A Theological Reading of God With Us and Its Practical Understanding of the Work of the Holy Spirit
«Christ has no body now on earth but yours.»
Teresa of Ávila
Third essay out of five analysing Sarah Mullally’s novena
There are Christian documents that require very careful reading. Not because they explicitly abandon traditional Christian language, but because they organise the experience of faith around a different axis. The novena God With Us, written by Sarah Mullally for Thy Kingdom Come, belongs precisely to this second category.
At first glance, the document appears entirely recognisable within historic Christianity. It constantly speaks about the Holy Spirit, prayer, grace, service, humility and evangelism. It is full of biblical references and possesses a warm, approachable and spiritually sensitive pastoral tone. Yet a closer reading begins to reveal something important: the practical and emotional centre of the novena does not appear to be primarily the apostolic proclamation of the Gospel, but rather a spirituality of presence, accompaniment, listening and the human mediation of the love of God.
This appears from the very introduction. Mullally states that prayer does not consist merely in asking God to change the world, but also in asking him to change us. Shortly afterwards she adds that God desires to transform us into people who bring about the changes we want to see in the world.
The emphasis is significant. The centre of the discourse does not rest upon the objective work of Christ within the history of salvation, but upon the transformation of the believer into an instrument of change, accompaniment and presence for others. That logic becomes even clearer when the author describes the purpose of the novena as the desire to become «that meeting point between our “Five” and the love of God». The dominant image is no longer the public proclamation of the Gospel, but the relational mediation of divine nearness through ourselves.
That is why the quotation attributed to Teresa of Ávila occupies such a central place within the introduction. «Christ has no body now on earth but yours», the text declares. That phrase functions almost as the interpretative key to the entire novena. The document’s principal concern does not appear to be so much announcing what Christ has done for sinners, but rather forming believers capable of visibly embodying the love, grace and presence of God for other human beings.
That same pattern repeats itself throughout the entire work. The Holy Spirit constantly appears associated with listening, accompaniment, human closeness, consolation and inner transformation. The spirituality emerging from the novena is profoundly relational and affective. God acts through human presence, especially within contexts of suffering, fragility or loneliness.
This can be seen clearly in the reflection on Genesis 1 and the Spirit moving over the waters. There Mullally recalls her experience as a palliative care nurse and states that people often did not ask for solutions, but simply for someone to be present with them. The spiritual conclusion of the passage does not revolve around the proclamation of the Gospel nor reconciliation with God, but around the importance of accompanying human beings through darkness and pain. «God works through us», the author writes.
Something similar occurs in the section devoted to Ruth and Naomi. There grace is described fundamentally as relational and unconditional commitment. Mullally presents Ruth’s faithfulness as a reflection of the love of God and concludes by defining grace as «undeserved and unconditional favour». The emphasis falls upon remaining beside the other person, commitment to their wellbeing and the ability to sustain those who suffer relationally. Once again, the practical centre of spirituality appears configured around loving presence rather than classical categories such as guilt, atonement or justification.
The understanding of spiritual life as an experience of inward listening appears especially clearly in the reflection on Samuel. There the author describes prayer through the metaphor of a «radio frequency» which each believer must learn to tune into in order to hear the voice of God. Later she states that spiritual life consists in developing rhythms and spaces that allow God to speak and the soul to listen. The centre of Christian experience therefore begins to shift towards inward perception, subjective discernment and personal spiritual sensitivity.
The same dynamic appears in the reflection on Elijah and the «gentle whisper». There Mullally suggests that certain persistent questions which continually return to our consciousness could in fact be the voice of the Holy Spirit guiding us. Spiritual life once again appears organised around inward listening and the recognition of subjective movements of consciousness.
Even when the novena addresses evangelism directly, the practical centre of the discourse remains profoundly relational. In the reflection on Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch, the author states that «we cannot speak about God if we are not in the conversation». Shortly afterwards she adds that the Holy Spirit does not give complex instructions, but simply prompts people to begin conversations. The emphasis no longer falls primarily upon the doctrinal content of the Gospel proclaimed by Philip, but upon the willingness to approach, converse and accompany.
All this allows us to identify with relative clarity the true centre of spiritual gravity within the novena. The document does not appear structured primarily around human sin, repentance, divine judgement, atonement or reconciliation with God through the cross of Christ. Instead, it organises spiritual life around presence, listening, accompaniment, human closeness, service and the inward transformation produced by the Holy Spirit.
This becomes even more evident when one observes the absences within the text. Although the novena revolves around Pentecost, the work of the Holy Spirit and evangelism, repentance virtually disappears from its spiritual vocabulary. Sin is scarcely ever mentioned explicitly and appears only indirectly or tangentially. Nor do we find a developed reflection upon guilt before God, divine judgement or conversion understood as turning away from sin and entering into new obedience to Christ.
Something similar occurs with the cross. When it appears, it does so primarily as the supreme example of humility and service. Mullally states that «humility lies at the very heart of his sovereignty». Yet the cross never explicitly occupies the central place of atonement for sin and reconciliation between humanity and God.
All this makes the novena deeply troubling. Not because it abandons traditional Christian language, but precisely because it preserves it. The document speaks about the Holy Spirit, grace, prayer, mission and Christ. It uses biblical imagery, pastoral sensitivity and recognisable spiritual vocabulary. Yet when one carefully observes what actually occupies the practical centre of the proposed spirituality, another reality begins to emerge: the apostolic Gospel progressively ceases to structure the heart of the message.
Sin almost disappears. Repentance occupies no visible place. Guilt before God no longer constitutes humanity’s central crisis. The cross ceases to appear primarily as atonement and reconciliation. Judgement is virtually absent. Instead, spirituality becomes reorganised around presence, listening, accompaniment, emotional support and the human mediation of divine love.
The result is a Christianity that preserves much of its external form while silently displacing its theological centre. And precisely there lies the document’s real danger. For the problem is not simply what it says, but what it progressively ceases to proclaim.
The Christian Church was not born merely to accompany the world spiritually nor to offer experiences of emotional acceptance. It was born publicly proclaiming that Jesus Christ died for sinners, rose from the dead and calls all people to repentance and faith. When that centre ceases to occupy the principal place, Christianity may continue using the same religious language and yet slowly begin proclaiming another gospel.
And that possibility ought to trouble the Church deeply.
