If you arrive to UPSEM's campus early enough, you'll see a man, a neighbor of ours, practicing Chinese martial arts on the front steps of the library. On the few days that I make it to the library before it opens, I enjoy sitting outside and reading or walking around the quad. During this time, I have enjoyed watching our neighbor engage in his practice.
On a brisk morning in September, as I was sitting on a bench reading, I observed our neighbor in his practice. Then, I witnessed a group of 8-10 young men walking across UPSEM's campus, directly across from our neighbor. When the young men were exactly in front of him (but across the quad), they put their backpacks on the ground, counted to 3, and then all bowed with praying hands towards our neighbor. I was not sure what happened and our neighbor saw that I was curious. He explained to me that he calls these young men "his boys." Once a week this group of young men has a Bible study and then walks to school together via UPSEM's campus quad. Since the young men and our neighbor see each other weekly, they have formed a relationship with each other. Our neighbor taught the young men about the practice of Chinese martial arts and invited them to engage with him in a ritual of bowing to each other. Our neighbor and the young men are strangers; they encounter each other on the seminary campus, they do not know much of anything about the other, the young men attend a Christian school nearby, our neighbor engages in his practice daily, presumably they too are neighbors but they only see each other briefly, once per week. Yet they are in relationship with each other and with their practices, their routines, their spiritual rituals. There is a profound connection.
I don't know about you, but I love a routine! Typically, I thrive with schedules and routines. I have routines that I know help me sleep better, feel more alive, and be more connected to those I love. But sometimes, I choose not to engage those routines. Sometimes I feel too tired or too busy to engage in my routines, the very practices that help me feel most connected to myself, to others, and to God. It's easy for me to forget the power of routine, especially when it comes to my spirituality. I study or am in class 8+ hours per weekday and a few hours per day on the weekends. I attend chapel on campus each Wednesday. I do my best to attend church virtually or in-person on Sundays (last week I went to a new church for a jazz service, which was very neat!). Sometimes I am so caught up in sticking to my routine or upset about not enacting it that I do not make space and time room for spiritual practices and rituals.
The story of our neighbor and the young men reminds me of the importance of my connectedness to others, my being in relationship with God, and my spiritual growth and formation. Perhaps this story still strikes me because I am in the midst of studying Deuteronomy, which includes law codes and also includes instructions for how to listen and how to love. Or perhaps it is because when we studied Leviticus a few weeks ago, I learned about the opportunity for Christianity to be in an interreligious dialogue with Judaism about the book of Leviticus, which Christians have often marginalized and misused. Likely, the story still strikes me because of a mix all of these reasons.
As I start the week (a week that will be busier than the last but not as busy as the following!), I plan to refocus on the power of routines or rituals, the importance of spiritual engagement, and the ways that God calls me to be in relationship with others and with God. God is a God of abundant grace. As I continue to study the Old Testament, history of Christianity, and women in the Bible, I hold my church, family, friends, neighbors, and strangers closely and in my prayers.
Peace be with each of you.
Caitlin
UPSEM's campus (looking towards where the group of young men bowed in praying hands and I was standing right in front of the library when I took this photo)
September 16, 2022
