Apparition
By Joel K. Thomas, Parishioner
Saint Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church, Dallas, TX
She works in the same building as me, and I don`t see her very often, but when I do see her, she looks tired-exhausted. She works for a company somewhere above my button on the elevator panels, and I have no idea what she does, or on what floor. One recent morning I darted between the elevator doors just in time to learn the source of her fatigue.
"Girl, yes: I am tired," she said to another woman I have seen before. "We had a busy night last night, and I hardly had time to sleep before I came in today."
"Oh, sister. A busy night here? Doing what?" the other woman asked from behind giant sunglasses. She dug a hand into that day`s giant purse. "I didn`t know anybody stayed late."
"A busy night at my second job," the tired woman said, then looked toward her feet and pressed her fingertips hard against the back of her neck.
The elevator arrived at my floor, so I didn`t hear the rest of the conversation. But I did instantly stop marinating myself in reflexive resentment about the single hour of overtime I had worked the evening before. A second full-time job? I considered whether I should perceive a celestial admonition ("Stop whining!") in what I had heard.
Despite her weariness, each time I see this woman, she smiles and says "Hello" or "Good morning" or "Good afternoon." Unnoticeable phrases when spoken by anyone else in an office building, but she utters them in a sincere and pensive way that somehow hints at an inner wisdom or sadness more ancient than rain. Usually her greeting makes me feel better; sometimes it makes me feel no different; very occasionally, it seems more like a blessing than like a greeting, imparting a tranquility and subtle shiver of my whole skin that together make me wonder whether I might have just interacted with an angel.
Or maybe I tend to read too much into this kind of thing. In the Bible, most of the time when people encounter an angel, the experience doesn`t just nudge their nerve endings; it reduces them to quivering terror, so that the angel has to begin the conversation with the instruction "Fear not." But-not always. This from one translation of the book of Hebrews: "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it."
The more I have cheerfully disregarded the unholiest dogma of my Southern Baptist upbringing, the more that verse has unveiled itself as one of the spookiest in all of Scripture. It seems far more chilling than any depiction of thundering angered vengeful God, because when a deity aims omnipotent rage at you, then at least you probably know pretty much exactly what that deity wants from you. Not so with an entity that sends its messengers into your life undetected, on who knows what mission.
Of course at this point in the saga of the world, the possible incarnation of an angel could have little to do with matters of import and lots to do with the sheer entertainment value of full immersion in the human variety show. "We have been made a spectacle to the whole universe," says the first book of Corinthians, "to angels as well as to men." I like the idea of a God who would encourage the citizens of heaven to find amusement among the creatures made in God`s own image, because it implies an infinite reserve of unconditional love for us.
And God knows I constantly need that. So I hope I always remember to treat people caringly, on the elevator and anywhere else I might meet someone with a possible halo
