Prayers of the capital

Irish Church. I light a candle, give the flame a good spot and sit down. Quietly, I don’t want to disturb.

Moved, that’s what I am. By this sacred space that I can relate to wherever I am in the world. And by the number of people coming in to make a prayer. Or maybe to express their gratitude. Or say sorry. Or even confess something. I pray for those who come for the latter as I think asking for forgiveness is unnecessary. Humanity is okay. 

A woman on her knees. Head down. It seems to take forever. The longest worship I have ever seen. It feels like a confession though. As if she is about to give up. I can almost feel her sadness and despair. Her negative energy towards her own deeds. For some reason I believe they were well intended.

Another woman, older, with click clack shoes. Greeting her known friends before she kneels and sits down. Is that a wig? Hmm. No! It’s beautiful, perfect for her.

A woman dressed in black, walking in with her Starbucks coffee and wrapped sandwich. I notice my judgements. Takes out her rosary and starts working her way through the beads. My judgements evaporate. She stands up, touches the altar, greets her friends too, kneels and leaves. With her Starbucks coffee and wrapped sandwich. 

A young man, younger than me. Kneels and sits. Takes his headphones off and his smartphone out. No messages? Puts it back in the pocket of his coat. Leans back when someone wants to pass. Why is he here? 

An older man. He was in before I got here. I can hear him breathing throughout my whole stay. I am getting curious and want to see where this noise is coming from. I turn my head to the side. He is asleep. Does he live on the streets of Dublin? Will he be woken up at some point?

The gathering of all sorts of people. The sound of generous coins in the offering box. The warmth of the candles and winter coats around me. The cold outside is fine to me when I can be in here, wrapped in the warm blanket of these people. The taste of silence. And the belief in faith. The belief that it’s good and helpful to be here and pray. Whatever prayer you have. I believe it’s a good thing. Here, right now, hidden in the middle of the bustling capital of Ireland.

Advertisements

One thought on “Prayers of the capital

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s