The Descent of the Holy Spirit

A meditation

Come into the room — it is a church now, with columns and windows, because the painter knew what this room became. They are all here, the ones who ran and the ones who stayed, gathered close, and in the middle of them, sitting, is his mother, with her hands together and her face lifted.

Look up, where she is looking. The ceiling has opened. A glow of fire and cloud has come through it, and in the fire, wings spread, the dove. It is coming down.

Now look at their heads. Every one of them has a small flame standing on it — Peter kneeling at the right, John in red at the front, the ones at the back with their hands up. The fire has reached them. Look at their faces: not one is the same. One is amazed, one is afraid, one has his hand out as if to catch something, one has simply closed his eyes.

And her — she is the only one who is not surprised. She has had the Spirit before, in a small room in Nazareth, when the angel came. She is not receiving something new. She is watching her son's friends receive what she has carried all along.

There is a book open on the floor at her feet, forgotten. They will not need it for what comes next. They will walk out of this room and speak in every language on earth, and men who were afraid ten days ago will not be afraid again.

Kneel with them. The fire is for you too. Ask for it — not to feel it, but to be sent.