You set the earth on its foundations, so that it shall never be shaken. (Psalm 104:5, NRSV)
I think I mentioned in a previous post that my family gave me a turntable for Christmas and I’ve been enjoying it immensely. One reason is the fun of exploring the world of record stores and finding valuable treasures. The records I had as a teenager are long gone so I’ve been slowly buying both new albums and those albums I loved as a kid (with some exceptions…I don’t think I’ll be buying any Air Supply records).
It’s not uncommon to hear audiophiles say how much better vinyl sounds than digital music. I confess to not having enough of a trained ear to say definitively that that’s the case. What has surprised me is not that my sense of hearing has enjoyed records (though I certainly have), but that my sense of touch has been sparked, too. There’s something deeply satisfying about taking a record out of the sleeve, holding it in my hands, giving it a quick brush and placing it gently on the turntable as I eye the needle and place it on the spinning disc. It’s become a ritual.
Several years ago, I went to a friend’s ordination in the Presbyterian Church and the preacher said something that has always stuck with me: “When your feet first hit the floor in the morning, be awakened to God’s presence.” Nearly every morning since then, I have been reminded of that encouragement when my feet literally hit the floor. Ritual.
In a world that seems to border on chaos, we need daily routines that are tinged with the holy to remind us that the foundations of the world were created by God. That hasn’t changed. These brief but regular rituals center us and remind us of God’s faithfulness.
What might be a ritual that you can create during this season of Lent? Something that awakens your senses? It doesn’t have to be elaborate. But I believe it can help ground you so you can face a world that spins round and round. Perhaps that ritual can help you not spin out of control. Maybe it can even help you make a little music.