Ceremony.

Contemplations on the beauty of ceremony.

I am enamored by ceremony.

We could simply look into the gaze of each other’s eyes and determine that in life, we will journey together. Or for the sake of ceremony, we could send an entourage of elders from the man’s homestead to the woman’s homestead, and make a proposal for a formal unification of families. In marriage. We could take vows, make oaths of loyalty, while string music punctuates each promise. We could say that you, as family, may come clad in pinks and you, as friends, may come clad in purples.

When a child is born, we could simply start to call the child by the name that we’ve toyed with for 40 weeks or 4 years, but we could also wait. For the sake of ceremony, we could wait 7 days after birth, to see if the child is as gentle as we hoped or as wide-eyed as her father’s mother. We could ask grandparents and aunts and uncles to ‘donate’ names to the compilation. We could type these out on sheets of paper, indicating the languages of origin and the meanings. We could call out each name, in full intonation, after which everyone choruses amen, as if to convert the prophecy to a promise. We could say, ‘and so shall your names be.’

When a scholar attains the height of academic achievement, we could simply say he has done so. Or for the sake of ceremony, we could say that she and her peers must present themselves before an audience of more established scholars, to receive admission into the chamber of scholars. We could ask that they march down to ‘Pomp and Circumstance’, a tune that evokes as much admiration in the audience as it does pride in the scholar. We could say that all must rise to show honor.

It is for the sake of ceremony, and thus a contribution to our memory banks, that we say that as we start the year, or for 40 days prior to Easter, and for a time, we will withhold from our bodies the typical pleasures of food and wine and some excesses. We will deprive our bodies of decadence so that perhaps we can heighten the senses of our spirit over those of our bodies. Fasting.

This is an ancient interpretation of the Psalms; we will pray it in form of a song, and we will lay it out as a marker of the end of our fellowship gathering. Doxology. Let us all rise, let us all bow, let us all sing. Let us all give a moment of silence. Let us all wear little. Let us all wear much. Let us all wear dark colors. Let us all wear bright colors. Let us all dance in this way, with no additions to or subtractions from how we have always danced. Let us all be in unison in this moment.

We mustn’t, but we could.

Ceremony beckons us to make room for protocol, where it may not be necessary but perhaps where it may be nostalgic or just exciting. Or, where it may be the documentation of something to be remembered. And there lies the beauty of ceremony. To say that we do not find this obligatory, but we find it oh so exhilarating.