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Some of us talk with our hands constantly. Our families, friends and co-workers understand us on a holistic level, not just listening to our words but getting the meaning from the actions of our hands. In fact, it is often hands that tell the truth for a dyslexic person like me. My family knows better than to listen to me when I say "turn left." They look at my hands and see that I’m pointing right, the direction I really want to convey.

And my hands convey much more than directions. Our hands are inextricably linked to many emotions. We invite or beckon, repel or reject, hide or reveal, console and protect and embrace with our hands. They are the tangible evidence of the body, mind and spirit connection. While some of us may not identify with prayer in its traditional sense in our culture, we have experienced the healing touch from a loved one’s hand, the solidarity and community of a large circle of people holding hands, feeling the energy course among the group, or perhaps those of us with Catholic backgrounds have made the sign of the cross almost unconsciously when we have been delivered from a narrow escape, an accident, a close call in our life.

There are also some of us for whom prayer is strictly a head trip, a conscious thought process, very rational, linear and verbal, whether silent or spoken aloud. While mental prayer may seem the product of modern, rational times, this approach has roots going back centuries into the monastic traditions in both Christianity and Buddhism. The monastics viewed the body as an enemy to be conquered. Therefore, the focus on breathing, looking at a candle flame, repeating mantras and other techniques designed to still the body in an effort to quiet the ‘monkey mind.’ There was an assumption that the mind is superior, the body expendable. Think of the enlightened ones sitting under a tree for months, eating little, moving little, physically doing little as their souls expand.

But the practice of embodied prayer has also remained strong across all cultures on the planet. While many of us may have stepped away from this way of praying, perhaps it is time to consider the benefits of embodied prayer, a more holistic approach that values and builds on the inherent connection of body, mind and spirit. Embodied prayer is a place where prayer is actively happening, not just an intellectual construct.

Jon Sweeney, author of Praying with Our Hands, explains "The problem is that our vision of prayer is too narrow. We are focusing only on the words that prayed from our minds and forgetting about the life that prays them--our heart (will) and bodies (actions). We need to realize that God is in us and is part of us. We need to stop talking to God as if we were not intimately one. Embodied prayer is spiritual practice in which you are able to see your will and actions intermingled with the Divine, engaged together with the world. When you practice embodied prayer, the very motions of your body create meaning for your words like sound creates meaning in poetry."

This urge to embody prayer plays out with many variations across cultures. The human hand has psychological and symbolic meanings that are surprisingly constant across cultures, according to William Bryant Logan in his book, Dirt.

Little finger--child, weak member who must be protected

Second finger--waits, wears the ring

Middle finger--standing tall, representing the penis

Index finger--one that makes the point, turns the pages and is raised in teaching

Thumb--strength, ability, worth half a hand in French Salic law

Palm--exposed means peace and concealed in a fist means conflict, war

There is great power in this simple gesture and the classic praying hands of Christianity. It is a way of creating wholeness in ourselves. Long ago the ancient Romans considered the duality of our two hands, with the right hand as dextra, therefore dexterous and the left hand as sinistra, or sinister. My apologies to the left handed folks here this morning. Our modern view of the left hand is more enlightened. The Romans sensed a deep recognition of the light and shadow in us all as well as the other classic dualities of male/female, good/evil, right/wrong, pure/impure, beautiful/ugly and so on. By bringing the hands together in prayer, we unify the bipolarity of the unconscious and conscious, light and darkness, left and right brains. We kindle a kind of life energy that makes us whole and vibrant. Sometimes this energy is described in yoga or Chinese chi. Indeed, we are creating wholeness in our lives by bringing our hands together. The Buddhist tradition created a series of mudras, also ways of bringing hands together. Each mudra has different energy flow and purpose. We tried out the basic cosmic mudra during our meditation today. Another embodied prayer practiced widely by Buddhists is the gassho or bow. While some from Western cultures feel uncomfortable with the idea of bowing to a god or bowing to an authority, this action feels different if it is viewed as an extension of the Namaste idea. It goes beyond the acknowledgement of divinity in ourselves and others to physically expressing a deep honoring of that divine spark, the great mystery. It is not so much a bowing down as it is a recognition of the humility, the letting go of the ego in the face of the reality of the universe. Let’s try a gassho together.

Of course, Buddhists are also famous for their prayer wheels which are turned constantly as a form of embodied prayer. I do not have a prayer wheel to show you today but I do have a Buddhist mala, a set of prayer beads with 108 beads. Hindus also utilize malas.

Perhaps a more familiar form of praying that uses the hands is the Roman Catholic rosary. The rosary brings special memories for me because my great grandmother would say the rosary every night after dinner and during mass on Sunday. I never understood this obscure ritual as a child. Indeed, I hated doing the rosary because I felt it was rote and seemed so pointless. Now with the wisdom of age, I understand my great grandmother’s embodied prayer practice much better. I now realize that she was meditating in her own way, using the motion of her hands and the repetition of the words to move her beyond everyday thoughts and into the realm of spirit. The rosary is a powerful practice for many Catholics involving the repetition of Hail Marys, Glory Bes and Our Fathers along side contemplation of the joyful, sorrowful and glorious mysteries of Catholicism.

Muslims also use prayer beads with 99 or 33 beads to pray the many names of Allah. Sufis even use a special set of prayer beads with one thousand beads to be used in group recitation, sitting in a circle saying Allah, Allah, Allah one thousand times. I have done this powerful practice which takes about 20 minutes to complete, leaving you breathless and filled with Allah. And Orthodox Christian monks tie strings of 100 knots with each knot having its own symbolism. So, there’s something going on here. Each of these major world religions has some sort of prayer bead system to connect body, mind and spirit. The movement of the hands, whether tying knots or working around the rosary, symbolizes weaving our prayers into the fabric of the divine.

And so, I ask myself, what would it look like and feel like if I engaged in a prayer bead practice as a Unitarian Universalist? I will readily admit that I’ve tried out the beads and prayers of other faiths. That’s why you see my small collection of prayer beads today. But I was finding that I was force fitting my own style of prayer into a set of beads that belonged to another tradition in each case. It didn’t feel right to me. It wasn’t the connection in embodied prayer that I longed for. These practices didn’t stick.

Then I was exposed to some new thinking about prayer and the use of prayer beads that actually made sense to me. Rev. Erik Walker Wikstrom, the pastor at First Universalist Church in Yarmouth, Maine has published a wonderful new book called Simply Pray. Rev. Wikstrom first addresses the elements important in prayer, importantly not viewing prayer as supplication or wish-list but deeply engaging in one’s spiritual life. Here’s a Cliff Notes version of his thoughts on the elements of prayer and their significance. He suggests working with the four themes of Naming, Knowing, Listening and Loving in your prayer practice. Naming involves naming what you hold sacred. For some, this will mean names of gods and/or goddesses. But it could also be a list of things in your life that you hold most sacred—your health, your relationships, your children, the beauty and wonder of the cosmos. Knowing invites us to take stock of our life as it is right now with special attention to needs of reconciliation and atonement. None of us are perfect. We all miss the mark from time to time. We need to acknowledge our failings so we can repair ourselves. Listening simply means to listen to that still, small voice within, the voice of knowing that guides us. It is being still and practicing the deepest kind of listening so that we can learn and move on with the challenges of our lives. Loving gives us the chance to lift up the names of those who are in pain and need. This brings them to our attention so we can grow in compassion. It is not a prayer for others per se but a prayer for ourselves, that we may remember those in need and act accordingly.

How does this work with the bead part? Let me just show you my prayer beads, a set that I made myself by a trip to a local bead shop where the kind proprietor even helped me with some of the technical aspects of stringing and knotting. The largest bead is the Centering bead. It is a welcome, come-on-in and set a while bead. I visualize a serene place in nature to ground myself. The next four beads are the Entering In beads. For me, this means invoking the four directions and four elements because part of my spirituality involves earth-centered traditions. But, other people could recite the four Bodhisattva vows or any self created prayers that allow one to ease into prayer mode. The first medium size bead is for the Naming prayers, followed by five smaller beads where I pause to breathe deeply and mindfully five times in a row before moving on to the next medium bead which is for the Knowing prayers. The same breath space follows and on to the Listening bead, more breath beads and then the Loving bead. The final four are the Returning beads, closing things out for that prayer session. In my case, I thank the four directions and the four elements of earth, air, fire and water. So, what is the outcome? Does this stuff work? Well, I’m going to admit to you that I am still a prayer bead beginner. I am still building up my practice. In fact, like other spiritual practices, it is necessary to build up familiarity, comfort and ease with the practice so it triggers a sense of calm, a sense of connectedness and a window to the still, small voice within. Just like a new student taking piano lessons, you need to work at it a while before the tunes even start to sound good, let alone flow out of your fingertips in melodic rapture. So, if you decide to try this out for yourself, be gentle with yourself. It will take some time but like all spiritual practices, it will get you somewhere if you really give it the old college try. If you are in a regular habit of expressing gratitude, looking at your shadow side, listening for guidance and getting in touch with compassion, these practices will be in place when you really need them during a crisis in your life.

Perhaps it would be easier if we were Muslims who embody their prayers five times daily facing Mecca, the holy city of Islam. The practice is called salat, meaning inner sanctum or prayful heart. It is meant to be practiced regardless of location with the belief that the body is the true mosque when we use it as a place for daily honor of god. The different stages whether standing, bowing, prostrating or kneeling all use the hands to reinforce the worship.

I studied Muslim salat as part of my Sufism classes at Starr King. At first, I was intimidated by trying to keep the various movements and the Arabic prayers straight in my mind. But, I learned enough over the weeks to appreciate that this powerful prayer practice could be transformative. It stops you in your tracks five times a day and mindfully focuses your attention on spiritual matters. While I do not foresee myself embracing this style of prayer, I have learned to deeply respect it.

A different form of embodied worship for Jews involves the lighting of the Sabbath candles. God’s first act of creation was saying "Let there be light." As a Jewish woman lights two shabbat candles as the first two stars appear in the sky on Friday evenings, she is welcoming light into her home and into the world. As she recites the Sabbath prayer, she motions her hands over the candlelight and over her head to symbolically spread this light to all. In my home, every night at the evening meal, the chalice is lit, a unison prayer is recited and a litany of thankfuls for the gifts of the day is shared among family members as we all hold hands. This daily ritual is a powerful centering and expression of gratitude for all that is our life. The light of the chalice warms our hearts and illuminates our connections.

Growing up Catholic, I participated in several forms of hand prayer at mass. I performed the sign of the cross with holy water as I entered the sacred space. I signed the cross several other times during the service as well. My hands were extended in peace during the Passing of the Peace. Interestingly, the Muslim salat ends with a similar passing of the peace. I invite you to pass peace now as you are willing by shaking hands and saying "Peace be with you" with the persons on either side of you.

A more complete form of embodied prayer happens in several traditions with hands moving in concert with the entire body. Thus we have the Shiva dancers in Hinduism, the ritualized movements of Hasidic Jews and Shakers and my favorite, the whirling dervishes of Sufis who whirl around with one hand raised to heaven and the other grounded toward the earth. I have appreciated participation in sacred dance in group settings of various kinds. This kind of prayer is something I expect to further explore as opportunities arise.

But I do have one fully embodied prayer practice that has been part of my daily life for years. Years ago I worked for Procter & Gamble, marketing new shampoos and other personal care products. A psychologist on my team declared that our showers are a way of re-enacting baptism on a daily basis. Yes, we need to get clean and smell good again but he believed that we have a deep seated need to re-birth, to start over, to re-sacralize ourselves every day. And so, over time, I developed my own ritual self-blessing that perform daily in the shower. It is my way of starting each day fresh spiritually, a chance to recognize my own divinity, to come clean again and again. I will share it with you in the interest of demonstrating how simple and how powerful this self blessing can be.

Bless me for I am part of the love in the universe.
Bless my eyes that I may see clearly and with vision.
Bless my mouth that I may speak truth with wisdom.
Bless my ears that I may truly hear what is spoken to me.
Bless my heart that I may have love and compassion for myself and others.
Bless my womb that I may be in touch with my creative energy and that of the universe.
Bless my feet that I may find and walk my own true path.
Blessed be.

Perhaps the simplest form of embodied prayer is recognizing the divinity in all we do. Mother Ann Lee, founder of the Shakers coined the phrase, "Hands to work, hearts to God." Phil Cousineau writes in the Handbook for the Soul

"According to the craftsmen of the Middle Ages, that’s why we have spiral patterns on our fingertips. They thought the whorls there are marks left by the soul entering or leaving the body. In this imaginative way of thinking, we infuse the people and things we touch in the world with soul by the care and attention of our touch. Our soul emerges from this mysterious place inside us and out through our fingertips, ensouling the wood we carve, the gardens we cultivate, the children and animals and lovers we touch. To me, this is a poetic way of imagining how we bring soul back into our personal lives—by paying attention to the very way we touch, as with the way we prepare food or the care we give our work or the manner in which we touch the earth."

May it be so.