). The birth of a child may convert a parent to more intense faith, or a child's First Communion may inspire a young father to return to Confession. The Holy Spirit works through encounters that are often unnoticed. Yogi Berra, not to be underestimated as a philosopher, said, “Some things are just too coincidental to be a coincidence.”

Our Lord requires of us only “meekness” to be helped by the Holy Spirit. The spiritually “meek” are not milquetoasts, or spineless wimps. The Greek praus for “meek” means controlled strength, a suppleness like that of an athlete. Without praus, a surfer would stand stiff and soon fall off the surfboard, and a boxer would be knocked out with the first punch without agile footwork. God calls the arrogant, who will not bend their opinions to his truth, a “stiff-necked people” (Exodus 32:9). Arrogance, as the opposite of meekness, is spiritual arthritis. Get rid of that moral stiffness, and then “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you” (John 14:26).