The Holy Spirit of Christ is a Holy Spirit of Love

We yearn for the Spirit like we yearn for fulfillment. When the Hebrews fled Egypt, they found themselves alone in the wilderness, no longer under Egyptian law. Societies need law to function, so God provided the Israelites with a new legal code governing both social and religious life. This new law code was remarkably egalitarian for the time, if also occasionally severe.

Even though the law is interpreted differently by different Jewish denominations, some of which favor evolving religion and some of which favor tradition, it structures Jewish life to this day. Ideally, habitual observance of the law transforms the practitioner, so that fulfillment of the law becomes spontaneous rather than forced. This ethical spontaneity had long been a dream of the Jewish people, a dream that God shared. According to the Hebrew Scriptures, God doesn’t want automatons obeying an external code; God wants persons animated by God’s own compassion:



The Jews were experiencing the law within, not as a set of rules but as an internal guide. This moral calling always competed with everyday fears, practical expediency, and mundane advantage. But having glimpsed the warmth that faithful social life could offer, and the spiritual abundance that God intended, they ached for its realization.

In response, their prophets promised this realization, but as an act of God rather than an act of the people. Jeremiah, writing in the voice of God, declares:



Jeremiah’s promise is extravagant—an innate knowledge of God so perfect that religious education is unnecessary. This transformation would make everyone a prophet, someone who discerns God’s hope for humankind and cannot help but to act out that hope, leading society into the fullness of social life.

Jewish prophets hoped to be animated by the Spirit of God. Jeremiah’s vision began with Moses, who lamented, “If only all of God’s people were prophets! If only YHWH would bestow the Spirit [ruach] on them all!” (Numbers 11:29b). In Hebrew grammar, ruach is a feminine noun. To Moses and the Israelites, the spirit of God (ruach Elohim) was a grammatically feminine, spiritually animating presence. It motivated the prophets, but only long enough for them to complete their mission, at which point it departed. They yearned for a day when the spirit of God would permanently inhabit and inspire all Jews (or all people, depending on interpretation).

In contrast to later Christian interpretation, the spirit was not a unique person within a tripersonal God. Instead, it was one aspect of a unitary God, like the charisma of a skillful leader or the intelligence of a noted genius. For this reason, most Jewish translations of the biblical ruach leave it in the lowercase (spirit) while most Christian translations put it in the uppercase (Spirit), in anticipation of the Holy Spirit of the Christian Trinity.

The term Holy Spirit (ruach ha’kodesh) itself occurs three times in the Hebrew Bible, once in Psalm 51 and twice in Isaiah 63. Still, from a Hebraic perspective, even this term refers to an aspect of the one God, not to a person within the Trinity. Both traditions agree on the effective power of the spirit, which God would pour out onto all (Isaiah 44:3), replacing their hearts of stone with hearts of flesh, empowering them to walk in the ways of God (Ezekiel 36:26–27).

According to some prophets, such as Joel, this inspiration would not be limited to the Jewish people, but would transform all humankind: “I will pour out my Spirit on all humankind. Your daughters and sons will prophesy, your elders will have prophetic dreams, and your young people will see visions. In those days, I will pour out my Spirit even on those in servitude, women and men alike” (Joel 3:1–2).

Around 30 CE, in occupied Judea, the followers of an itinerant rabbi crucified by the Romans experienced this outpouring.

The disciples received the Holy Spirit from Jesus. Jesus, the itinerant rabbi, was a Jewish prophet inhabited by the Holy Spirit of God, like all Jewish prophets. According to the Christian tradition, Jesus is unique in transferring this Spirit to his disciples, thereby fulfilling the Hebrew prophecies. In Acts, certain detractors had insinuated that the spirited behavior of the rabbi’s followers was caused by spirits—alcoholic spirits. But Peter defended them: “These people are not drunk, as you think, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning!” (Acts 2:15). He then went on to quote the above passage from Joel and argued that this new inspiration was the fulfillment of Joel’s prophecy.

Peter’s argument was continuous with the teachings of Jesus. Jesus had predicted his own death and resurrection, as well as his assumption into heaven afterward. Naturally, his disciples wanted him to stay with them forever, to continue his teaching and healing ministry, to save them from the pain of bereavement. But Jesus denied them the comfort of his ministry, instead calling them to become his ministers: “Peace be with you. As Abba God sent me, so I am sending you,” declares the resurrected Jesus to his disciples (John 20:21), indicating their impending promotion into the role he had once played alone.

We can only imagine the mixed emotions the disciples felt upon receiving this charge. Their charismatic leader, the one they experienced as the Son of God, the preacher who drew crowds and the healer who worked miracles, told them that they would do what he had done and more, for in fact they would do “greater works than these” (John 14:12).

In case they felt a flush of pride, they had to remember his pre-passion question, which he posed to them as they competed for pride of place: “Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?” (Matthew 20:22), to which they had enthusiastically replied in the affirmative. He assured them that they would indeed drink from his cup, then he was flogged and tortured to death on a cross.

Christ had to depart for the disciples to receive the Spirit of Christ. For the transfer of power from Jesus to the disciples to occur, Jesus had to depart. Just as the Spirit had animated Jesus’s body on earth, empowering him to teach, heal, and prophesy, that same Spirit would animate the disciples, making them the body of Christ and empowering them to continue his mission. But the Spirit would not only ratify Jesus’s message; the Spirit would expand upon it, revealing to the disciples what they had not yet been ready to hear, guiding them from truth into all truth (John 16:12–13), teaching them everything (John 14:25–26).

The Holy Spirit arrived fifty days after Passover, on Pentecost:



Previously, Jesus had been the light of the world (John 9:5). Now, the disciples were called upon to be the light of the world, a tall task for a motley crew of peasants, widows, fishermen, marginal women, and tax collectors. These disciples would become the church. Over two millennia, the church has spectacularly succeeded and miserably failed in its mission, making peace and waging wars, feeding the poor and groveling to the rich, expanding scientific knowledge and perpetuating superstition.

What will the church be over the next two millennia? That is the question we are considering in this series of essays. The Spirit of Christ is a Spirit of Love. Recognizing this truth, may the church become a fountainhead of agape in a love-starved world. May we make it so. (adapted from Jon Paul Sydnor, The Great Open Dance: A Progressive Christian Theology, pages 151-154)

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For further reading, please see:

Kärkkäinen, Veli-Matti. Spirit and Salvation. Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2016.

Teilhard de Chardin, Pierre. The Making of a Mind: Letters from a Soldier-Priest, 1914-1919. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1965.