I get itchy in temples and I make jokes at funerals. You could reasonably describe me as “irreverent.” But I have felt the divine. I was in college, and it was a Wednesday, and I was stuck in choir rehearsal. And we had a moment, together, in the middle of John Rutter’s “Requiem.” My voice became my neighbor’s. Our breaths fused into one. What I felt was liquid gold. I understood, then, what spirituality was. It was something deeply alive.
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