It was a glorious feeling. Drenching us was the bright, warm, sunshine of a clear, blue-sky day. Collared shirts of light blue were unbuttoned and un-tucked. Ties were nowhere to be seen, either crammed into near empty book bags or jammed into the pockets of our requisite navy blue pants. I can still smell the flowers and the freshly cut grass as some of folks in the neighborhood, whom I didn’t even know, manned their mowers - and smiled and waved and wished us all the best. That neighborhood which I was passing through was much like that of Stowe or the outskirts of Pottstown, though I lived in a row house within the city limits. Normally, I would ride the school bus home, but that day was special – very special. That day, I would walk home together with the guys. A good bit of horseplay ensued along the way as our shirts were flapping in the warm, gentle breeze. Every neighbor just seemed to know: it was the last day of school: summer was here! Alleluia! It would last an eternity (or, at least, so a young mind thought). Oh, to have this feeling everyday! The energy we bore that day was boundless, electric, and contagious. There was so much to do; so much to accomplish. Oh, where to begin? We were ready to run and to ride; to skip and to jump; to swim and to swing. We were ready to hide and to seek and to find well into the night. There were bikes to be ridden; ballgames to play; ghosts in graveyards to be found; creeks to be crossed; lightning bugs to capture. Then there was much exploring to do with trails in the mountains waiting to be traversed while sands by the sea were awaiting the soles of our feet. During these days the Good Humor man always seemed apprehensive as he came down our little one-way street and was quickly swarmed by his youthful customers so eager for his ice cold and creamy treats. The glorious feeling of that last school day was, indeed, just a beginning. A different sort of school was now in session. There would be a different type of curriculum and method of teaching – a summer school of a different sort. Much would be learned in those summer months of youth concerning family and friends; fun and freedom. That last day was just the beginning. I loved those days of summer. I still do. They were glorious. They still are – and they are meant to last forever. I believe the Day of Pentecost was much like that last day of school. It is the First Day of an Eternal Summer. The feeling is glorious; the energy boundless and contagious. There is just so much to do; so much to accomplish. All the neighbors seem to be aware. There is awe. There is wonder. Sheep have now become Shepherds. Disciples have now become Apostles and these Apostles, filled with the Holy Spirit, now know as well. They know exactly what to do. They know exactly what to say. Locked doors and Upper Rooms, classrooms of a sort, are left behind and they now go forth to preach and proclaim a whole new curriculum. They go forth to play in the Spirit. Pentecost is here! It is the Last Day of School as an Eternal Summer begins. Energized anew by the Spirit, we, too, are called to go forth to preach and proclaim; to play in the Spirit while embraced by the eternal warmth of the Son. It is a glorious feeling, indeed - one that will last all summer.
Peace!
Fr. Wilson