Friday, April 27, 2012
The Vast Eternal
This morning a friend of mine shared this link on his facebook page. I thought, how nice...a chant. I'll just listen a second and see if I like it. Instead of listening a second, I was transported. Suddenly, the sheer numbers of those seeking the face of God rose up before me. The different pronunciation of hallelujah seemed like a lens that zoomed out from my chair in my house in my neighborhood in my country, and showed me a picture of pilgrims on their journey of faith in places and times I have never seen. Whatever their language or tradition, whatever their doctrine or understanding of their place in the universe, devout people everywhere are seeking to live their lives as best they can. It might mean an orange monk's robe. Or a priest's collar or rabbi's Yarmulke. But it also means a fireman's, or soldier's, or policeman's hat. It means the dusty boots of the conservationist, the exhausted arms of a mother at midnight rocking her newborn. It means the aid workers in war torn villages, the food delivery drivers in places wracked by famine, the medical teams in the ER. Sometimes the devout are so busy giving urgent care, there is little time or energy for hallelujahs. Let those of us who have the luxury of time lend our voices. To a good cause, to the positive experience of others who encounter us. To the hallelujah.