I have a number of publications I read on a regular basis. That goes for some newspapers and other things like some religious publications. For example, I have been reading The Christian Century for decades. There are more academic publications like Spiritus, which is put out by the Society for the Study of Christian Spirituality, of which I am a member. I also try to read things by other Christian groups and even in interfaith areas, in order that I might have a familiarity with what is going on in the world of religion. It is amazing what I can learn and how just a little reading can prevent ignorance!
One thing I read regularly is the National Catholic Reporter (NCR). I like to know what is current in the Catholic world within the USA. Besides the number of Catholics in the world is so huge, I figure it is important to know what so many people are thinking. Of course, there is not uniformity among every Catholic around the world. Therefore, it is nice to be aware of the issues that are in debate. In many cases, it is not much difference from my own Quaker tradition.
A recent, small article in NCR drew my attention. Author, Dani Clark, penned an essay entitled, “Praying Hands are Begging Hands.” I don’t know Dani Clark, but learned she lives in DC and works for an international development organization in the communications area. I am sure I could find out more about her, but it is not important here. What is important is what Clark said and how that informs my own thinking. Clark opens her essay with some charming words. She tells us, “When we were little, my sister and I would take turns putting my mother's ivory-colored slip on our heads. To us, the polyester undergarment was like Mary's veil, but also like the Bionic Woman's blonde locks, which we didn't have.”
As you might guess, she gets more serious. She narrates how she was instructed to hold the cup for communion and other trappings of become an adult Catholic. Much of what is at stake is what you do with your hands. I was intrigued. I don’t know that Quakers ever think about their hands. When you are sitting in silence in worship, hands are pretty irrelevant! But I was ready to learn.
Clark soon offered a closer look at hands. She challenges us, “Praying hands are everywhere. In yoga classes and in most religions…Think of all those pleading hands in centuries-old paintings and statues and the way we all still kneel after Communion, heads down and hands clasped, reckoning with our faulty selves.” I realized I had observed much of what she is talking about, but I never paid attention.
Clark comes to the heart of the essay with an experience I can never match. She informs us, “In Italian, the word pregare means to pray, but also ‘to beg.’ The Italians — I'm married to one, so I know — like to put their hands in the praying position, move them back and forth, and say, ti prego or, ‘I beg you’ when they want you to do something, or better, when with a shrewd look in their eye they are trying to explain something and want you to believe it. As if to say: ‘Now please, won't you believe me?’” I can only contrast this to the typical Quaker posture of the hands resting in the lap of the one who typically has her head slightly bowed, eyes closed waiting for the presence of God to become present. If this Quaker is begging, it is not evident.
Finally, I read the small paragraph that was the big payoff for engaging this wonderful essay. Clark says, “Yes, praying hands are begging hands, they are conciliatory. And they are nonviolent because they prove your inability to fight back. They prove your vulnerability. I find that beautiful — and useful. Maybe because putting your hands together doesn't require much, not a sinless soul or even a mustard seed of faith.” Let’s quickly unpack this passage.
Praying hands are conciliatory. They are peace-makers, which I find to be insightful. It is easy to imagine a hand with a gun and the finger on the trigger. Unfortunately, that is a normal image in our culture. Maybe spiritual folks can begin to offer this alternative image of praying hands. Let’s reconcile differences, rather than resorting to violence and settling these differences in ways that often lead to retaliation.
Indeed, praying hands indicate our vulnerability. But vulnerability is a hallmark of love and reconciliation. Violence wants no part of vulnerability. Violence wishes for the end of the other, rather than healing for both of us---the other and myself. Any one of us can combat violence and the hands that perpetuate violence. Every one of us can put our hands together. It does not require much. As Clark tells us, we don’t have to be sinless. It may take a little courage.
But if we can find one or two others---or even a community---it will be easier to pray. To pray is to hope. To hope is to act confidently that ultimately and finally violence will not win the day. Surely, prayer and love are connected. And if we pray, we connect with the energy of love that is at the heart of the universe. Siding with love through prayer aligns us with the evolutionary purpose of life and the universe.
Put your hands together and pray.
One thing I read regularly is the National Catholic Reporter (NCR). I like to know what is current in the Catholic world within the USA. Besides the number of Catholics in the world is so huge, I figure it is important to know what so many people are thinking. Of course, there is not uniformity among every Catholic around the world. Therefore, it is nice to be aware of the issues that are in debate. In many cases, it is not much difference from my own Quaker tradition.
A recent, small article in NCR drew my attention. Author, Dani Clark, penned an essay entitled, “Praying Hands are Begging Hands.” I don’t know Dani Clark, but learned she lives in DC and works for an international development organization in the communications area. I am sure I could find out more about her, but it is not important here. What is important is what Clark said and how that informs my own thinking. Clark opens her essay with some charming words. She tells us, “When we were little, my sister and I would take turns putting my mother's ivory-colored slip on our heads. To us, the polyester undergarment was like Mary's veil, but also like the Bionic Woman's blonde locks, which we didn't have.”
As you might guess, she gets more serious. She narrates how she was instructed to hold the cup for communion and other trappings of become an adult Catholic. Much of what is at stake is what you do with your hands. I was intrigued. I don’t know that Quakers ever think about their hands. When you are sitting in silence in worship, hands are pretty irrelevant! But I was ready to learn.
Clark soon offered a closer look at hands. She challenges us, “Praying hands are everywhere. In yoga classes and in most religions…Think of all those pleading hands in centuries-old paintings and statues and the way we all still kneel after Communion, heads down and hands clasped, reckoning with our faulty selves.” I realized I had observed much of what she is talking about, but I never paid attention.
Clark comes to the heart of the essay with an experience I can never match. She informs us, “In Italian, the word pregare means to pray, but also ‘to beg.’ The Italians — I'm married to one, so I know — like to put their hands in the praying position, move them back and forth, and say, ti prego or, ‘I beg you’ when they want you to do something, or better, when with a shrewd look in their eye they are trying to explain something and want you to believe it. As if to say: ‘Now please, won't you believe me?’” I can only contrast this to the typical Quaker posture of the hands resting in the lap of the one who typically has her head slightly bowed, eyes closed waiting for the presence of God to become present. If this Quaker is begging, it is not evident.
Finally, I read the small paragraph that was the big payoff for engaging this wonderful essay. Clark says, “Yes, praying hands are begging hands, they are conciliatory. And they are nonviolent because they prove your inability to fight back. They prove your vulnerability. I find that beautiful — and useful. Maybe because putting your hands together doesn't require much, not a sinless soul or even a mustard seed of faith.” Let’s quickly unpack this passage.
Praying hands are conciliatory. They are peace-makers, which I find to be insightful. It is easy to imagine a hand with a gun and the finger on the trigger. Unfortunately, that is a normal image in our culture. Maybe spiritual folks can begin to offer this alternative image of praying hands. Let’s reconcile differences, rather than resorting to violence and settling these differences in ways that often lead to retaliation.
Indeed, praying hands indicate our vulnerability. But vulnerability is a hallmark of love and reconciliation. Violence wants no part of vulnerability. Violence wishes for the end of the other, rather than healing for both of us---the other and myself. Any one of us can combat violence and the hands that perpetuate violence. Every one of us can put our hands together. It does not require much. As Clark tells us, we don’t have to be sinless. It may take a little courage.
But if we can find one or two others---or even a community---it will be easier to pray. To pray is to hope. To hope is to act confidently that ultimately and finally violence will not win the day. Surely, prayer and love are connected. And if we pray, we connect with the energy of love that is at the heart of the universe. Siding with love through prayer aligns us with the evolutionary purpose of life and the universe.
Put your hands together and pray.
Comments
Post a Comment