My head was exploding*

I think we have to think hard about what it feels like when the Holy Spirit comes to visit. I know—I remember well when I was made a priest—angel choirs (and everyone present) sang “Come Holy Spirit” and boy did it ever. I was lying on the floor nose down, and then I was kneeling at the Bishop’s feet, and then he was pressing down on my head and saying those prayers and while he was doing that the priests in the huddle were pressing down on my shoulders and back and whatever part they could lay a hand upon. It felt like I was going down, I kept thinking “I can’t take it, I won’t make it, I’m going to fall down under all of this weight, and then there was a kind of trancelike moment and the weight was gone and there was cool air around me and the Bishop stood me up and turned me around and said “welcome the newest priest” and everyone applauded” and my head was exploding.

Then everyone sat down and they gave me the “gifts”, which was great because it really calmed things down—the stole, a Bible, keys, and then a red chasuble in many colors of red all like tongues of fire was draped over me and the Bishop turned me around and whispered into my ear “give the peace.” Well, I’d heard it done a zillion times, but it was amazing to do it myself. And from that moment onward I owned the office of priest. I was ready.

Outside, in the real world, my mother who was present was sliding into Alzheimer’s, her older sister, my Aunt Margo, the matriarch of our family, was well into the darkness of Alzheimers’s, Dad seemed fine but his wife Maxine was failing. Brad and I were both in good health but had been told the day before my ordination that we were being evicted from our condo (so they could renovate and charge more; but, violating every law, they gave us 7 days notice to a lock-out); they could do whatever they wanted of course, locking our possessions away until we sued to recover them, or we could just leave.  We rented the only other condo for rent that week in Center City Philadelphia. We knew that as soon as the party ended we had to move.

I suppose it was not unlike the move we just experienced, although this one was under less pressure and was better organized. Still, the point is, never mind the nice music, the Holy Spirit’s arrival is always messy, and always within messiness. What is going on for you? Baby sick? Parents ailing? Partner making unhappy noises? Work stressing you out? That is how it works, you have to look deep inside the messiness to find the Holy Spirit at work in your life.

I know the Spirit is with us. We just moved from Philadelphia to Milwaukee. The drive was fun. Exept for the I-94 part. My car now sounds like a bucket of hardware jostling around on Milwaukee’s streets, which are made of concrete blocks a few meters long, so every 6 meters or so you have a ka-chunk experience. It means we can’t risk driving to church until we get it fixed. Plus, everybody here wants to do things at 8 in the morning. What time do people go to bed, 4:30 in the afternoon? Well, I guess that’s a bit of culture shock.

But, clearly, love is with us, and we’re together and well and barking only occasionally at each other. The Holy Spirit is with us. We bought a new grill, maybe we’ll try to “fire” it up!

*Pentecost (Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104:25-35, 37b; Romans 8:14-17; John 14:8-17, 25-27)

©2013 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.