Interruption


Dear Eugene,

Last night I and my pastor tried out a new Vietnamese eatery in my neighborhood.

While I was saying our prayer (and I admit it was long as characteristically mine often is) the eponymous owner of the restaurant came with what we've requested, an extra bowl for sharing, and more, and spoke to us.

I thought it was beautiful, hearing my own voice, hopefully touching corners of the trust and desire of my friend, my pastor, in close proximity with only lemongrass chicken and a shared appetite between us, and now a gentle interjection mixing in.

The owner apologized right away, and I opened my eyes briefly to meet his and said it's perfectly fine.  Later he came back and apologized again in wide-eyed profusion, and we again affirmed him it's no problem at all.

He was eager to explain why he was so apologetic but I was too busy to pardon what cost me nothing to forgive, and so there was a bit of genteel cross-talk and probably a lot lost in translation between us.

It was not until at the end when I went up to the cashier that the restauranteur could explain (and apologize, yet again, twice more) he is a Catholic and respects deeply the sacred moment of prayer.  He has a piety in him that could be easily misread as affectation.

"No worries at all.  A prayer is meant to be interrupted," I smiled and nodded.

In fact the very point of praying is to ask God to interject into our daily conversation with ourselves and with others, to break into our habitual unawareness of Him.  It's risking to have ourselves shaken up and sometimes our life turned upside down.  Hearing new voices mixing in should be expected.

I don't know if he understood what I meant, about his interruption that I welcomed.  My prayer is that he did.

Yours, Alex

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