A story is told about a wealthy oil baron who
once commissioned Picasso to paint a portrait of his wife. When the work
was completed, the baron was shocked to see the image that had been created.
Outraged, he said to Picasso, "Why that looks nothing like my wife!
You should have painted her the way she really is!"
Picasso took a deep breath and said, "I'm not sure what that would
be."
Immediately the oil baron pulled out his wallet and removed a photograph
of his wife saying, "There, you see, this picture is how she really
is!"
Picasso, bending over, looked at it and replied, "She is rather small
and flat, isn't she?"
The Pentecost experience is viewed from many perspectives. Luke in the Acts
of the Apostles describes a dramatic event in which the disciples are infused
with tongues of fire that enable them to be understood by all who listen.
St. Paul speaks of the gifts of the Spirit that unites us in one body. John
envisions the coming of the Spirit as something gentle and quiet. The Spirit's
coming is like breath that gives life to forgiveness and reconciliation.
I'd like to focus on Luke's account of this event today, but from the perspective
of the power of words. We use so many words that we sometimes forget the
power that lives within the words that we use.
Recently, I was with a group of young parents and their children. The mother
of two of the children was leaving. She said to one child, "You'd better
listen and behave." Then turning to the other child said, "I love
you. You're such a good girl." I was disquieted by these words. I know
that she loves both of her children. Yet, her words indicated to me a preference.
It is easy for us to fall into habits that lead us to speak without really
listening to the words that we are using. Words have the power to enliven
and to demean. They have the power to build up relationships and to tear
them down. They can capture our inner feelings and keep people from getting
close.
|