For today’s “Faith Fridays” post, I attribute inspiration to a reflection I read on the blog of memoirist Heather King over at Shirt of Flame titled, “Why I Kneel.”
To be honest, I hadn’t thought too deeply about my own need to kneel until I read Heather’s post. Funny how we writers inspire one another in that way, bringing to the fore that which had been buried or at least set aside. I found the post moving and the conversation that ensued in the aftermath interesting. People feel strongly about whether to kneel in worship and what exactly it signifies.
What I’ve known instinctively for some time now is that I was made to kneel. There is something within me that knows when the time is right for this stance. Certain times and situations beg that I surrender, let go of my upright stance and make way for something greater than my own power, to acknowledge that I am the created, and God is the Creator.
Heather says this about kneeling:
“The very fact that we’re praying means we’re already receiving what our hearts long for. To open ourselves to reality. To move away from isolation and toward communion. To die to self-reliance and come alive in wonder and mystery. Acknowledging our vulnerability, we’re in solidarity with every other sick, suffering, broken person in the world. With our heads bowed, our ears are closer to our hearts. On our knees, we’re the same height as children.”
Wow. That just struck me as being so vividly what’s on my own heart. I especially like the last two lines, about our ears being closer to our hearts, and being the same height as children.
I think of how many times I have bent down to listen more carefully to what my children have to say, to meet them on their level. How many times has God done this for me, His beloved? How many zillions of times has God come down to my level to meet me where I am at?
The more enamored with God I become, the more I desire to surrender and make way for a will other than my own, the more I am inclined to kneel when the time is appropriate.
It can happen very spontaneously, like the time I went to visit my friend dying of cancer. I hadn’t seen her in two weeks, and in that time, things had changed drastically. The sight of her rapidly decomposing body literally brought me to my knees. Seeing her lying on the bed barely breathing, I found it impossible to stay standing. I literally dropped to my knees right then and there, in front of a few others who had come to say goodbye. I was powerless over the sight of my friend and I submitted, through my body, to what was happening. It was a posture of shock, sadness, surrender, love.
Sometimes, standing proves impossible. The knees buckle, and one is as low as one can be.
Though not all may agree, our diocese encourages we give a short bow before receiving the Eucharist, and since incorporating this into my reception of the Lord at Mass, I have felt the power of the life-giving bread more acutely. I bow because I desire it. It feels natural and right in that circumstance. It has helped me be more mindful of what I am doing and why.
We speak through our words, but we speak through our bodies, too. My sense is that we were made to kneel, and when it is done out of eager obedience, in glad surrender, it can be a posture of love.
Just as I’ve bent my knees to listen better to my children, so I desire to bend my knees to listen better to my God.
Q4U: How does body posture affect/enhance the way you worship?
Valerie says
“Now,you don’t have to kneel, you know.” the Campus Ministry director informed me at the mass that closed the faculty retreat my first year teaching at St. Patrick-St. Vincent High School. It didn’t occur to me to respond, “Yes, I know…but can I?” Because I sometimes wanted to. But I didn’t. Not even in the 9 months of consistently attending mass before making my first communion in 2001. Later on, Father Al, who baptized me at UC Berkeley’s Newman Hall said that of course I could have been kneeling all along if that’s what I was moved to do. And of course, I still am moved to do so…in a way, I’m glad I waited.
Shannon O'Donnell says
Wow. “With our heads bowed, our ears are closer to our hearts. On our knees, we’re the same height as children.” That says it all, doesn’t it? Thank you for this beautiful post, Roxane. Now I look forward to this evening, when I will most definitely kneel. 🙂
Clara says
My mom kneeled down to pray every single night of her life. We were fascinated as children to watch her lips move in silence as she whispered to God in Prayer. Needless to say, I find myself standing upright in prayer. It’s time to give reference to God by kneeling down to him!
Thanks for the post.
Clara.
Clara says
My mom kneeled down to pray every single night of her life. We were fascinated as children to watch her lips move in silence as she whispered to God in Prayer. Needless to say, I find myself standing upright in prayer. It’s time to give reference to God by kneeling down to him!
Thanks for the post.
Clara.
Roxane B. Salonen says
Val, it was such a blessing to receive your comment shortly after my posting when up last night. Your thoughts prove the point that this is a subject that evokes a lot of feelings. Thanks so much for sharing about your experience. I can just sense the relief you felt when Father Al said it was okay to kneel. It’s also neat that you are able to appreciate having waited; that you see the value in that. We don’t always see the value in the blessed waiting but it can be helpful to us, even when we don’t feel that.
Shannon, oh, great to see you sweet friend! Thanks for your thoughts.
And yours as well, Clara. I think it’s so cool what you remember of your mother bowing down in prayer before God, her lips moving in silence. What an impression that made on your young heart!
Jennifer Shirk says
Wow. “Acknowledging our vulnerability, we’re in solidarity with every other sick, suffering, broken person in the world. With our heads bowed, our ears are closer to our hearts. On our knees, we’re the same height as children.”
That is so beautiful! And it rings so true.
kim says
Roxane,
Some how I missed this beautiful and touching post. Words escape me on how to share the effect this piece has on my heart. Thanks.