Physostegia virginiana or obedient plant is a member of the mint family. Common throughout the tallgrass region in wet prairies, along streams, and in low marshy areas. The flowers, purple in hue, can be rotated around the stem, and remain where they are placed; thus the common name obedient plant. Fittingly, we planted obedient around the garden bench donated by Bishop James and Dionne Farnon.
–Note from Dean Brigid Brenchley’s Prairie Journal
Chicago, December 1989
At my pre-ordination retreat I learned that the diocese of Chicago, being rather Anglo-Catholic, retained the old custom of prostration at ordinations.
I was back from Exeter and went on to seminary. I had peace about my decision. With the time away in England, my family –even my father—had also gotten over the shock. In fact, when the time came for my ordination the whole lot of them decided to make a holiday of it, booking rooms at the Palmer House, for what they teasingly term the “Quirky ceremony.” Yes, I knew peace and joy about becoming a priest.
But this prostration thing was a little much.
For three days we were at a semi-silent prayer retreat near Lincoln Park in Chicago. Six of us. All soon to be priests. Unlike my earthy, low-slung Franciscan lodgings near Santa Maria degli Angel, we were staying in a high-rise convent on the Gold Coast. When we prayed, we looked out at yachts bobbing on Lake Michigan to the east, and at a swirl of ethnic restaurants and nightclubs to the west. During free time, I walked north to Lincoln Park Zoo. There I watched the elephants dance.
I was internally probing some last reservations about my vocation, when the smaller, female elephant came over to the rail where I leaned. She nudged me with her trunk, with her snout, her forehead. She had smiling elephant eyelashes. Like a living Ganesh, she was coaxing my last hesitations from me. Remover of obstacles.
That was just before I learned that, during the ceremony, we were to physically lie down before Bishop Grishom. No self-respecting girl from Colorado lies down at the feet of a bishop!
“What happens again?” I asked one of the other seminarians about to be ordained. “It’s right after the examination, when the cantor chants the Veni Creator Spiritus. While everyone is in prayer for us.”
“Is it mandatory?”
“I think the term is obedience. Bishop Grishom believes our bodies carry our prayers and intentions. It’s why he still likes kneeling at points in the liturgy. Or standing. Very Anglican.”
I was mortified. But what could I do?
My family filled two pews, looking like they wanted their usual popcorn and cokes. This was better than the Cooper Theater and Cinerama!
Bishop Grishom, in his ornate chair, beamed kindly at us because we were willing, moved, to do this crazy thing.
Then, there I was. Flat. Upon beautiful white tiles.
Veni
Creator
Spiritus
Come
Creator
Spirit.
White robes, white marble. White upon white. All I could see. Suddenly, it’s the Teacup Bowl in the Rockies all over again. I’m blinded, exploded, on white. Love crosses the threshold. I’m filled with Love. But, love not just for me. Love through me!