I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Shirin McArthur’s reflection on liturgical dance and Embodied Prayer.
Words are my stock in trade. They are a necessary and integral part of how I make my living as a writer and editor. But sometimes, I intentionally don’t use words. I created Embodied Prayer, which is worship with movement instead of words, as an intentional counterbalance to my world of words.
I first encountered movement prayer in the church of my youth. In the 1970s, St. Andrew Presbyterian Church in Albuquerque, New Mexico was a thriving congregation engaged in all sorts of creative liturgical expressions, including the rediscovery and embrace of historical holy week observances—reimagined for the modern era. One aspect of this reimagining was a liturgical dance group. For some complicated reasons I did not participate, except occasionally as part of the youth group, but I longed to do so.
Many years later, I was reintroduced to movement prayer during my formation as a spiritual director. I embraced it, then found and joined a liturgical dance group where I lived in greater Boston. I began incorporating dance movements and yoga sequences into my morning stretch routines. These became my foundational expression of daily prayer. I trained as a Let Your Yoga Dance instructor and led sessions for people who yearned to express their spirituality in embodied ways.
After moving “home” to the desert southwest, I led movement prayer sessions for border-focused internships with the Center for Action and Contemplation (CAC) in Albuquerque. Then I led monthly Embodied Prayer sessions in the tiny mountain town of Silver City, New Mexico. Over the decades, I’ve facilitated Embodied Prayer in various retreat and conference settings, including online. I even created a liturgical dance for my best friend’s wedding. Each of these manifestations enfleshes my belief that all of us are invited to pray with our bodies—something I first learned in church so many years ago.
Of course, this movement hasn’t always come easy. One Sunday morning, I danced off the edge of a rug during my daily prayer and broke a bone in my foot. Then there are those who find liturgical dance distasteful or scandalous. My Presbyterian grandfather (who served as a powerful role model of faithful living for me) would have been appalled at liturgical dance and Embodied Prayer. I’ve been told that liturgical dance doesn’t belong in church, that it’s too sexual, and that it’s disruptive. Honestly, I’ll agree with the last point—and even embrace it.
Richard Rohr, who founded the CAC and whose work I edit, teaches that “the best criticism of the bad is the practice of the better.” Inspired people have been disrupting the status quo throughout Christian history. At one point, I thought of Embodied Prayer as my contribution to the Emerging Church movement. This movement sought to bring new life into Christian liturgy and theology in ways similar to the liturgical innovations that inspired me as a youth.
Some Christian movements, though short-lived, still make an impact on a generation or two. Others, such as the Protestant Reformation, endure and change the course of history. Eventually, every such movement is co-opted by or subsumed into the church, and another reformation arises in response to this institutionalization.
I didn’t start Embodied Prayer as an intentional “reformation” or criticism of something “bad.” Rather, I felt something was missing. I loved the periodic opportunities our liturgical dance group was given to participate in worship services. However, I didn’t like liturgical dance being treated as a performance that members of the congregation watched. I wanted to invite worshippers to participate somehow (as I had longed to participate in my youth). I believe that all of us are invited to pray with our bodies, in whatever ways we can. Embodied Prayer became my response to that invitation.
Today, I’m rediscovering what Embodied Prayer means for me. I am newly divorced and reconsidering almost every aspect of my life. When I realized it was time to leave my marriage, an image came to mind, of me growing wings and taking flight. I drew such an image years ago in a workshop at a CAC conference. It has taken on new meaning and purpose for me as I leap prayerfully from one stage of my life to the next.
Shirin McArthur is an Episcopal spiritual guide, editor, writer coach, and retreat leader who lives in Arizona and ponders the sacred through poetry, photography, nature, and contemplation. She holds a Master of Divinity degree and a Certificate in Spiritual Guidance and has been a solopreneur since 2012. ShirinMcArthur.com.
