Watching the Flame
I often hear people say that religion is all about control. While that criticism may be true of far too many religions, controlling others has never been even the smallest motivation for my own spiritual practices.
When I think of the “heart” of my own religion, I flash back to a practice of my youth. On cold days I would “religiously” get up fifteen minutes early to sit in front of our gas heater and watch the flame. During that brief time I would try to fully awaken to the coming day and to dedicate myself to others.
Sitting watching the flame was a religious practice that allowed me to take a moment of silence to center and tune my heart. I think of religion as the symbols and rituals that take us to the threshold of that reverence. I couldn't always feel reverence, but having a religious practice of sitting down each day made spiritual moments happen much more often. It is true that religion is just the husk of the spiritual life, but husks can be very useful in protecting young growth.
Beliefs and rituals can be artful invitations to the threshold of reverence, but ultimately we can only see through our own eyes and feel through our own skin. In all my years of ministry I have never once wanted anyone to follow me. I have preached every sermon in the hopes of helping listeners get free from their weekly entanglements and problems and to spend a sacred moment warming in the illuminating fire of their own hearts.
When the COVID-19 pandemic shut down most public gatherings in 2020, our former pastor created a prayer vigil for members to sign up for, and I chose the 5:00 time slot. Not because I was usually up at that time, but because I knew it wouldn't "interfere with my day." Six years later, I still get up at 5:00 (or thereabouts) every morning for reading, meditating, and journaling for 30-40 minutes. It's the most cherished part of my day.