Some other bloggers may have heard this story before, but it’s been on my mind a lot lately. The first time I got involved with interfaith work was two summers ago, when I worked for Interfaith Worker Justice as an organizer on the Memphis Living Wage Campaign. During training, organizers of various faiths from their Seminary Summer Program and I all went to a one week training together in Chicago where, among other things, we created our own interfaith worship services. These remain some of my favorite services that I have ever attended.
A few days in a self-described ‘open orthodox’ Rabbi, Turkish Muslim woman studying to lead faith initiatives, and I were working together to create a worship. We began talking about a service based around the body’s role in worship — with dance, eating and drinking, etc. I started wondering aloud if we could try some of the distinct physical ways of praying, and asked if it would be appropriate for one of our Muslim colleagues to lead us in the rhythm of a noon prayer. The Rabbi stopped me and said, “We
l l, a lot of the Jews wouldn’t be able to participate.” I was confused. He explained that since the Temple was destroyed, many Jews believe they can not prostrate themselves to God until the Temple is built again, except at a few very special times of year. He felt it was to make sure that you wait to be in the right mind, in the right heart, to really prostrate yourself and be wholly in prayer to God. He said that there had been times when he felt great jealousy watching his Muslim brothers and sisters in prayer, because sometimes he wanted to just enter in to this kind of bowing prayer as well. Our Muslim fellow explained that for her, these physical positions several times a day helped her to put her self in a right frame of mind, to prepare herself for being in a right heart to approach God.
First, I was fascinated, and second, I was going over in my head every time I had prayed, and how my body affected my intention. This was one of the incredible examples in my life where deep and unfettered interaction with people of other faiths expanded my own faith and understanding. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately because I’ve been thinking about intention. It is hard for me to balance my knowledge that I don’t always have the my mind totally committed and clear about works of justice I want to pursue, and that could make them less, with the knowledge that if I wait to be completely clear about my intentions nothing will ever happen. Particularly in my attempts to face the people around me with open kindness (a particular goal I’m working on this Lenten season), I struggle with how much I need to prepare myself to be kinder before hand and how much just to say the kind thing until real kindness enters my heart.
I may not be being clear at all, but I thought I’d share that meditation I’ve been having lately, and hope you all are well!
