When I Needed True Manna
Taking the forgiveness with it
This is the bread which came down from heaven — as your fathers ate the manna, and are dead. He who eats this bread will live forever.” John 8:56
Whoever designed the architecture of my brother’s church made it for meditation.
Arched and laminated beams, sunlight infused with stained glass, and several anterooms worked together to create the lofty, glowing hush of an ancient cathedral. In the middle of a bustling U.S. capital.
Yet all was modern in the “cathedral”, down to bleached wood, brushed stainless trim and cobalt windowpanes. As soon as I sat on the gray pew cushion, I felt contentment and relaxation.
Worshipers entered, silent in their reverence, and dispersed themselves throughout the huge sanctuary, bowing heads with hands folded briefly, prayerful in attitude. It was a place not to whisper, but to lipread only necessary communications.
My brother and his family had invited me and sat next to me, near the front. They made their prayerful attitude ritual and there we all sat, waiting, surrounded with soundless zephyrs from noiseless ventilation near the ceilings, resting, collecting ourselves, letting everything else go.
