St Philip was praying in the catacombs on the vigil of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit arrived in a fiery sphere — not a twinkling little flame, but a round, whole, impossible globe of fire. It entered his mouth. It is difficult to imagine what that must of been like for him. It must have been a terrible experience: the heat, the choking, the panic. The Holy Spirit was not floating above him elegantly like dove; rather he burned inside St Philip like a glowing coal pushing down his throat and entering his heart. As one author put it, “For one terrible second, in the mouth of the catacombs, in the throat of the young saint, grace had a circumference. God had pressure.”

Before Our Holy Father became the saint of joy, who played practical jokes, and spoke with simple love about heavenly things, who kept Popes and Cardinals holy and the young from sin, he had to survive the intimacy of God entering his throat, his heart, and his soul.

We are all familiar with the way artists down the centuries have depicted the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Neat little tongues of decorative fire hovering over the heads of the Apostles and Our Lady. Calm, serene and pious. Maybe a dove flying about somewhere in the scene. We’ve come to prefer Pentecost at a distance, a painted version. St Philip’s Pentecost reminds us that the Holy Spirit is not neat and tidy, but embodied and disruptive. God does not remain safely outside the human person. He enters us and fills us, and demolishes the vain belief that we can remain in control of our words, our bodies and our lives if we choose to allow him in.

Pentecost was not neat and tidy. It was terrifying and consoling, empowering and humbling, breaking and mending — mighty wind and fire that brought the Church to birth. The disciples were never the same again. The Apostles were changed men, who then changed the world. We don’t need a decorative Pentecost with polite flames and white doves — another holy card version of fire that never burns anything. We need an untidy Pentecost, a disruptive and disturbing Pentecost, a Pentecost that enables us to be the sort of disciples that the Lord Jesus calls us to be. To go out to the whole world and proclaim the Good News, knowing that he works with us and confirms his word with the signs that accompany it.

Light immortal, light divine,
Visit thou these hearts of thine,
And our inmost being fill.

This year, as we pray our Novena in preparation for the feast of St Philip, we are also taking part in the original and archetypal Novena, which is those nine days between the Ascension and Pentecost, when the disciples were praying in the upper room with Our Lady, preparing themselves for the descent of the Holy Spirit who would give them strength to preach the good news. We could say that it is hardly surprising, given that St Philip died on the Feast of Corpus Christi 1595 and the liturgical calendar is what it is, but that would be missing a central feature of Our Holy Father’s life. On the Vigil of Pentecost 1544 (which fell on Saturday 24th May that year, a day after it will fall this year), the Holy Spirit entered his heart in the form of a ball of fire and prepared him for the task he was to perform, the conversion of the Eternal City.

When Elijah was preparing to depart from this world, Elisha who was to take over his ministry begged him: “I pray you, let me inherit a double share of your spirit.” Likewise, when St Thomas was asked to write a commentary on the Song of Songs he exclaimed: “Give me St Bernard’s spirit and I will interpret this divine Canticle like St Bernard.” If we are to imitate St Philip by carrying on his work, if we are to serve God after his example and achieve anything like what he achieved, we need a share of his spirit. What we need is to be filled with that same Holy Spirit which worked through him all those years ago.

At the same time, we must remember that we are talking about imitating the Saint who said: “He who desires ecstasies and visions does not know what he is desiring.” Therefore, if we don’t fancy the idea of having our ribs broken by a spiritual flame, we need not worry, because the spirit we are asking for can also be found in the gentle breeze. Saint Philip kept the events of that Vigil of Pentecost secret until the end of his life, revealing them only after he had carried out his mission. The important thing is not that we have ecstasies or that we perform great miracles or see visions, but rather that the fruit of the Holy Spirit shine forth in our lives. Crowds may have flocked when the eccentric priest from the Chiesa Nuova performed his miracles, but it was the joy, gentleness, and kindness that allowed Saint Philip to gather his followers and, in doing so, slowly but surely convert Rome. It is these fruits of the Holy Spirit that will help us to convert our city, our family, and, ultimately, ourselves.

Therefore, as we prepare for the quick succession of these two great feasts, we ask for Saint Philip’s intercession that we may receive the Holy Spirit, and for the Holy Spirit’s help as we seek to imitate Our Holy Father, saying: May the Holy Spirit enkindle in us that same fire with which he miraculously pierced the heart of Blessed Philip.