Saturday, February 12, 2011

The Church of Running

This evening I laced up my scriptures, put my hymns in my ears and headed off to worship. I have participated in this religion for about 3 years, and was baptized during a grueling 3 day ceremony. I’ve worshiped in various locations and at varied intensity. At times I was so zealous I partook of the sacrament on a daily basis. At other times my faith was faltering and I visited its holy grounds once every few months. Now that I’m feeling settled, I have rededicated myself to my religious devotion. I decided to explore a new church building today and I was rewarded with a profound spiritual experience.I took the subway to the Brooklyn Bridge and began services with a prayer. I gave my invocation by reaching up to heaven, and then touched the ground. With knees bent and arms folded I prayed for my safety. I ended my prayer by evoking the strength within me and I began my worship.

While at church I saw other disciples assiduously involved in worship. Some were so involved in their prayer they had no awareness for those surrounding them. Yet many made a point to acknowledge other members studying with them and sharing their gospel. Warm pleasantries were shared with a nod, smile or wave. Everyone took comfort in knowing the other was there with a common belief and a higher purpose in mind.
This Hondo was filled with the spirit of the devoted bearing their testimony. I stood up, enlightened and empowered with the burning in my bosom, and contributed to the congregation. I gave witness to my firm conviction in this doctrine by bearing my soul to the parishioners. While deep in Kensho I felt the presence of a higher power and felt absolution.

I gave my benediction in similar fashion to how I started. Then I sat, legs folded, contrite, grateful for the blessings I have of health and happiness. Thankful for the experience. I felt redemption.

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