This last week I had the rare opportunity to attend the Holy Eucharist three times. My dear friend, The Very Reverend Cynthia Briggs Kittredge, became Dean and President of a Seminary, and during my visit to the festive occasion I had two opportunities to participate, and alas, this morning-makes three. In my early Catholic upbringing, we “counted” even communion at a wedding as “counting” toward the “credit” of mass. Were we ever missing the point. The grace of the occasion, however subtle (or in the instance of Cynthia’s installation ceremony- grand), is a gift. It is a moment of predictable words, and silences, of prayers and offerings, music and community. It is Holy Communion. I also had the lovely opportunity to practice yoga four times this week.
These beautiful experiences are subtle, quietly devout, and personal. They can not really be put to words, but a best as I can describe-they both offer the most exquisite balance of giving and receiving, offering and accepting. It is the joining of selves in a group, all from our own agendas, troubles, joys, and hopes. We arrive, we place our hands together, and pray with our bodies and our souls.
It was a once in a lifetime experience to be with Cynthia as she became President and Dean of the Seminary of the Southwest, with the pomp and circumstance that it deserved. I was moved beyond words.
It also was a once in a lifetime experience to be in Austin, Texas-on a 100 degree morning with Cathy George in a yoga class, on the morning of this festive occasion. Praying and twisting our bodies in joy for a friend, hands in prayer-namaste.