Reflections on Holy Space

Two moments over the weekend.
On Saturday I went down to do opening invocation to the Special Olympics spring games.  I do not summon God as I had always wanted to believe the statements of the director to Stephen in chapter 4 of The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce
"To receive that call, Stephen, said the priest, is the greatest honour that the Almighty God can bestow upon a man. No king or emperor on this earth has the power of the priest of God. No angel or archangel in heaven, no saint, not even the Blessed Virgin herself, has the power of a priest of God: the power of the keys, the power to bind and to loose from sin, the power of exorcism, the power to cast out from the creatures of God the evil spirits that have power over them; the power, the authority, to make the great God of Heaven come down upon the altar and take the form of bread and wine. What an awful power, Stephen!"

But I do not summon God I merely point to where I think God is already here. An invocation does not make something "HOLY" it only asks that we remember that the the time space between us is full of grace. On that morning I did the invocation and it went well abut the "holiest" moment was when a young competitor for the games was asked to lead us in singing the National; Anthem. The task was out of his range but the crowd joined in th singing to show his that he was not alone.The Anthem was not treated as part of civil religion but as a moment of proclaiming a unity in that moment of helping one another through rough times.

when the weather is nice

I left the games to go to a memorial service on the beach. I was not leading the service, one of the retired associate priests of the church was doing the service out of friendship with the family. The wind was very cold and hard coming out of the east and about a hundred people showed up in that miserable weather to gather around an open gazebo overlooking the beach. The gazebo could comfortably fit about 25 and so most of us huddled outside. The son gave a talk about his father and the Priest did a homily and probably only 15 of the 100 could hear what was said. I was on the outside of the gazebo along with some others as a wind block, but the wind overwhelmed any attempt by the  speakers.to be heard. The only time we could hear what was said was when all read the 23rd Psalm and recited the Lord's prayer. Most of family friends were older and they had no business being out in that miserable weather but they were there- not able to hear much of the service but there out of love respect for the man, and love and compassion for his widow, the children and grandchildren. The blessing came from the people who used their silence to speak volumes about love.

If I had been in charge, I would have insisted that the service be done  in the church-- it was already in reserve if it was raining hard but it was only misting- nad the taken the immediate family down to the beach to commit the ashes.But a nice little religious ceremony would not have had the power of a community gathered in adversity as it proclaims that "we are with you no matter what!'

I don't have the power of Joyce's priest all I can do is point to God's blessing in the midst of us when 2 or 3 are gather together.in love