Few things are better than a sunbeam. They’re budget friendly and just about everywhere. You find one and just soak in it. That’s it. Our dogs are especially good at this. I’ll open up the front door around three or four o’clock and let that afternoon amber seep in through the storm door. Beesly, the pharaoh hound mix, immediately lays herself down at the threshold and closes her eyes in delight. Even when she starts to overheat and pant, she won’t move. I have to actually close the door on her to save her from probably dying. Come on, Beesly.
But I can understand. Before you fall asleep in a sunbeam, the world can do you no wrong. It’s intimate and gloriously warm and it’s a little bit of ambrosia pour out specifically for you. But if my sweet, dumb dog could look through the door, past her sunbeam, she might notice that the sunlight is actually everywhere. It falls on the mockingbirds that race through the underbrush in territorial disputes. It rests on the minivans that haul tired children back from school. It traces the magnolia’s blossoming silhouettes down onto the front lawn. Praise God for dappled things, etc.
That’s how Basil the Great thought of the Holy Spirit. I’m never quite sure how to pronounce his name. My wife and I have talked about this. Herb names and British accents muddy the waters so you have to decide what’s right for you. But he was a great church father from the fourth century who lived in what is now modern day Turkey and I like reading him. I have to assume he was no stranger to sunbeams. Writing on the Holy Spirit, Basil said:
He is present as a whole to each and wholly present everywhere. He is portioned out impassibly and participated in as a whole. He is like a sunbeam whose grace is present to the one who enjoys him as if he were present to such a one alone, and still he illuminates land and sea and is mixed with the air. Just so, indeed, the Spirit is present to each one who is fit to receive him, as if he were present to him alone, and still he sends out grace that is complete and sufficient for all. The things that participate in him enjoy him to the extent that their nature allows, not to the extent that his power allows.
Beesly enjoys the sunbeam to the extent that her doggy nature allows. I enjoy the sunbeam to the extend that my human nature allows (which also includes things like contemplation and Basil and an awareness that I’m overheating), but I can’t enjoy it all. There’s always more sunlight. And that’s fine because I can enjoy my sunbeam as if it’s just for me. I don’t own the sun, but the sun has been gracious enough to abide with me. I’ll take that deal.
All things exist in the presence of the Holy Spirit. That’s the definition of omnipresence. But the Spirit can be enjoyed as if he were present to you alone. The only thing stopping us from soaking in the sunbeam of the bright Holy Spirit is the will to lay down and rest in him. Go find that sunbeam.