My husband teases me for falling asleep (or very nearly) during the sermon at church.
I do not see it as disrespectful. I enjoy listening to the sermon and the introspection that accompanies it. This time is the oasis amidst the tensions, anxieties, work, and other chaos. For however long it lasts, I don’t have to do anything but rest and listen. If I sleep then, it is usually with my husband’s arm around me, where I feel safe and peaceful.
I think that this type of sleep should be called sacred rest, because the refreshment of the mind and body during that short time transcends even the best nap. I am surrounded by people who love me, listening to the gentle words of my Rector. I am only a weary child of God, and the rest is a balm to my soul.
I just hope I don’t snore…