The Second Conversion in My Spiritual Life - Part II
In which Teófilo reminisces about the events surrounding his "Catholic charismatic experience," and about the experience itself.
‘In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.
Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
and they shall prophesy. ~ Acts 2:17-18 (NRSVCE)
Immediate backstory
No human experience occurs in a vacuum. No one lives in total isolation from other people and events. Religious experiences and outcomes, no matter how personal, feed themselves from outside influences. I was no exception.
"Belonging" was a preoccupation I held in late in 1978 through 1979. "Belonging to what?" I pondered. Saturday Night Fever and Grease remained clear in my memory. These movies suggested to me that belonging to a close-knit circle of friends was one way to go. Of course, in these movies, well before the TV sitcom Friends, were gangs. Yes, they were gangs but with their worst edges filed away.
It was then that Manuel, a good friend to me at the time, gave me to read Run Baby Run by Nicky Cruz in Spanish translation. The book was an autobiography and conversion story set in the worst New York tenements. Nicky Cruz, of Puerto Rican descent who told the bloody, gruesome story of his membership in a street gang. This was well before street gangs became an object of national concern. I found his life thrilling, but I stopped reading the book at the moment of his conversion. I didn't care much about it as it involved some Pentecostal minister.
I held Pentecostals in collective contempt back then, mind you. The reason was because they had a "tent" church not far behind our house. Every night their ministers mixed praise to God with virulent anti-Catholic attacks. I didn't appreciate it at all.
At the time my readings were becoming more focused on aspects of the Catholic faith. I'd also become skilled in English and my universe had broadened as a result. I read a lot, and also became a serious reader of the Bible. I also felt the influences from parish and school, and music. Music by then had become a spiritual experience for me. "Praise music" was then beginning as a music genre, and the new tunes stirred something within me.
A Transcendental, Catalytic Encounter
So it came to pass that another rising converged into my life. Another one of those mysterious synchronicities took place. Nothing in my life was the same after that.
One Saturday afternoon I was hanging out at la Academia, when I saw a strange activity. Some men were unloading live music equipment from a truck. Since la Academia also doubled as the parish's activity center, I thought that a party was in the works.
I approached one of the men, a Puerto Rican of African descent whose skin was many shades darker than mine. He sported a stylized moustache, with fine tips in their ends. Then, the most trascendental and asinine (from my part) conversation took place:
- "Hey, when's the party?" I half-exclaimed at him with a dumb smile.
He looked at me with such an intense stare. He replied:
- "Party? The party here is with Christ." He emphasized with Christ in his speech.
I did a doubletake, checking my time and location in space. Because here was a lay man who spoke to me about Christ in the context of a party in my school. He was firm and not at all embarrassed about what he'd said. He was dumbfounding.
Oh, how much I wish to remember his name! He explained to me that they were to play at a healing Mass that night and that I ought to come.
A what now? Neither the phrase nor the concept of a healing Mass was a part of my then limited intellectual universe.
I must've mumbled an affirmative reply and he looked at me with skepticism. He didn't expect me to come that night...but I did.
A Holy Mass Filled with Praise to the Living God
This is what I saw: people sitting on folding chairs arranged in a circle around a raised platform. On the platform there were two folding rectangular tables, their long sides touching. A white cloth covered the tables because they were being used as an altar. Father Hugo was the celebrant.
There was song and praise. The people recognized the presence of Christ in his Word and in each other. The joy was palpable. Nothing compared to the moment of consecration and elevation of the Eucharist. The praise was loud and sustained. It was like an ocean wave crashing on shore. Christ was there, and this assembly knew it. At that moment my eight-plus years of religious instruction took a life of its own, outside of me. I wanted it inside of me.
I pondered that night in my heart afterwards, a lot.
The Dream
Not long afterwards I had the following dream:
I was standing in front of my childhood home, on the street. I was looking east, toward the Hernández family home. A large, discreet orb hovered in the morning sky. The luminous globe appeared made of golden light. It then approached and then enfolded me. It was shimmering within. I felt the light was alive. I then felt two hands touching my head in the manner of a blessing. I heard the words you are now baptized in the Holy Spirit. I felt like currents of electricity flowing from my head on down my body. The dream ended.
I was what now? Baptized in the Spirit? What's that?
The dream left me feeling good, as if filled with sweetness. I was also puzzled.
Did this happen?
I sketched out the dream to one of my friends, Raúl, whom I've mentioned before, one of my guitar teachers. I don't recall his reaction. Most likely he didn't know what to make of it.
I remember asking Mom in general about what was this charismatic renewal thing. I didn't reveal my dream to her. (In fact, I've never described my dream with this level of detail before, except to my wife and neighbor Efraín, as I will tell it.).
Mom answered that our neighbor, Efraín Hernández, was a charismatic Catholic. Why not ask him? Yes, the same neighbor over whose house I saw the Living Light hovering and coming towards me. I thought it fitting.
My life in the Spirit had begun. With its highs and lows, it's continued to this day. It also brought a heavier cross, as you'll see.