This Is How We Do It

this-is-how-we-do-it.jpg

This is how we pray.

We shuffle in, eyes still shaking off sleep. Some are here every Sunday. Some are here to atone for sins of the night before. We greet those we know, and smile at those we don’t.

We file into neat rows, as sunlight streams through windows, and take our wooden seats. We wait quietly, some whispering softly, Some with eyes eagerly casting about, waiting, Some already deep within.

The celebrant enters, making his way up an aisle. The music starts, and she signals that we are ready to begin. We close our eyes and ask for blessings.

We press palm to palm. We lift up our hearts. Let us give thanks, it is only right.

Comforted by the presence of one another, without speaking. This is where we gather. This is our congregation.

She speaks, and we listen. We all rise when he asks. The words become more than what they are, Teachings written in our minds, on our lips, and in our hearts.

Raise every voice in song, Haaaaaaaaaa-llelujah. Hymns are hummed, Psalms softly shushed.

We stand, we sit, we fall on our knees. Mine eyes have seen the glory. We clasp our hands and raise them to the heavens.

In our sacred space, our temple, We feel wholly to be holy. This place becomes what it is through the bodies that fill it.

We honor the divine, That from which we are made. We ask for the courage to be strong. We ask for the willingness to be altered. When we fall, we ask for the humility to try again.

Give us this day our daily breath, Be here, now, and at the hour of our death. When to dust we shall return. When the work is done and we lie still, motionless, eyes fallen shut.

Grant us peace. Grace. Hope. Love, which can light up the whole sky, Give us this day, Now and forever, From my light to yours.

Let us pray.

*title