We zigged for a lot of cathedrals. By the time we were in Durham (Cathedral #7) I was pretty sure I never wanted to see another one. But it was cloudy and drizzly that day so I meandered rather aimlessly around a cathedral once more. I lit a candle. Looked up at arches and the vaulted ceiling a lot.
For awhile the organist was practicing--I paid some small attention to that. Watched little clots of people walking purposefully from one place to another. Stood before the altar rail. There was a sign that asked visitors not to go any farther.
All the while I'm mostly thinking, What's the big deal? Then I looked down.
There were grooves in the stones in front of the rail. Suddenly I got that kind of feeling that comes with goose bumps and catches your breath. It hit me that people's knees had made those grooves in the stones. How many knees over how many years does it take to make deep grooves in stone? Without thinking I sank down, put my knees in those groves.
I had 'lost' God 3 or so years before--and had been rather earnestly seeking a reasonable substitute ever since. It didn't seem to me that I was finding God in that moment. What was palpable was a sense of being in the presence of tides and tides of people who were was also seekers--seekers and finders, pilgrims and wanderers.
God, it was a rich experience. And a significant stepping (kneeling) stone in my own 'pilgrimage.'
I wasn't able to look up and get any clues about God, but looking down at those grooved stones, letting my knees rest in those hollowed-out marks, I entered Presence. Didn't understand it at all--but that didn't keep me from experiencing it.
Seeing those knee prints was like seeing signs of a trail after being lost, deeply lost, in a forest for a long time. Though I had been seeking Presence in a meandering way for 3 years, it's not accurate to say I found it. But it is accurate to say I entered it.
In the vocabulary of yesterday's prayer those knee prints gave me confidence--not a lot, but enough for doors to open. Generations and generations had been seeking and finding for centuries. For a powerful moment I came to trust that the same was possible for me.
"In cities that have outgrown their promise, people are becoming pilgrims again, if not to this place, then to the recreation of it in their own spirits."
That sign? The sign that said not to go any farther--on a certain level, I completely ignored it. Those kneeling stones became stepping stones, and I'm pretty sure that's all we ever need.
This blog is about paying attention to knee prints. Learning to trust that the grooves we and others make in bringing ourselves over and over again into the possibility of presence, keep us, all of us, right there, right here in the possibility of Presence.
