If all things can be said to be symbols pointing beyond themselves, this can be said with even more reason about religious worship and public prayer.
Although I will refer to Christian worship as the main example in this section, the same principles apply to worship in all religions. Worship consists of external actions and words that express inner realities that go beyond human expression. Here, most of all, we have to go beyond symbols if we want to do justice to the situation.
Christians believe that sacraments, such as baptism, the eucharist, confession and matrimony, are visible signs that signify God's grace and make that grace present. The rites of liturgical worship are external actions that somehow express our communication with the infinite.
The central ritual for Christians is the re-enactment of the sacred meal which Jesus Christ instituted for his followers.
As Jesus was eating with his apostles, he took bread, blessed it, broke it and gave it to his disciples saying: "This is my Body."
The he took a cup with wine, and after speaking a prayer of thanks, gave it to his disciples saying: "Drink of it all of you, for this is my Blood of the new covenant, which will be poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins."
Then he said to them: "Keep doing this in memory of me".
Matthew 26,26-29; Mark 14,22-25; Luke 22,17-19; 1 Corinthians 11,23-26
Christians have many names for their common meal in memory of Jesus: the Last Supper, Communion Service, Holy Mass, the Eucharist. They believe that by re-enacting this meal, they bring Jesus into their midst, and they make Jesus' sacrifice of love their own sacrifice. The "body" and "blood" of Jesus, which are present through the bread and the wine, symbolise Jesus' sacrifice on behalf of humankind.
In sacrifice human beings are somehow in touch with the roots of existence. A verse from the Rigveda may put us in the right frame of mind.
''I ask you about the furthest limit of Earth:
where, I ask is the
centre of the world?
I ask you about the Stallion's prolific seed.
I
ask you about high heaven where abides the Word?
This altar is the furthest limit of the earth!
This sacrifice of
ours is the world's centre!
The Soma (sacrificial wine) is the Stallions's
prolific seed!
Our prayer is the highest heaven where abides the Word!"
Rigveda I, 164, 34-35.
The poet speaks about the four greatest mysteries of our human existence:
The poet replies that the answer to these questions is somehow contained in the sacrifice he is taking part in. Or, rather, he feels that, through the sacrifice, he is in living contact with these great mysteries that, strictly speaking, lie outside our scope. The altar in some way or other reaches the furthest limits of the universe. For a short while "this sacrifice of ours" becomes the centre of the world. The sacrificial wine we drink (the Soma) contains the indestructible power of life. Our prayer, however small it may be, makes us speak to God himself.
These thoughts of a pious Hindu apply equally well to Jesus' eucharistic sacrifice. Although the actions and the words may be simple in themselves, they transport us into the midst of unspeakable realities. When we attend Communion Service/Holy Mass we should become conscious of the unseen dimensions: of the overpowering greatness of God who is somehow present, of the almost infinite space of the universe surrounding us, of the amazing dynamism of life and mind. A sense of mystery should pervade us.
Spiritual leaders remind us that external acts of worship should be accompanied by silence. This should not only be understood as requiring the insertion of moments when no prayers are said aloud. Rather, we have to adopt an attitude of inner silence, an emptiness that is open to receive rather than a self-appointed fullness anxious to give. It is with interior silence that we should listen to the Word, observe the sacred rites and respond to manifestations of the community. Our silence will not be the silence of a passive spectator, but the silence of openness to God.
In religious ritual, and in every act of worship, our participation should take place on a level deeper than words.
We are not achieving our purpose simply by understanding what is happening, by grasping it mentally. Although our intellect rules our behaviour, it has no claim to a monopoly. The whole of us must take part: our heart, our emotions, our body, the unspeakable aspirations and frustrations we feel deeply inside. We express our whole selves by our gestures and postures. When we kneel down in adoration or when we receive the sacred bread and wine in communion, something happens to our whole being.
Of course, in all worship our attention should focus on Ultimate Reality. It is God whom we come face to face with.
Returning to the example of the Last Supper, we should be aware that it is Jesus Christ himself, the revelation of God's Love, whom we meet in the ritual. He speaks to us through the word of the readings. He expresses his concern and affection through the love that radiates from his community. By offering us his body and blood he invites us to join in his supreme sacrifice. Christ, the image of the invisible God, is at the root of the mystery of our existence, and in the Eucharist it is Christ who takes us by the hand to help us face the awesome implications of our being. When we reduce our hearts to inner silence it is Christ we are waiting for. He is word, bread and love; way, life and truth.
The measure of success in any act of worship will be the extent to which we succeed in going beyond the religious symbolism with body and soul. The whole purpose of ritual and liturgy is to transport us beyond ourselves, to forge a bridge between our limited human lives and the infinite world that is God's. Until, ultimately, God himself/herself takes over in us.
Text from: JOHN WIJNGAARDS, Come and See, Bangalore 1983.
