Of Mugs, Buds, and Prayers
Sometimes it is the most practical of problems at hand that are the serendipities of spiritual journeys. The practicality of getting rid of two drained coffee cups.
But sometimes it is a smile. Other times it is the twinkle in one’s eyes. At still other times, it is the hardness and softness and warmth of a hand clasped. And then yet sometimes, it is the words of inquisitive conversation. Still, at yet other times, it is the unexpected telephone call. But then, it can be the unexpected little e-mail with awesome words of power and healing that can nourish an arid soul, provide healing to a wounded heart, to strengthen a weakened will.
Those little words . . . “I missed you “my praying Buddy”’.
I am filled with a cacophony of perceptions of how and what and why and all kinds of unanswerable notions of my being “a” praying Buddy, or “the” praying Buddy, or the “praying” Buddy, or the praying “Buddy,” but no matter, that cacophony of perceptions causes a ruddy glow of some kind of fulfilling resonance deep within me that fosters that inherent will to live.
What matters, is that the recognition of being a praying Buddy implies the active participation in some shared aspect of another traveler’s spiritual journey.
And at that point in space and time, at that innocuous need for the disposition of two soiled coffee cups in the hallway of a Unitarian Universalist church, at the marking of a way-point on the spiritual journeys of two seekers of spiritual things . . . something happened.
What happened is unknowable. Beyond perception. Transcendent. Like the force of the dark matter of the universe, what happened is real and pervasive.
And it changed a perspective. A paradigm shift.
It called for a new look at old things . . . very old things . . . millennial old things. For when I think of myself as a child of Abraham, so he does too. And our seeking seeks the commonality found by two of the offspring of Abraham, differing by cultural happenstance only, Christian and Muslim.
When I think of prayer, when he thinks of prayer, when we think of prayer . . . we seek new ways to think of prayer that transcends our cultural pasts.
For some, to pray is to kneel with head bowed low. For others, it is to kneel with head raised high. For still others, it is to stand. For others, to stand, with arms and hands and heads stretched out to the radiant heavens yielding forth the manifestation of their personal savior. But for others, it is to kneel with body prostrated forward, in submission to the power of the Divine. For still others, it is movement, dancing, repetition, rhythm, connection, inhaling, exhaling, uttering, submitting. For to pray is a most personal and intimate experience. For to pray is to bare one’s soul.
And to be given the gift of being another’s prayer Buddy is an awesome gift indeed.
And a gift that must be cherished and honored as one cares for life itself.
As we have read together in the little printed program of our UU church, that quotation by Abraham J. Heschel, that little nugget of inspiration and comfort of what prayer can and does do . . . when you tell me that I am your “prayer Buddy,” I am filled with healing and life and inspiration and love. For what on earth more could you give as a gift?
“Prayer invites God to be present in our spirits and in our lives. Prayer cannot bring water to parched land, nor mend a broken bridge, nor rebuild a ruined city, but prayer can water an arid soul, mend a broken heart and rebuild a weakened will.” (Abraham J. Heschel)
My Buddy, together, we share our prayer.
The Refectory Manager
But sometimes it is a smile. Other times it is the twinkle in one’s eyes. At still other times, it is the hardness and softness and warmth of a hand clasped. And then yet sometimes, it is the words of inquisitive conversation. Still, at yet other times, it is the unexpected telephone call. But then, it can be the unexpected little e-mail with awesome words of power and healing that can nourish an arid soul, provide healing to a wounded heart, to strengthen a weakened will.
Those little words . . . “I missed you “my praying Buddy”’.
I am filled with a cacophony of perceptions of how and what and why and all kinds of unanswerable notions of my being “a” praying Buddy, or “the” praying Buddy, or the “praying” Buddy, or the praying “Buddy,” but no matter, that cacophony of perceptions causes a ruddy glow of some kind of fulfilling resonance deep within me that fosters that inherent will to live.
What matters, is that the recognition of being a praying Buddy implies the active participation in some shared aspect of another traveler’s spiritual journey.
And at that point in space and time, at that innocuous need for the disposition of two soiled coffee cups in the hallway of a Unitarian Universalist church, at the marking of a way-point on the spiritual journeys of two seekers of spiritual things . . . something happened.
What happened is unknowable. Beyond perception. Transcendent. Like the force of the dark matter of the universe, what happened is real and pervasive.
And it changed a perspective. A paradigm shift.
It called for a new look at old things . . . very old things . . . millennial old things. For when I think of myself as a child of Abraham, so he does too. And our seeking seeks the commonality found by two of the offspring of Abraham, differing by cultural happenstance only, Christian and Muslim.
When I think of prayer, when he thinks of prayer, when we think of prayer . . . we seek new ways to think of prayer that transcends our cultural pasts.
For some, to pray is to kneel with head bowed low. For others, it is to kneel with head raised high. For still others, it is to stand. For others, to stand, with arms and hands and heads stretched out to the radiant heavens yielding forth the manifestation of their personal savior. But for others, it is to kneel with body prostrated forward, in submission to the power of the Divine. For still others, it is movement, dancing, repetition, rhythm, connection, inhaling, exhaling, uttering, submitting. For to pray is a most personal and intimate experience. For to pray is to bare one’s soul.
And to be given the gift of being another’s prayer Buddy is an awesome gift indeed.
And a gift that must be cherished and honored as one cares for life itself.
As we have read together in the little printed program of our UU church, that quotation by Abraham J. Heschel, that little nugget of inspiration and comfort of what prayer can and does do . . . when you tell me that I am your “prayer Buddy,” I am filled with healing and life and inspiration and love. For what on earth more could you give as a gift?
“Prayer invites God to be present in our spirits and in our lives. Prayer cannot bring water to parched land, nor mend a broken bridge, nor rebuild a ruined city, but prayer can water an arid soul, mend a broken heart and rebuild a weakened will.” (Abraham J. Heschel)
My Buddy, together, we share our prayer.
The Refectory Manager
posted by The Refectory Manager | 4:17 PM
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