The Holy Spirit is our comforter, our teacher. That's why, in

Michele Bachmann, with words steeped in faith, once declared: “The Holy Spirit is our comforter, our teacher. That’s why, in prayer, we can ask the Lord to open up Scripture and make it come alive to us, to open our understanding. He left His Spirit with us until we join Him in Heaven.” In this statement lies an echo of the ancient Church, a truth spoken from the days of Pentecost: that God did not leave His people abandoned, but gave them a guide, a flame, and a friend to walk with them through the ages.

The origin of these words reaches back to Christ’s promise in the Gospel of John: “I will not leave you as orphans; I will send you the Comforter, the Spirit of truth.” From that moment, the early Christians knew that the Holy Spirit was not an abstract force but a living presence. He was the whisper of God within the heart, the fire that gave courage to martyrs, the light that opened the Scriptures to apostles and prophets alike. Bachmann’s words carry forward this ancient proclamation: that the Spirit is not distant, but near — guiding, consoling, teaching.

History provides us radiant testimony of this truth. Consider Augustine of Hippo, whose restless soul could not find peace in philosophy or in the pleasures of the world. It was only when the Scriptures, once obscure to him, became illuminated through prayer and the work of the Holy Spirit that he was transformed. He would later write Confessions, a book that still teaches hearts today. This transformation was not by human wisdom alone, but by the Spirit, who, as Bachmann says, makes Scripture “come alive.”

The role of the comforter is equally profound. In times of trial, when the world is heavy with sorrow, the Spirit does not always remove suffering, but He gives strength to endure it. Recall the stories of the persecuted church, men and women facing lions, prisons, or exile. What gave them peace in their hour of terror? It was the Holy Spirit, the Comforter who whispered of Heaven, who steadied their hands, who reminded them that even death was not defeat. Bachmann’s words stand firmly in this lineage of hope: we are never abandoned, for God Himself walks with us by His Spirit.

Yet the Holy Spirit is not only comforter, but teacher. The ancients knew that knowledge alone could not pierce the mysteries of God. One could read the words of Scripture as mere ink on parchment, but without the Spirit, the meaning remained veiled. With the Spirit, however, the words became light, truth, and living fire. This is what Bachmann calls us to seek in prayer — not the cold knowledge of the letter, but the living wisdom that transforms the heart.

The lesson is clear: do not rely on your strength alone when you read, when you struggle, when you seek. Invite the Holy Spirit, who has been given to you, to teach, to comfort, to open your understanding. Speak to Him in prayer as to a friend. When Scripture feels dry, ask Him to bring it alive. When sorrow weighs upon you, ask Him to be your comfort. When confusion clouds your path, ask Him to guide you into truth.

What must you do, then? First, cultivate prayer as a conversation, not a monologue. Second, treat Scripture not as a book of laws only, but as a living voice — one that breathes through the Spirit. Third, walk each day with the awareness that you are not alone: the Comforter abides with you until the day you see your Lord face to face. This is no mere doctrine but a lifeline, a truth that has carried saints, martyrs, and simple believers through centuries.

Thus, let Bachmann’s words resound in your soul: “The Holy Spirit is our comforter, our teacher … He left His Spirit with us until we join Him in Heaven.” Let them remind you that you are not abandoned, not empty, not alone. Heaven itself walks with you in the form of God’s Spirit, whispering wisdom, pouring strength, and lighting the way until the day when faith becomes sight. This is the legacy of the Church, the promise of Christ, and the treasure of every believer.