Sitting in the back of the 150 year old church, I feel an immense stillness, even as the audience, anticipating the choir’s arrival, chatters away like blackbirds in a tree. The redwood walls and beamed, valulted ceiling hold an energy of simple worship. The singing begins in total stillness. The ensemble of men singing a cappella brings the sense of the sacred alive. The language is Latin but the simple melodic lines, the repetitions of phrases, fills me with reverence. Allellu, Allellu.
Living in this small country town, everything, from the old buildings to the even older music, brings me back in time, yet forward into the presence of God. All that one needs to continuously remember the Divine is right here. Again and again, I make conscious choices and the doors open wide.
Remarkable, watching the people enter this church. I had no idea there were so many lame, crippled, and blind men and women living in the area. The church has drawn them to its bosom, so they too can forget the human dilemmas and be in the Presence. In this, we share the same longing.
Allellu, allellu. I'm filled with love for the simplicity of my life—a stop in the bakery in the morning, a few hours of work, a long walk on the beach, dinner with friends, and then, Allellu, Allellu, the voices of angels singing me off to bed.
Living a life I thought was only possible in the cloistered walls of a monastery, yet here I am, alive in this world. Allellu, allellu.
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