O Come, All Ye Faithful

Harmonious tidal waves give way to the silence of a pause between breaths. A moment of stillness before water is dragged screaming over pebble and shell back towards chaos. Organ and voice are shocking in their absence, lasting for a timeless heartbeat before a piercingly high voice rings across an ocean of sombre faces. They are determined to remain reverent in the face of a bygone ritual to which they come but once a year.

“Almighty God, to whom all hearts are open, all desires are known and from whom no secrets are hidden”. I notice the shape of a woman’s shoulders in front of me. Her hair spills in golden cascades from a fashionable fur hat left atop head not in disrespect, but in ignorance.

“Love thy neighbour as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than this”. A tall dark haired man to her left reaches his hand onto her’s. Heads turn, exchanging glances of ownership. She is his. He is hers. A fire ignites in me.

“God is love and we are his children. There is no room for fear in love. We love because he loved us first”. My attention leaves the room and finds the face of another. Absent in person, but present in heart. A spark of anxiety wells in my chest, a worry that she is elsewhere and glad of it.

A second wave breaks as organ washes over the audience, forcing thought from minds. A begrudging crowd gets to its feet in a badly choreographed performance of awkward looks and bowed heads. A harmonized melody begins.

“O come, all ye faithful . . . “