My wife and I recently took out a mortgage to buy a lovely flat in a brand new development that’s still in the midst of finishing touches. We must have it properly blessed! No one’s lived here before how on earth could we move in without God’s blessing? insisted my grandmother straight away. Of course, the home had to be blessed we simply couldn’t risk any bad luck! We need happiness, joy, and prosperity in our new place, my mother encouraged the idea.
Although we were both a bit sceptical at first, we couldn’t stand against the family pressure and decided we’d better organise a house blessing ceremony.
Its a necessity, she declared firmly. At the agreed day and time, the doorbell rang. In walked a vicar with greying hair and a long beard. A large cross hung around his neck on a thick chain, and he carried a censer and a well-used bag. He handed each of us a candle and began to explain how it would all go.
My dear ones, the vicar announced in a resonant voice, light your candles and follow behind me. We did as we were told, expecting a solemn and sacred occasion. However, when my father tried to light his candle, it was unbelievably stubborn. It smoked, sizzled, and simply refused to catch, no matter how hard we tried. After a number of failed attempts, the vicar hastily scooped up his things and stuffed them back in his bag.
Get out! Get out! There must be something very wrong in here… said the vicar, a shaky confusion in his tone. He grabbed his bag and quickly hurried away from our flat, leaving us baffled and open-mouthed.
A strange priest, and an even stranger candle, my wife reflected, noticing that, oddly enough, the vicar’s own candle was burning just fine now.
Maybe he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and that’s why the blessing didn’t happen, my mother quipped, trying to lighten the rather awkward mood.
He talks a big game but legs it at the end. Probably off somewhere without internet, I mused, making an effort to find some humour in this bizarre situation. Where would we even run? We’re tied to this place for the next fifteen years with all the bills to pay! I added, forcing a grin.
So, are we staying put or should we ring up another vicar? My grandmothers voice brought us back to reality, urging us to figure out what on earth we were meant to do now.
