It seemed like a great idea at the end of summer. Full of energy and innovation for the new school year. "Instead of evening chapel," I said, "why not a Quaker-styled service?" The chaplain pushed back a little. How much silence? How would it work? He must have also been full of summer optimism because he said, "Sure, why not?" I chose a date far away in October.
October decided to show up, and I started getting questions. I never knew that silence needed so much explaining. You close your mouth, enter the space, sit down for a while, someone shakes hands, you shake hands, you leave. Somewhere in that space, magic can happen. I don't know how, I just know it does. I wrote up four emails. On Tuesday, to explain to the community what we were going to do. On Wednesday, to talk about what to do in silence. On Thursday, to explain how one can speak in meeting. On Friday, a short FAQ about Quakers. For good measure there was a short summary placed on every table in the dining hall to be read during the evening meal. The three hundred eighty some odd boys plus the faculty walked into the chapel. It did not matter that with the Fisk organ, cross, and stained glass windows, it did not look like any meeting house I have ever known. All that was needed was there. A few pews, a few people, and a willingness to try something new. Nervous, they were determinedly quiet. We stood up. We sang Simple Gifts. They sat down. I remained standing and reminded them of the story of Elijah and the still small voice of God, read a query, and sat down. Silence. Silence amazes me every time. Except it is never really silent though, is it? Every throat tickle turns into a cough which then turns into a quiet giggle. The bodies move side to side, limbs growing mysteriously longer as the pews grow smaller. A reminder that all is as it should be, Siri decides to announce herself from someone's cell phone. A few more requisite giggles, a release valve for the nervous quiet. A deep breath, and we sit in expectant worship once more. I looked at my watch. Fifteen minutes give or take a few coughs, the small voice of Siri, and giggles. I had promised only fifteen to twenty minutes of silence for the first try. Much can be said for brevity and decided on fifteen. I shook hands with my neighbor, everyone else shook hands. We sang Amazing Grace, the hymn that works for almost any occasion and exited into waiting evening.
0 Comments
|
To Blog?Why not? Categories
All
Archives
April 2022
|