It always kind of amazes me how easy it is to feel alone in this great big world. Even in a place like New York City, where you can’t walk two feet without running into about a million other people.
This past Tuesday, I was sitting at my desk, trying to write. But my mind was in a million places. You know how some days it just feels like your bundle of burdens is a bit too heavy? Like there’s a queen-size, memory-foam mattress strapped to your back, and you’re the only one dealing with the extra load?
Maybe I’ll go to church and clear my head, I thought. Sometimes I pop in at St. Peter’s, a few blocks from our downtown office, before work or during lunch. I only had a few minutes, though, to make the noon service. I grabbed my coat and rushed over.
I made it to church past 12 and slid into a pew, hoping no one judged my late arrival. Was it just me or were the rows more packed than usual? The priest led the congregation in singing “Hallelujah.” That confirmed it. Our singing for once was, well, loud–there must’ve been two or three times as many people in the pews.
What were they all doing at church on a Tuesday afternoon? It wasn’t even Ash Wednesday!
“You all sang that ‘Hallelujah’ very well!” the priest told us. He explained how “Hallelujah” meant “Praise God.” He made no mention of a special holiday or feast day, though. No explanation for the number of people there.
But something about our voices joined together singing “Hallelujah” struck a chord with me.
What brought all those people to church in the middle of the day? Probably the same thing that brought me there. A need for peace that’s not of this world.
There was something comforting about that. We have God, but he also gives us the gift of one another. People we can share our joys and sorrows with. Strangers we can sing our hearts out with, side by side, in church.
We’re not really alone, even if it sometimes feels like it. I think that deserves an extra “Hallelujah”!
