Sick

In the country I’m in now, the dominant religion broadcasts a call to prayer five times a day.  It’s atonal and sounds, as my Grandma caricatured, ‘like someone’s sick’.  It honestly sounds like moaning.  But isn’t that what prayer is?  We are sick creatures calling out for mercy.  Although the rest of their theology may be wrong, and whether they recognize it at all, they and all the rest of us are sick.  We are moaning, in need of redemption.