Every week at our church, our pastor engages us in a moment of silence.
You can hear the occasional cough, a child asking what’s going on–
You can hear human breathing, our hearts beating out a steady rhythm.
In the big sanctuary service yesterday, all of us were gathered together,
and I saw the dust particles carry our prayers into the air,
up to the ceiling,
under the pews where we sat,
right up to and against the stained-glass windows that surround the space.
And Pastor Dale quoted the old spirit-words, “It’s me, O Lord, standing in the need of prayer.”
Lent, then, is about our breath,
about our stillness,
our trying to be quiet.
And it is about doing that together, claiming as a body of people
or as a community of friends
or as a blood-related family
that we will listen for God’s voice together,
especially when we are so unsure of everything else
May we learn the sometimes-awkward and precious art of
practicing quiet together,
of facing our palms to the sky
to remind ourselves that we are to receive
something good when we are postured this way.
And so we all breathe together,
You knew us yesterday,
You know us today,
You know us tomorrow.
We breathe You in
and pray that our air
fills with You
until Kingdom come.