Sacred Repetition

The period between leaving Evangelicalism and finding the Liturgical tradition was when I felt most estranged from the practice of spirituality. During that time, I was traveling and would often visit historical church buildings along my way. I didn’t know how to connect with the long aisles and impressive alters, the painted murals and intricate stained glass. The beauty and ceremony of the sanctuaries was overwhelming. I wanted to honor it but didn’t know how I was supposed to interact.

I developed a habit of walking around the room, soaking in all the details. Then I would end standing before the alter and repeat, “Lord, have mercy” several times. That simple phrase encompassed my sorrow and reverence and was all the religion I could muster at that point.

Years later I learned there was a religious history of reverent repetition. In Orthodox Christianity it’s called the Jesus prayer, and it’s as old as the apostles. It goes, “Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Some practices adapt it to say, “Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us.”

The prayer is central to Orthodox spiritual life and serves two purposes. The first is to say it in everyday life –  as you wait at the doctor’s office, as you make dinner, as you start an important conversation. It is quick and simple, meant to be woven into the background static of life and fulfill the Apostle Paul’s command to, “pray without ceasing”. Its second purpose is as a meditative key. During times of dedicated silence, it can be repeated over and over as a constant mantra which drowns out all other thoughts.

As a spiritual practice, the Jesus Prayer harnesses the art of sacred repetition to clear the mind and focus the soul on a single thought. In my quest to treat space as sacred on this trip, I’m adopting sacred practices. The first is repetition. When I am confronted with a breathtaking view or a wild animal on my many hikes across the U.S. I whisper, “Sacred and worth protecting.”

Just like mighty cathedrals, when I see vast mountain ranges I am so often filled with sorrow and reverence. The glaciers in Glacier National Park are melting. The water levels of the Great Salt Lake are steadily lowering. Ancient migration patterns are being disrupted, all because we have failed to treat our world as sacred and worth protecting.

Repetition becomes habit, and a habit of treating our space as sacred is a very good one to develop.

Sacred and worth protecting.

Sacred and worth protecting.

Sacred and worth protecting.

Sacred and worth protecting.

Sacred and worth protecting.

Sacred and worth protecting.

Sacred and worth protecting.

Sacred and worth protecting.