What is Reverence?

Reverence begins in the quiet.

It’s the way we pause before we speak.

It’s not a performance—it’s a posture.

A way of saying, “This moment matters. This presence is holy.”

I don’t often hear the topic of reverence come up, if at all.

But instead feel the energy of urgency and noise in the world

I think our souls still long for it though—

A slower, truer way of being.

With God.

With ourselves.

With each other.

A way of honoring what can’t always be explained, but can be deeply felt.

Reverence is how we listen

when someone shares something tender.

It’s how we treat beauty

when we come across it in the wild—

A still morning.

An old hymn.

A flower breaking through concrete.

It’s how we open the Word—not to dissect it, but to let it read us.

How we kneel—not just with our bodies, but with our hearts.

But reverence isn’t always soft.

Sometimes it comes in a moment of courage—

when your voice is shaking,

but your spirit knows something is sacred and must be honored.

I’ve had moments where I didn’t move quietly.

I moved boldly.

Because reverence can be a fire, too.

A rising in your chest that says, “This matters too much to stay silent.”

Reverence doesn’t have to be grand.

It lives in quiet decisions.

The way we look up.

The way we let go.

The way we wait.

Or the way we rise and speak when the moment calls for it.

Maybe reverence is what helps us remember:

We are not the center of everything,

but we are held by the One who is.

So today, I’m choosing reverence—

Not just in the sacred spaces,

but in the ordinary ones.

Because God is here, too.

And sometimes the holiest thing we can do

is slow down—or speak up—

enough to see it.

To hold life in high regard, with deep respect.

Rooted in reverence,

Rebecca Faith