The Power of Everyday Rituals

 In the labyrinthn way of the internet I came upon on article a few days ago by Ane-Laure Le Cunff with the title: 

Why your brain needs everyday rituals:  Rituals serve psychological functions that go far beyond mere habit or tradition.

Helpfully, there were a few key points offered before the article: 

Key Takeaways

• Rituals — repeated, meaningful routines — give the brain structure when life feels uncertain. 
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  Their predictability can calm stress, reduce mental load, and improve social interactions. 
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  You can design small, personal rituals to actively program your brain for resilience, clarity, and connection.
  
  She cites practices such as: 
Waiting for everyone to be served before eating, giving presents for birthdays and holidays, saying “hello” and exchanging scripted pleasantries, clapping at the end of a performance — all of these are rituals woven throughout our days."

This makes a lot of sense to me and I'll readily admit that I use the same coffee mug every morning, I endeavour to exercise every day, and before I sleep I write in my journal, a ritual of 40+ years. I would like to think that my daily and weekly rituals, including attending worship, are meaningful, at least for me. I'm open to new experiences, including through travel, but rituals are helpful, solid ground in my life.

I saw this piece as I was preparing for the memorial service yesterday of a young man who died of a overdose of drugs two weeks ago. It was a traumatic loss for the family who are neighbours on our court of nine homes. When I retired from ministry I mostly left behind the "match, hatch, and dispatch" aspects but I said yes because of their distress. 

The rituals of gathering in grief in funerals and memorial services has changed dramatically in the past few decades, accelerated by the COVID pandemic. Services of leave-taking "to be held at a later date"  often didn't happen and it has become generally more common now. I gently told the family I would preside provided I could be true to my Christian compass and they readily agree. 

There were about 175 people present, the majority young, and the chapel at the funeral home was filled to overflowing. About a dozen neighbours there and we went together to buy flowers -- another ritual. 
 There was a lot of tenderness and grace in the service with both parents, long separated and re-partnered, speaking with affection and honesty about their lost son. 

What we did together, as a congregation created by painful circumstances, was a ritual rooted in tradition yet meant for the moment. I know that it was meaningful for many of the people present. Tears were shed, laughter was shared, we clung fast to hope in Christ.