Years ago I remember hearing about an old man who, in simpler times, was very devout and committed to a life of prayer and devotion. He spent two hours at the beginning of each day in prayer.
In his early years, his cat would disturb his prayers by rubbing her fur against him as he knelt beside his bed, and this made it very difficult for him to concentrate on his prayer. At length he came up with a solution: Each morning he put a collar on his cat and tied the cat to the bedpost during his prayer time. It was a happy solution and, as a result, the man’s prayers went undisturbed.
That man had a daughter, who lived in a busier and more complicated time. She, like her father, was a devout believer. She also spent every morning in prayer. The daughter did not have two hours for prayer as did her father, but every morning she followed her father’s habit: She tied the cat to the bedpost and prayed for a solid hour.
The woman had a son. By the time the son had grown to adulthood, he lived in a fast-paced, technological civilization. No one had very much time for anything, especially the leisurely things of the Spirit. The young man was stretched in so many directions, with so many responsibilities, that his religion was a pale version of his mother’s and grandfather’s. But he did feel that it was important to honor the traditions of his forebears. So every night, he tied the cat to the bedpost.
I have thought of that little story so many times as I observe the lives and challenges of my parishioners, my friends and my family. I suppose it is an all-too-human tendency to subtly lose touch with the essence of religion while holding onto the appearance of it. In my circles, we call that “going through the motions.”
When I talk with people who don’t like “organized religion,” I suspect that what has turned them off is too much appearance and too little essence in the churches. Rather than criticize them, we ought to learn from them. We religious types ought to do a little audit of how much time we spend tying our cats to the bedpost instead of living the abundant and wonderful life God promises to those who dare to believe.
