He came in and sat near the back. He bowed his head in prayer. Then, he stretched out his feet in front of him, yawned twice, popped a lemon drop in his mouth, yawned once again, rubbed his eyes, looked about him blearily – maybe to check and see if he had made it to the right place and with another yawn, his head began to teeter rhythmically on his shoulders.
He shuffled to his feet with the opening strains of “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.” With closed eyes, he “paid attention” to the law and the Scriptures. Meditating? Perhaps. Pondering? Perhaps. Sleeping? One cannot prove it.
He lurched to his feet with the announcement of the next song. He assumed a slouched position for the congregational prayer – shoulders slightly bent, his head supported by elbows bridged from knees to cheek bones. A reverent position? Perhaps. A contemplative position? Perhaps. A sleeping position? One cannot prove it.
The sermon proper could, perhaps, affirm all previous suspicions as to his actions. Without an obvious, deliberate attempt to fight drowsiness, he stretched out his cramped legs, folded his arms across his chest, gently dropped his head to form an acute angle with his chest, and …Meditated? I doubt it. Pondered? I doubt it. Slept? One cannot prove it.
Five minutes before the sermon terminated, he came out of this “reverie” to join the congregation in song and closing prayer.
And I tell you, this fellow went home thoroughly rested. Wide awake, he was and fully equipped with a set of eyes sharp enough to hostility view another week of Babylon. Prepared, he was, to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked – with his thoroughly rested, now alerted eyes. Armed, he was, with eyes piercing enough to withstand the wiles of the devil.