Espirito Santo

I grew up Catholic. I attended church. I followed the orders of the church. I viewed the priest as a steward of the Gospels and leader of God’s flock. I confessed my sins, said my prayers, and asked God to use me as a vessel for his will. Did I feel more spiritual? No. Why?

In the context of the purpose of my religion, I was upholding the traditions of my community. My grandparents attended church as did my parents. Religion though is more than tradition. At my grandmother’s funeral mass, she was lauded for her long suffering to God (in spite of ailments). I had an awakening at this mass. This woman adhered to doctrine, loved in spite of race, class, education, and creed. She had her faults, but at 85 assisted by walker with oxygen tank in tow, she sat front row every Sunday showing up for God.

This taught me that spiritual is not a place, color, doctrine, or socioeconomic condition. She taught me that it is what is inside that makes a person. It was then, at that mass I understood the purpose of religion. In my previous experience I had followed the formula. Kneel, pray, stand. Kneel, pray, stand. Never feeling, spiritual.

In the final farewell, the priest summoned us pallbearers to escort my grandmother down the main church aisle. This time there was no walker or oxygen tank in tow. I walked teary eyed as small weeps crept out as we passed each aisle. Something great had left the earth that day and everyone knew it. I cannot explain the heavy feelings floating around pulling down on each of us like the Earth pulling down on the moon.  Yet, when outside the church a great flood of joy overcame me. I heard my grandmothers voice telling me "hito, you have to believe".

At that point I felt a great resounding peace, like I was standing in the woods alone. All ideas of race, class, and money, melted from me like a piece of ice in the sun. I felt free, I felt spiritual.