At 42, the Reverend Susan S. Izard discovered that her childhood practice of knitting was a form of praying. The shawls now made by knitting circles like hers are gifts of pure love. This is her story.

My grandmother taught me to knit when I was eight and I've found that, like learning to write or ride a bicycle, it's a skill you never forget. As a child and teenager, vacations often included side trips to yarn shops where my mother, four sisters, and I picked out new projects or sweater patterns. Today, we still compare notes about the knitting projects we are working on. One sister is currently knitting a sweater made of wool from her own lambs.

It wasn't until I reached the age of 42, when I was a minister and leader of a knitting circle dedicated to making prayer shawls, that I discovered knitting as a form of prayer. In January 2000, a group of women at my church began knitting prayer shawls for people who were sick, mourning, depressed, or lonely. We had no idea of the impact our little knitting circle would have on our lives or the lives of those who received the shawls.

We had heard of the shawl ministry through Vicky Galo and Janet Bristow (shawlministry.com). From the beginning, we welcomed anyone who was interested. Galo's knitting pattern was easy for beginners to master: three skeins of Lion Brand Homespun yarn; 57 stitches on size 11 or 13 needles; knit three, purl three. Since every row began with knit three, the pattern required very little effort or experience on the part of the knitter.

When we gathered for our first meeting, the room was abuzz with conversation about the colors of the yarn that had been chosen. Some of us had begun knitting ahead of time, so that those just starting could see how the shawls would look. We placed a lit candle in the center of our circle and began with a prayer. While we knitted, we talked about the ministry and other activities in our lives. We also set aside time to knit in silence and were moved by the quiet clicking of the needles and the stillness of the room. We felt God's presence. We ended the meeting with a prayer, asking for God's blessing on the work we were doing.

As we gave shawls away, we began to receive thank you notes with the stories of those who received them. Recipients said they felt loved, cared for and, most of all, surrounded by God's presence and compassion. They were deeply moved to know that someone had cared enough to pray for them and to make a cozy, warm, comforting gift. One mother of a young girl battling cancer told me that her daughter said that when she felt bad, she wrapped herself tightly in the prayer shawl and it made her feel much better. Another woman refused to take her shawl off during her final months of life because it was her "scarf of love." She could not be without it.

The notes and stories changed our attitude toward the ministry. We realized that our simple knitting and gentle prayer had become symbols and offerings of God's compassion for others. We discovered that by offering compassion we also received compassion. In our Christian tradition, St. Paul claimed that the gifts of the Spirit are "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control." We began to see how living out this truth had changed us.

The Clicking Mantra
I soon noticed that something else was happening. The simple pattern of knit three, purl three had become so ingrained in my hands and mind that I did not need to think about the pattern while I was knitting.

One day as I was knitting alone, I realized that the click of the needles and the movement of my hands had become a mantra. The rhythm of the needles had the same effect on me as the prayer word I used while practicing contemplative prayer. In the quiet of my home, the knitting calmed me. I became more intentional about using quiet knitting as a form of contemplative prayer.

I decided to use the principles of Centering Prayer, as taught by Father Thomas Keating during my knitting time (see SpiritualityHealth.com/Centering). I found a quiet place to knit away from interruptions. If any thoughts or ideas interrupted the quiet, I used the rhythm of the knitting to center me and bring my attention back to the quiet. Over time, I realized that knitting grounded me in the light and love of The Holy One just as my centering word does.

By using knitting as contemplative prayer, my heart was changed. I like to say the knitting converted me. Compassion and care became my mode of being, a part of who I am.

Wrapped in Love
The work of the ministry grew as people shared their ideas and creative insights. I gave a shawl to a minister friend who was a talented musician. To thank the circle, he recorded a tape of improvised music based on familiar hymns for us to listen to when knitting. We copied it for members to listen to while knitting at home.

He now starts each gathering of his own church's knitting circle with 15 minutes of improvised music, so that all the knitters can center their attention on the Holy One before the more social part of their meeting starts.

Another friend who belongs to the Roman Catholic community of the Daughters of Wisdom began writing regularly to share the prayers she had written to accompany the shawls she gave away. On 9/11, her nephew was killed at the World Trade Center. He had been the father of four young children.

My friend wanted to give his mother and widow shawls, but did not have any available. She asked if we had any to spare. She wrote "A Prayer of Comfort" (see box, facing page) to accompany the shawls. The prayer conveys the encircling presence of God that is in the shawls. Now, we almost always accompany the shawls we give away with this prayer, which we have learned can mean as much as the shawls. As one young widow said: "It speaks to everything I am feeling."

I have come to understand contemplative knitting as both an inner and an outer prayer journey. By going within, to seek quiet and inner transformation, I have come to understand that my purpose is to become a person of compassion. When I stumble and make mistakes, I have learned to find a quiet place, pick up my knitting and bring my attention back to God and my call to compassion. Some days I only have to knit a few rows. Other days require many rows, but I have come to trust that eventually I'll be able to be still and quiet.

Today, I realize that my grandmother's knitting lessons were much more than learning a craft. For me, knitting has become a doorway into compassion. For that, I am deeply grateful.

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The Reverend Susan S. Izard is pastor of spiritual life at First Church of Christ, Congregational in West Hartford, Connecticut. She is a co-author of Knitting into the Mystery: A Guide to the Shawl-Knitting Ministry by Susan S. Jorgensen and Susan S. Izard, Morehouse Publishing, Inc., 2003.

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