Issue 26: The Holy Spirit Preview

Spring 2025

E D I TO R

B OA R D O F D I R E C TO R S

CJ Green

B OA R D P R E S I D E N T

M A N AG I N G E D I TO R

Jonathan Adams

Meaghan Mitts

E X E C U T I VE D I R E C TO R

David Zahl

PUBLISHER

David Zahl

TRE ASURER

James Munroe

A S S I S TA N T E D I TO R S

Cali Yee Ben Self

S E C R ETA RY

Emily Large

C O P Y E D I TO R S

Ken Wilson Micah Gilmer

Scott Johnson Ginger Mayfield Reid Murchison Michael Sansbury

P O ET RY E D I TO R

Andy Eaton A RT D I R E C TO R

Tom Martin A D M I N I S T R AT I VE D I R E C TO R

Deanna Roche E D I TO R E M E R I T U S

Ethan Richardson

A four-issue subscription is $60. To subscribe to The Mockingbird, sign up at www.mbird.com/store or send a check to our address here. All monthly supporters of Mockingbird receive a complimentary subscription.

The Mockingbird is a nonprofit magazine that seeks to connect the message of God’s grace with the concerns of everyday life. Our staff believes that grace, by its nature, is dynamic, unmerited, and expansive; we hope the range of voices in this issue reflects that nature.

In surprising and down-to-earth ways, we aim to demonstrate how the Christian understanding of reality—what people are like, what God is like, and how the two intersect—bears out all around us. For more, visit our website, www.mbird.com.

OFFICE

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Cover: Simon Norfolk. The Lewis Glacier, Mt. Kenya, 2004 (A), 2014. Digital chromogenic prints 40 × 30 in | 101.6 × 76.2 cm. Edition of 7 + 2AP

Cig Harvey, Yellow Table Cloth (Dawn), Eagle Island, Maine, 2021.

Photograph on aluminum, 30 × 40 in. Edition of 7.

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Contents

Essays 11 Getting to the Real Stuff ELIZABETH OLDFIELD

Interviews

14 Not By Might But By the Spirit

25 SIMEON ZAHL

JAMES K . A. SMITH

44

What Is Real?

KYLEE PASTORE ASIRVATHAM

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CLAIRE HOFFMAN

109

R UTH NAOMI FLOYD

69 Air Supply STEPHANIE PHILLIPS

74

A Conversation

Turn and Live

83

LINDEN SMITH

WITH CALEB MASKELL & ANDY SQUYRES

98 The Dove and the Cross LEOP OLDO A. SÁNCHEZ M.

114 Think Again

Lists & Columns

KAREN KILBY

36 Dear Gracie…

SARAH CONDON

Poetry

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20 Wind Off the Coast of Maine

DAVID ZAHL

Landscape as Prayer

67

LYNDA KONG

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Full Force Gale: An Annotated Playlist Isolated Memories Bubbling Up

from the Memory Bank of a 90s Kid Who Went to a Charismatic Youth Group

Conversing

Examen CHRIS DAVIDSON

MEAGHAN MITTS

93 Winter Sun

96 The Confessional

Louis Prima ANDY SQUYRES

107 Luce da Luce

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On Our Bookshelf

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Four Occasions for Praying

to the Holy Spirit

JOEL KURZ

MARY ZAHL

From the Soapbox

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CARL McCOLMAN

Giving Up Your Quiet Little Pact with Despair JOHN ZAHL

Phyllis Stephens, High and Lifted Up, 2020. Cotton fabric, 57 × 33 in. Private collection. Courtesy of the artist and Richard Beavers Gallery, New York.

Mystics Are Weird (And That’s a Good Thing)

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O P ENE R

What You Seek Is Seeking You

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oday, somewhere between a fifth and a quarter of Americans describe themselves as “spiritual but not religious.” That term, overly familiar now, may be most associated with census reports and anxious clergy people. But according to historian Matthew Hedstrom, “spiritual but not religious” became popular in the late 90s in tandem with online dating. Platforms like Match, using dropdown menus and check-boxes, prompted millions of singles to specify their religious beliefs. Between the easily caricatured poles of “religious” and “not” there seemed to be something appealing, possibly even sexy, about promoting oneself as “spiritual.” It meant you wouldn’t be ironing church clothes come Sunday morning, but weren’t closed off to the mysteries of the universe. You were curious, intriguing, maybe a little unpredictable.

You were open to an inexplicable, transcendent encounter. Who could resist?

Incidentally, as “SBNR” rose in popularity, so did another religious category: Pentecostal and charismatic faiths, especially in the Global South. Seemingly worlds apart, these two affiliations actually share substantial overlap: a desire for something new, a hunger for surprise, an acknowledgement that deep, inexplicable, transcendent encounters are both possible and attractive.

Of course, “spirituality” and “the Holy Spirit” are not the same thing. Yet both operate in the nebulous terrain of experience; each requires you to track something invisible by its effects. For this reason, things “of the spirit” can seem suspiciously imprecise—flighty. After all, the Holy Spirit is likened to a dove in the Gospels, and Christ himself compares it to a wind which “blows where it wishes.” But if you follow along, you’ll notice a pattern.

The Spirit often moves in the same direction: downward. It descends upon Mary at the conception of Jesus. It descends toward Jesus at his baptism in the Jordan. It descends as fire upon the apostles at Pentecost.

That pattern plays out in this issue, too. Essay after essay speaks to the power of the Spirit to interrupt our lives at specific points, descending, so to speak, from celestial abstraction to lived reality. We may desire (for the sake of love, connection, or appearances) to claim ourselves as “spiritual,” but in the end, it is the Spirit who claims us. Or as Rumi put it, “What you seek is seeking you.”

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Still: what is this Spirit, and how can we know it for sure? In devising this issue, we felt an immense responsibility to answer correctly. “Discernment” was a theme writers gravitated toward immediately. At the same time, the subject’s slipperiness has been part of the pleasure—it has proven dynamic and exciting. It has been a relief to remember that the Spirit is the source of creativity (Gen. 1:2–3; Ps. 104:30); and that wherever the Spirit is, there is also freedom (2 Cor. 3:17). Freedom to try, to fail, to play. In other words, we had fun putting this thing together, and hope you have fun reading it.

Dappled with new comics by artist John Hendrix, our pages also feature original illustrations by Melisa Gerecci. Personal essays convey the boldness of the theme: Elizabeth Oldfield speaks in tongues; Kylee Pastore Asirvatham perceives the Spirit amidst mental unhealth; and Stephanie Phillips contemplates the beautiful persistence of breath. Contributing scholars apply their intellects to the wilder sides of life: Linden Smith addresses the inexplicable nature of conversion; Karen Kilby humbles herself before the Trinity; the philosopher James K. A. Smith looks back on the Pentecostalism of his youth; and Leopoldo A. Sánchez M. proclaims a word of relief to those tiring of religious performance. Additionally, we have interviews with theologian Simeon Zahl, reporter Claire Hoffman, and jazz historian Ruth Naomi Floyd; and musician Andy Squyres in conversation with historian of religion Caleb Maskell about creativity, suffering, and healing. We fan the flames with advice from Sarah Condon and an inspired playlist by David Zahl, plus recommended reading, humor, poetry, and, well, you’ll see.

Read on, as the Spirit moves you.

— The Editors

Spot Illustrations by Melisa Gerecci.

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By Elizabeth Oldfield

Getting to the Real Stuff Notes from the Second Naïveté

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few years ago, I was in a grand old building on the Strand, itself one of London’s grandest old streets. About fifty people had entered through the Palladian arches (built in 1774), passed under the banner advertising “21st Century Enlightenment,” and gathered in a vaulted hall. We had been invited to contribute to one of the many research projects undertaken by the Royal Society of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce. The finest minds from across academia, healthcare, and policy were assembled to discuss something usually outside the organization’s secular, intellectual remit: spirituality. The unsaid subtext was, “How do we rescue this seemingly unavoidable concept, which research is increasingly showing the utility of, from woo and the credulous religious and make it respectable again?”

They had invited the wrong person. Although at the time I led a serious and credible think tank, I have found gatherings like this always bring out my mischievous side. I care less and less about being respectable. This whole project seemed to be missing the point. The suits, the detached analytical language, the PowerPoint presentations. Not my bag at the best of times, but particularly when applied to a subject as deep, tender, and rawly human as this.

I listened as well as I could to the eminent psychotherapists and sociologists, peered dutifully at the charts and graphs, while mainly wondering how we could crack this room open and get to the real stuff.

All of which meant, when I got up to give my presentation, I junked my script (it had no graphs anyway, but I had at least tried to play the game with some research citations). Instead, I started with, “I pray in tongues.”

I explained that praying in tongues is like one part of myself speaking Holly Andres, The Glowing Drawer, 2008. From the series “Sparrow Lane.” Chromogenic dye coupler print, 25 x 20 in.

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By James K. A. Smith

Not By Might But By the Spirit Discerning What Power Is For

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t was the 90s, as the kids say.

The Pentecostal church where we worshipped in Stratford, Ontario, was swept up in the revival rippling from Airport Vineyard in nearby Toronto. News of strange and miraculous manifestations spread around the world. But the reports that struck me were testimonies about emotional healing—gut-level emotional restoration that overcame years of pain and trauma. I can still picture my friend, Michael, weeping as he bore witness to the work the Spirit had done in his heart and soul. Whatever one wanted to make of the laughing and barking(!) and trance-like states people experienced, this lasting work of someone finding wholeness seemed like exactly what God’s Spirit would be doing in the world: making all things new. Restoring the years the locusts had eaten.

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Photograph: Room of Shadows by Antone Dolezal.

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Cynde Jasmin Colby, Come Holy Spirit, 2021. Acrylic, decorative paper, glitter, and photo collage on canvas, 70 9/10 × 70 9/10 in.

I n t e r v i e w Wi t h

Simeon Zahl

Feathers and All On Embodied Experiences of the Spirit

S

imeon Zahl is a historical and constructive theologian whose scholarship has been, over many years, foundational to Mockingbird’s perspective on the Holy Spirit. When we first imagined this issue, we knew right away that we’d need to get Simeon on the line. As you’ll see, he didn’t disappoint.

Zahl is a graduate of Harvard and Cambridge. Following his doctorate in theology, he completed a research fellowship at St. John’s College, Oxford, and was Assistant Professor of Systematic Theology at the University of Nottingham. In 2018, he and his family returned to Cambridge, where he is now Professor of Christian Theology in the Faculty of Divinity.

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I n t e r v i e w Wi t h

Claire Hoffman

Sister, Sinner, Saint On Distortions of the Self and the Passionate Evangelism of Aimee Semple McPherson

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hen Aimee Semple McPherson vanished from Venice Beach, she was 35 years old. It was 1926.

By then she had already been married twice, established a widely circulated religious magazine, published two books, fearlessly crossed North America during a global pandemic, become the first woman to hold a radio license, risen as the first female mega-preacher ever, and overseen the construction of the largest church in American history up till that point—achieving almost all of this before women had the right to vote. One of the biggest early figures in Pentecostalism, Aimee began her ministry as an itinerant healer. Across the United States, huge crowds flocked to her.

In Dayton, Ohio, security guards had to lock the windows of a church hall she was visiting; in Jim Crow Florida, she held integrated worship services. She was winsome, theatrical, bold, and seemingly unstoppable. When she settled in Los Angeles, her church, Angelus Temple, could seat six thousand.

After she disappeared, twenty thousand people assembled to mourn her death. And then, as if resurrected, she came back.

Scandal ensued. Aimee was taken to trial for fabricating a kidnapping. She found herself caught up in a storm of press, court appearances, and shifting media narratives about her private sexual life, all while she continued to preach the gospel Sunday after Sunday.

In the century since, Aimee has become the subject of lore, documentaries, and films; she was the inspiration for otherworldly characters in HBO’s Perry Mason and Showtime’s Penny Dreadful. Larger than life, Aimee has become hard to see 60

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Photograph by Lacey Terrell, offSET no.75, Los Angeles.

clearly, and even harder to understand. Was she a boundary-breaking feminist icon? Or a hypocritical con-woman?

The writer Claire Hoffman knows a little something about religious celebrity figures.

Raised in Iowa, she was a student at the Maharishi School, where she, alongside her family, learned the famed guru’s promises of enlightenment. In her first book, Greetings from Utopia Park: Surviving a Transcendent Childhood (2016), Hoffman details a complicated but ultimately loving relationship to the faith of her childhood. A former staff writer for the Los Angeles Times and Rolling Stone, Hoffman has profiled celebrities including Amy Winehouse, Justin Bieber, and Michael Jackson.

In her newest book Sister, Sinner (available April 2025), Hoffman regards the life of Aimee Semple McPherson with care and specificity. Taking readers from Canadian tent revivals to Los Angeles courtrooms, Sister, Sinner is a page-turner of a biography. As Hoffman explains, Aimee’s story is a prototype for the age of celebrity. It is the story of what happens when power, charisma, and religion are all mixed together. Most amazingly, it may even be the story of grace, quietly persisting amidst it all.

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Louis Prima Last night I was sitting on the red velvet couch in our living room John Steinbeck in my hand and Louis Prima playing on the record player My daughter in the kitchen boiling pasta, simmering a vodka sauce The smell of it is surely the meaning of life and I thought to myself, “Well this is pretty good for a Wednesday night” The final scene of The Grapes of Wrath might be one of the greatest moments in all of literature I think about it all the time Like mother’s milk into the belly of a broken reed Summer is gasping its final breath Our gardens are hurtling inevitably to their doom Only a few uncertain tomatoes hanging like so much unmet potential Like backyard billboards screaming memento mori I’ve never farmed a day in my life but I have worked a lot of retail “Retail Scars” will be a chapter in my memoir Today I stood in the Chattahoochee and I felt the love of Alan Jackson overwhelming me

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By Andy Squyres

My parents parted ways with each other when I was very young So my dad became a single parent and took care of us He worked full time and went to school full time at San Jose State But he always made sure to cook dinner To give us baths and every night before he tucked us in bed He would read to us I’ve been thinking about this lately because someone asked me recently Where my love for words and poetry came from And I’m pretty sure it was from the nightly ritual of my dad reading to us Busy Town, Frog and Toad, Where The Sidewalk Ends These were the words that taught me to understand irony Before I knew the definition of irony Last week five skateboarders ended up at my house for the evening Amy fried seventy corn tortillas and made tacos for them Those young men were very polite and grateful but It’s been a while since we’ve witnessed such ravenousness We were so glad they came over They kept pulling out their phones showing us videos of their tricks And we felt like old people basking pleasurably in an audacious glow

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HUMOR

The Confessional

Dear God, I just want to let you know that I know what you’re up to.

Yesterday, the song “Wonderwall” (which, as you know, is in my Top 20 Favorite Songs) came on the radio at the exact same time that I drove by Fuzzy’s Tacos (which is easily in my Top 3 Favorite Taco Places). It was like the dots were connecting, the stars were aligning, and a sunbeam was shining down right on my head all at once. I was like, “OK! I GET IT! I WILL QUIT MY JOB! You don’t have to yell, haha!”

So I’m going to quit my job tomorrow, and I think it’s definitely the right move since I haven’t even liked my job since I started five weeks ago. I really feel like the change will be good for me. Thank you so much for pointing me in the right direction. I needed that.

As if that wasn’t enough, I met a girl on Tinder this afternoon who is wearing a vintage Milwaukee Brewers jersey in her profile picture (as you know, I love baseball and have said for a long time that a lot of women do not fully appreciate the slow-paced, time-intensive, low-impact nature of that game). Once again, you came through loud and clear. She’s a Lutheran and her favorite band is Oasis? If that wasn’t a Holy Spirit moment then I don’t know what is. I’ve been dreaming of raising little Britpop/Brewer fans ever since I swiped right. I even bought a size 6–9 months Christian Yelich jersey

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(get it? Christian Yelich?). Sometimes, I feel like you’re bursting through the heavenly veil and hitting me over the head with a holy two-by-four! It’s like, “Turn the volume down a little, OK?” There’s just one little thing I find confusing. My migraines have been coming back pretty frequently. Like, every few days I’ll need to sit in a dark room for forty-five minutes and focus on my breathing or I’ll get sick. And do you know Garrett in H.R.? He gets migraines, too. He actually came and sat with me during one of my episodes until I started feeling better. I thought that was pretty nice because Garrett isn’t even in my Top 10 Favorite People At Work. What I don’t understand is why I need to get migraines in the first place. I don’t want to doubt, Lord, but the pain can get so bad that sometimes I wonder what you’re doing. Or if you’re even there at all. I mean, I’m definitely not looking to hang out with Garrett again anytime soon (let’s just say his taste in 90s Soft Rock is missing a certain “cool factor”).

I feel like so many amazing things are right around the corner for me, God: a new job, a new wife, Oasis is going on a reunion tour… Please just make the migraines stop, and I’ll have no doubt that your mighty power is at work in my life.

Come, Holy Spirit, come!

Lord, have mercy.

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Q&A With

Ruth Naomi Floyd

A Risky, Costly Hope The Living Spirit of Jazz and the Importance of Telling the Truth

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o watch Ruth Naomi Floyd perform is to see an artist bear her soul onstage. When you listen to one of Floyd’s sacred jazz compositions, prepare to be immersed in the sounds of love, longing, reckoning, and redemption—all expressed with resonant boldness. It is like witnessing the Spirit itself interceding with groanings too deep for words. As the Times of London wrote, “Floyd’s voice highlights not only her superb dynamic control, flexibility and faultless diction, but also her most important asset: an unmistakable emotional integrity that conveys her music’s power.”

As a jazz vocalist and composer, Floyd has recorded six albums, seamlessly blending themes of theology, history, and justice. Her latest project is the Frederick Douglass Jazz Works, a collection of speeches and writings by the great abolitionist and statesman set to her own compositions. Illuminating the tragedy and injustice of American slavery, the FDJW also reflects hope and triumph, grounded in faith. Douglass himself described the significance of African American Spirituals with these words:

Romare Bearden, Out Chorus, 1979-1980. Photo Etching on Arches, 22 × 30 in. Anacostia Community Museum, Smithsonian Institution, gift of Ronald E. Patterson and Thomas R. Corbin.

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Corita Kent, word picture: gift of tongues, 1955.

Serigraph, 18 x 24 in. Courtesy of Corita Art Center.

F R O M T H E SOA P B O X A Sermon by John Zahl

Giving Up Your Quiet Little Pact with Despair When you send forth your spirit… you renew the face of the ground.

—Psalm 104:30

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very year on Pentecost, the church remembers and celebrates the coming of the Holy Spirit, who is the third person of the Trinity and the active spiritual presence of God in our midst.

The topic brings to mind a little story of something that happened to me in seminary. One day, when I was running late for a lecture, I slipped into the classroom through a side door and took a spot on the other side of the room from where I usually sat. As the professor called my name during roll call, he said, “John Zahl?” and looked up toward the side of the room where I was normally to be found. I answered from my new spot on the other side 129