for this we pray....

Twenty something years ago, one of my dearest friends and I combined our spiritual traditions, and starting with the Penitential Rite from my religion, and praying an Al Cheit from hers, we created our own fall ritual.

Rising with the sun and packing up our journals, we would head out Hwy 22 to the Reservoir, a sacred place for both of us where we felt the majesty of God all around us in the splendor and beauty of nature. We spent the full day in silent reflection and writing, the only words we spoke out loud being lines from the prayers and petitions we recited together as we walked the paths, sat on the earth, turned our faces heavenward and let ourselves soak up the reconnection and oneness with ourselves, each other and God.

I was thinking about those times a lot this week. Missing them. Missing her. And thinking about how, despite our best intentions otherwise, the practice fell away into our fondly revisited bank of “remember when” in the wake of moves and miles apart and time zones.

So my phone rings at 5:30 am central.

“Are you up?” a voice asks.
“Yes” I say, (even though I wasn’t) stalling for time and trying to figure out who’s calling me at this time of the morning.
“Go to your computer – I sent you a picture.”
“What are you doing up and why are you sending me pictures?” I say, realizing it’s my friend and it’s 3:30 am her time.
“Just go check your email.” she says.

So I do. And it’s a picture of the Reservoir: 

And then she tells me that she’d been thinking about our fall ritual a lot this week and how much she missed it, and that if we both looked at the same picture of the same place at the same time, it would be like we were there together and we could pray our prayers as the sun rose.

And so we did. Just like old times.

Starting with mine:

I confess to almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned through my own fault in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do; and I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin, all the angels and saints, and you, my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the Lord our God. May almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us our sins, and bring us to everlasting life. Amen. (Penitential Rite)

Adding hers:

We violate that which is Eternal when we violate ourselves: for our failures of truth, for acting out of fear, for paralyzing ourselves with our thoughts, for perpetuating vindictiveness by not forgiving, and for sustaining guilt.

We evade that which is Eternal when we evade ourselves: for those times I turned a deaf ear on the cries of children, and for those times I turned a deaf ear to the small child within me, for those times I believed I was alone, and for those times I believed my temporary difficulties were permanent.

We deny that which is Eternal when we deny our own depths: for the misdeeds we have committed with our bodies and our souls, for not being present in the moment, and instead being caught up in worry and fear, for not allowing ourselves to rest and to play, for focusing only on our shortcomings and not on our strengths and beauty.

We betray that which is Eternal when we betray ourselves: for the blessings I lost by not trusting myself and others, for the pleasures I failed to enjoy, the opportunities I failed to grasp, for withholding love and support, for being judgmental of myself, for doubting my ability to be loved and receive love from others.

By these namings, I acknowledge my errors, confront them, accept them, and commit myself to avoiding them in the year ahead. By these namings, I let go of fear, regret, bitterness and resentment, and in recalling this pain, I take responsibility for it, heal it, and commit to replacing it with joy in the coming year.

And I seek atonement.

And ending with ours:

Amen.