And with Your Spirit: How Liturgical Language Speaks to Current Disorder
Keith D. Ray II
Keith Ray is ministry leader of North Anderson Community Church, Presbyterian (PCUSA), in Anderson, South Carolina.
Common Language
If you have been in mainline Protestant or Catholic communities over the last forty years, you have likely heard and even spoken these words in corporate worship in this or similar form:
The Lord (God) be with you.
And also with you.
This applies whether you are Roman Catholic, Anglican in a variety of forms, Lutheran, Presbyterian, or Methodist. And there is good reason why so many gathered communities speak these words in worship.
During Vatican II, the Roman Catholic community experienced church-wide renewal, including in its rites and worship practices. Protestants, recognizing that Catholics were drawing upon biblical and historical sources in revising their liturgies, began a similar journey, asking questions about the earliest forms of Christian worship and how we, as worshiping communities today, might draw upon the liturgical treasures of our past.
One such document was “The Apostolic Tradition” of Hippolytus, a third-century text that gives insight into the early worship practices of the Christian church. And it is from this text that the words that open many of our prayers and ritual acts have come. In contemporary Christianity, these words have become almost second nature. See what happens if you shout out the words “The Lord (or God) be with you!” A resounding response is likely: “And also with you!”
But then the English-speaking Roman Catholics made a change. It is a modest change, to be sure, but nevertheless, a change. The revised words are
The Lord (God) be with you.
And with your Spirit.
Such a small change, I know. As someone who has spent a significant amount of time interested in things liturgical, I wondered, “Why the shift?” Especially given the widespread acceptance of common liturgical texts across denominations, I wondered, “Why mess up a good thing? What difference does this small adjustment make in the community’s liturgical expression?”
One simple reason why English-speaking Catholics changed these introductory words is simply a matter of improved translation of early liturgical sources. While “The Apostolic Tradition” was originally composed in Greek, it is the Latin text that influenced English translations. And in the Latin, the introductory words read:
Dominus vobiscum (translated “The Lord be with you”).
Et cum spiritu tuo (previously translated “And also with you”).
By simply looking at the Latin text, one can see that “spirit” is a more accurate rendering of the original text. In fact, other translations, including Spanish, French, and Italian texts, kept the spirit language:
Spanish: “Y con tu espíritu.”
French: “Et avec votre esprit.”
Italian: “E con il tuo spirito.”
So, on the surface, the Catholic bishop’s change makes perfect sense:
The Lord (God) be with you.
And with your spirit.
Like most things liturgical, however, the change has theological implications, some of which speak to our current moment in time, or dare I say crisis in time, as gathered communities of faith, both Catholic and Protestant.
Priestly Particularities
Before exploring the common theological themes present in this revision, it is important to recognize the particular Roman Catholic sensibilities in the new translations. Some Roman Catholic thinkers see the revision of these liturgical words as a kind of acknowledgement and blessing of the unique role of the ordained minister, the priest, in the gathered community. According to the church’s catechism,
What does the people’s response “And with your spirit” mean?
It is an acknowledgment of the gift of the Spirit the priest received at ordination and a prayer that he will be faithful to that gift in leading the people in worship. (United States Conference of Catholic Bishops)
As the Congregation for Divine Worship explained in the document Liturgiam Authenticam (2001), the translation “And with your spirit” more accurately reflects the Latin original, “Et cum spiritu tuo,” and captures “the spiritual charism of the ordained minister” rather than rendering it as a general greeting (which is how “And also with you” had been interpreted). In a particularly Catholic interpretation, the role of the priest as a representative of Christ in a particular way is acknowledged by the simple words “And with your spirit,” that is, the spirit that was bestowed upon the priest at ordination.
The Priesthood of All
If the emphasis of the revision is solely based on elevating the priestly role of the ordained, we in sister communities may wish to leave well enough alone. But what if we reconsider the theological emphasis of the Catholic tradition in light of our commitment to developing communities rooted in the priesthood of all believers? As the PC(USA) Book of Order states,
The basic form of ministry is the ministry of the whole people of God, from whose midst some are called to ordered ministries, to fulfill particular functions. Members and those in ordered ministries serve together under the mandate of Christ. (Book of Order, G-2.0101)
Thus, the theological emphasis of a spirit-infused ministry is not restricted to a particular governing role in the community (i.e., ordained versus non-ordained). When we speak words of spirit-power in our community (God be with you. And with your spirit.), we are recalling the power of the Divine Spirit present in all members of the community, especially as they seek to embody the will and ways of God in daily life.
The new language turns what is more akin to an ordinary blessing (God be with you. And with you.) and emphasizes the role of the Spirit of God to empower us in our daily lives, especially as those living in contexts of widespread injustice. Perhaps it is best to turn to poetry to understand the significance of a small liturgical change to infuse even the introductory words of prayer or worship to include the Divine Spirit:
There’s a spirit in the air,
telling Christians everywhere:
“Praise the love that Christ revealed,
living, working in our world!”1
(Brian Wren)
As we gather in corporate worship, we do so in the knowledge that all are spirit-infused to live lives that embody the work of God in the world. And this awareness in liturgical practice, beyond offering a simple greeting like “Good morning,” begins with a theological foundation that there is, indeed, a spirit in the very air of our gathering, calling us to love and work.
So the poet Brian Wren continues:
When believers break the bread,
when a hungry child is fed,
praise the love that Christ revealed,
living, working in our world.
The consequence of using spirit language in our liturgy is that we are reminded of a power beyond that of the individuals in the community. There is a pulsating spirit at work in the world, and our ritual acts (e.g., breaking bread) empower us to translate our worship into actions of justice in the most challenging places of our world.
The Spirit Calls Even Today
As I write this, I have just finished listening to the New York Times podcast The Daily regarding hunger and possible mass starvation in Gaza. The introduction to the podcast reads, “The suffering in Gaza has reached new depths, and now finding food, which was already scarce, has become a deadly endeavor.”2 Such news can leave us paralyzed. After all, what power do I have to make a real impact in this situation? Not to mention other atrocities that are taking place in our world each day: mass deportations, gun violence, economic despair.
Perhaps in a climate of despair, the slight shift proposed by the renewed translation of a small liturgical text can encourage and reinforce the notion that as we gather together to proclaim the teachings of Jesus, we are, in fact, empowered by a holy spirit to join our efforts with others around the community, country, and globe, to live out a new reality of life:
Still the Spirit gives us light,
seeing wrong and setting right:
God in Christ has come to stay.
Live tomorrow’s life today!
The Spirit Empowers
After twenty-eight years of full-time representative ministry, I retired early to pursue a new vocational journey as a teacher in the local public schools system. I chose to work in a high poverty school with students who faced multiple challenges. After years of preaching sermons rooted in liberation theology, I found it painful and beautiful to live day-to-day with students and families on the margins.
Some days were extremely painful. Sometimes the pain came from my own lack of knowledge and experience. I walked into my supervisor’s office in tears when my lesson was a disaster, and like a good mentor, she would listen and then push me to expand and grow in my understanding and practice.
Other times, however, I came face-to-face with the injustices so prevalent in our news today. One day as my English students were working independently on a project, one of my sixth-grade students asked to talk to me privately in the hallway. My first thought was there must be conflict between her and another student as they worked collaboratively. We stepped out of the class, and her eyes filled with tears. She said, “My counselor said it would be okay to tell you this.” I nodded. “My dad was just deported,” she said as the tears flowed. I embraced her and we cried together in the hallway of our school. There was nothing to do but be present. I could not help but think how in my days of theological education, the in-vogue term “non-anxious presence” was used to describe the pastoral role in times of crisis, but I was anything but non-anxious. When the school day was over, I cried again, and part of those tears came from a place of utter helplessness. I could not fix this situation.
I wonder if a few small liturgical words might have made a difference in reminding me (and you) that in days of overwhelming injustice, we are empowered: by our gathered communities and by our belief in a Divine Presence that weeps with us, but also empowers us, to change the world.
A few months ago, the same student, now a high school senior, came to visit me. And this time we were able to laugh together. Life is better for her now. And she is planning a future. But we also know that because of her cultural background, there are always threats. Still, she pushes on. She reminds me that our small acts of resistance are used by the Spirit to bring change to the world.
May the Spirit fill our praise,
guide our thoughts and change our ways.
God in Christ has come to stay.
Live tomorrow’s life today!
We are called and empowered to make the world more just. And it is difficult work. But remember, you are Spirit-led and Spirit-filled to; in the words of the poet, “live tomorrow’s life today.”
God be with you, beloved.
And with your spirit.
Notes
1. Words: Brian Wren © 1979, 1995 Hope Publishing Company , www.hopepublishing.com. All rights reserved. Used by permission.
2. “How Seeking Food in Gaza Has Become So Deadly,” New York Times podcast The Daily, hosted by Michael Barbaro, Rachel Abrams, and Natalie Kitroeff, July 24, 2025.
