The church I grew up in, a small church sandwiched between a TV repair shop and a donut store, wasn’t big enough to have a youth group. But I cut my teeth on Christianity in that church. We were a little band of harsh-toned New Yorkers who knew how to work hard, to make due, and to have fun together. I learned three things about the Holy Spirit in that church.
Christians receive the Holy Spirit at baptism. Call me nerdy, but I memorized every verse in the New Testament on baptism, verses like Acts 2:38, which you’ll find at the tail end of the first recorded sermon in Christian history, when Peter tells his hearers to “repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” The belief that Christians receive the Spirit at baptism was a key marker of my church. I debated endlessly with Lois, my French-horn-playing Baptist friend in high school, who believed that baptism is an act of obedience, which follows but doesn’t prompt the reception of the Spirit.
I learned that speaking in tongues was not welcome. We were a church of immigrants. On occasion, local barber Xavier Munisteri would launch out in the middle of Sunday morning worship with a blather of languages I didn’t understand. I figured he was speaking Spanish. (He was Italian, but I thought he was Puerto Rican, since the only barbers I’d met, at Hempstead Turnpike’s Mr. Haircut—a buck a cut—were Puerto Rican.) Turns out he wasn’t speaking Spanish. He was speaking in tongues. My mother told me just last year that Xavier was asked to leave. Speaking in tongues was not welcome.
The church also taught me that we could figure out our spiritual gifts. Gifts like teaching, administration, service, and encouragement, which the apostle Paul listed in letters to churches in Corinth and Rome. We filled out long inventories of spiritual gifts, which helped us to identify what part we should play in the body of Christ with our particular gift.
I didn’t learn much about the Holy Spirit, did I? I don’t even agree with all that I learned. But this I do know. There is so much more to learn about the Holy Spirit! So for thirty years I’ve been hard at it. I taught my first course on the Holy Spirit in the Letters of Paul during my first year as a seminary professor back in 1986. I wrote my first article on the Holy Spirit in a National Endowment for the Humanities Summer Seminar in 1992. I spent 1994, my first sabbatical leave in Tübingen, Germany, writing my first book on the Holy Spirit, The Spirit in First-Century Judaism.
And I’ve been hard at it ever since. Whenever I write about other topics, I itch to get back to the Holy Spirit. Whenever I’m asked to teach in churches, I teach about the Holy Spirit. Whenever I blog, I tend to blog about the Holy Spirit. Whenever I find my mind wandering, it’s usually in the realm of the Holy Spirit.
If you, like me, feel you’ve still got much more to learn—much more to experience, too—about the Holy Spirit, then this book is for you. It’s not a seminary textbook. It’s certainly not the final word on the Holy Spirit. It’s intended to prompt you to reflect at your own pace and to absorb, slowly and deliberately, the presence of the Holy Spirit in your life, your community of faith, and the world. I hope, too, after you’ve spent forty days with this book, you’ll say, There is so much more to learn about the Holy Spirit!
Let’s talk translation and begin with a brief lesson in ancient languages. Don’t worry—this really will be brief. Get your coffee or tea. Relax for a minute while I chatter a bit about a magnificent word—spirit.
The Bible was written originally in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek. We’ll stick to the Hebrew—the earliest language, and the language of what Jews call Tanak and Christians the Old Testament. The original Hebrew word for spirit conveyed a mind-boggling array of concepts, from breath to breeze, powerful gale, angel, demon, a disposition like (a “spirit of”) lust or jealousy, and the divine presence. That’s a remarkable range of meanings, and it’s absolutely essential to keep in mind that a single word in Hebrew (ruach—the ch is pronounced gutturally, as if you’re clearing your throat, not as cha cha cha) can convey all of these meanings.
You’ll see this right away by cracking open a Bible to the first page. Glance at a couple of translations of Genesis 1:1–2, and you’ll grasp this.
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. (NIV)
In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth … a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. (NRSV)
Right at the start, in the Bible’s sixteenth Hebrew word, we face this question: Is ruach wind or Spirit? The meaning of ruach is so puzzling, in fact, that the NRSV includes a note to Genesis 1:2 with other possible translations: “while the spirit of God” or “while a mighty wind.”
All of this may seem confusing, but the Hebrew word ruach actually opens the window to a world of mystery, a vista of possibilities that encompass breath, winds, and divine Spirit. It’s like the wardrobe that opens to the world of Narnia—into which you are invited to step. It’s like an old keyhole you’d peek through to glimpse a hidden room—into which you’re invited to look. It’s like the passageway Alice falls through to enter Wonderland—into which you are now invited to tumble.
Forty days
Why forty days? That’s not a hard question to answer. Moses waited on Mt. Sinai for forty days for the Ten Commandments—twice!1 Moses sent spies to scope out the Promised Land for forty days.2 Philistine giant Goliath taunted Israel for forty days before David struck him dead with his trusty slingshot.3 Famed prophet Elijah escaped from Jezebel for forty days in a cave on Mt. Sinai.4 The idiosyncratic prophet Ezekiel lay on his right side for forty days to symbolize the punishment of his people, at the hands of Babylon, for forty years.5 God offered ancient Nineveh, the capital of Assyria, forty days to change their ways in the days of Jonah.6 Jesus spent forty days in the desert at the start of it all,7 and forty days after his resurrection teaching his disciples about the kingdom of God.8
Forty days represent waiting and expectation (Moses), discovery (Joshua and Caleb), safety (Elijah), threat (Goliath), grief (Ezekiel), an opportunity to change (Nineveh), preparing for the future or tying up loose ends (Jesus). These forty days, the ones that lie before you, may reflect any of these. Are you full of expectation? Ready to explore? Desperate for time away from the fray? Are you confronting some threat? Grieving for your church or your nation? Do you need a block of time to change something about your life? Are you staring at something new or finishing something up? Wherever you find yourself, you will discover ample resources in Forty Days with the Holy Spirit, as you practice the presence of the Holy Spirit.
Seven verbs
Before you read any further, do me a favor. Turn the page and glance at the table of contents, where you’ll see seven verbs. There is a sequence to these verbs. They lead from deep within to the world outside.
BREATHING
It’s easy in English to distinguish between breath and Spirit, but in Hebrew, breath and Spirit reflect the same word, ruach, so it’s better to speak of Spirit-breath. In our first days together, we’ll become attentive to God’s Spirit-breath within each of us.
PRAYING
Settled, able to breathe deeply, we turn to prayer. Not so much prayer as request but prayer as rejuvenation: listening, receiving, and whispering, “Abba. Father.”
PRACTICING
A robust spiritual life doesn’t grow naturally. It needs tending, with an eye to the long haul rather than to bursts of enthusiasm every now and then.
LEARNING
Eugene Peterson, translator of The Message, describes his delight at noticing that the Hebrew word hagah describes both a lion gnawing its prey (Isaiah 31:4) and someone meditating on Scripture (Psalm 1:2).9 A person who meditates on Scripture is like a dog that gnaws on a bone. As learners, we’ll discover how gnawing—meditating—on Scripture opens the way to a vibrant experience of the Holy Spirit.
LEADING
There is leadership—then there’s inspired leadership. This section is about inspired leadership.
BUILDING
Here we’ll explore the ingredients that go into vibrant communities of faith.
BLOSSOMING
We’ll finish up by discovering how the Holy Spirit helps us to blossom beyond ourselves, beyond the church—and in the world.
Ready, set, go!
I want this book to be something you dive into and complete. So I’ll end on a practical note with five things you need to keep you going all the way to day 40.
PLAN
First, make a plan to meet daily with this book. Write it in your schedule, the way you would a committee meeting, a coffee date, an essay due. If you don’t plan, you probably won’t pause—especially not for forty days.
Find a comfy place. I learned this one from my wife, Priscilla. Most mornings, when I get up and trundle off to the bathroom, I hear Priscilla chanting the psalms. She sits in her favorite chair in her study with a candle lit beside her. This is her spot, her sacred space.
Priscilla looked so cozy in her chair one day that I decided to take my cue from her. I put my own Bible on a table, nestled into my comfy chair—and stared at all the work I had to do. My chair is in my study, and it looks straight at my desk, piled with exams to grade, articles to write, and e-mails to answer. I couldn’t pray there at all. I could barely breathe!
So I went elsewhere for my sacred space. I went to the bedroom and found a chair piled high with clothes. Tossing my clothes into the closet, I turned the chair so that it faces the window instead of the room. I put my favorite books on a nearby shelf. I stocked a small basket with a journal, pens, plenty of tea-light candles, and matches. It’s spectacular—in an understated sort of way, of course. This is my spot—my sacred space. I can pray without exams, articles, and e-mails in the corner of my eye. I’ve even found Priscilla occasionally hiding away in that space. I don’t blame her one bit.
Sometimes we don’t slip away because we have no place to slip away to. If you want to live for forty days with the Holy Spirit, then find a closet, a chair, a stand of trees—anywhere that’s your place.
PEN
I’m not sure you caught this detail: I put pens in my basket. Don’t laugh. You need a pen that feels good in your hand and writes well. It’s aggravating to brew a cup of coffee, settle into a comfy spot, breathe, meditate, and—sigh—your pen doesn’t write when you start to reflect. Or maybe it writes off and on, so you spend more time jiggling the pen than reflecting on the passage for the day. If you don’t have a good pen, buy one.
PATTERN
Each and every day, you’ll build your faith-muscles and develop a more robust life. Here’s my best advice on how to make every day—all forty of them—count.
Begin by paying careful attention to God’s Spirit-breath in you until your breathing is settled.
Read each Scripture passage slowly, maybe two or three times.
Meditate on this passage with the help of what I’ve written. Dig up one nugget of insight every day.
Take pen in hand and reflect on the meaning of Scripture for yourself. I decided not to give you prompts—the sort of one-sentence essay topics my kids got in high school English and history classes. You don’t need me to prompt your writing. Write whatever comes to mind.
After you complete your written reflections, focus again on God’s Spirit-breath in you, as you prepare to settle one last time for prayer. Just breathe for as long as you like—until you are settled.
End with prayer. I’ve written prayers for you, but don’t feel obligated to use them. Pray however you want.
PATIENCE
Finally, be patient with yourself. If you miss a day, come back to this book when you can. And remember, the day that seems least valuable may turn out, in the surprising world of the Spirit, to be the most significant.