As a child, I was always fascinated by ceremonies and rituals. I remember wondering what it would be like to go up to the front of the church and receive communion. To be honest, I remember the feeling more than anything else. At the time, I would have struggled to name that feeling, but today I would call it reverence. Weddings and funerals were similar. Taking time to honour people, make commitments, share promises, and remember lives are experiences that stay with us. Other rituals during my formative years were less formal but equally meaningful. Every September long weekend, we would travel to Jasper with family friends, where we would tent, sit around the fire, and climb big spruce trees. At New Year's parties, we would melt lead, pour it quickly into water, and then try to interpret what the resulting shape might mean for the coming year. There was the annual September clothes shopping trip with my aunt and cousin to find the perfect outfit for school. And then there was making tea with my grandmother, which was always a 30-minute ritual!
I looked forward to these experiences because they were special, and as we continued to repeat them, they grew in meaning. Looking back, I realize that what made them special wasn't necessarily what we were doing, but the time, attention, and care we brought to them. These rituals marked the passing of time and the changes in our lives. They created opportunities to reconnect with loved ones, friends, and God. And when I think about each one of them, I associate them with love. They were moments when people could be open, authentic, vulnerable, and grounded.
I've been wondering lately whether we have lost some of our appreciation for rituals. We live in a world where we are constantly encouraged to be productive, to move quickly, and to fill every available moment. Even our spiritual lives can become something we try to fit into an already busy schedule. Yet rituals invite us to do something quite different. They invite us to slow down, pay attention, and recognize that something meaningful is happening. There is a difference between doing something out of habit and engaging in a ritual. We might drink tea every morning without giving it much thought. But when we intentionally take time to prepare the tea, savour its warmth, and be present with ourselves or another person, something changes. The ordinary becomes an opportunity to experience the sacred. And perhaps this is one of the gifts of ritual. It doesn't necessarily change what we are doing, but it can change how we experience it.
Throughout the Christian tradition, rituals have helped people encounter God in ways that words alone cannot express. We light candles, share bread and wine, pray, sing, and sit in silence. These actions connect us with generations of people who have sought meaning, comfort, hope, and belonging. They remind us that faith isn't simply something we believe or understand intellectually. It is something we experience with our whole being. But rituals don't have to take place in a church, nor do they have to be complicated. Walking in nature, creating art, listening to music, or simply sitting quietly can become spiritual practices when we approach them with intention and openness. Beginning November 23, we are offering a four-week series called Brewing Ritual, where we will explore different ways of engaging in spiritual practices. Through praying in colour, movement, sound meditation, and opportunities to explore practices such as walking a labyrinth, we will discover how ordinary activities can create space for reflection, connection, and an awareness of God's presence. Each evening will offer an introduction to a spiritual practice, time to experience it, and an opportunity to reflect together. Rituals make ordinary experiences sacred through love, attention, and the people who shared them with me.
I wonder what rituals have shaped your life? Which ones have you carried forward, and which ones have you left behind? And what might happen if we intentionally made a little more room for ritual in our lives today? Maybe the sacred isn't something we need to search for. Maybe it is something we need to make time to notice. Blessings Rev. Karen