There’s a charming little church just down the street from where I live in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, with beautiful bells that glisten in the sunlight. On Sunday morning these bells ring out, drawing dozens and dozens of local  families – so many parishioners they spill out of the small sanctuary and onto the sidewalk and street. I walk by in admiration and awe.

(The bell tower of the church in my ‘hood)

Bells beckon. 

In an effort to learn more about the spiritual power of bells, of course I turned to my handy colleague Professor Google, who informed me:

The use of bells in religious contexts predates Christianity. Bells were part of the Jewish High Priest’s garments, symbolizing God’s presence, and were also used in ancient Chinese and Egyptian worship. Pagan cultures rang bells in winter celebrations, believing the sound would drive away evil spirits.

The Christian practice of using bells began in monastic communities in the 5th and 6th centuries to call monks to prayer. These were initially small handbells, which evolved into the large cast-metal bells hung in steeples and bell towers today.

By the Middle Ages, church bells were common throughout Europe and served as the community’s main form of mass communication. The bells’ primary function has always been to summon the faithful to communal prayer and services, providing an audible invitation to turn their attention to God.

Why my sudden interest in bells?, I ask myself? The answer is a haunting song by Leonard Cohen I heard for the first time the other day, whose refrain has been replaying in my mind:

“Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in

That’s how the light gets in.”

(You can see Leonard Cohen’s moving performance of this anthem in London in 2008 here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6wRYjtvIYK0 .)

(From Kim’s post, “The Crack in Everything”)

My friend Kim had included Cohen’s anthem in one of her blogposts of five years ago, during COVID, which she sent to me this week in response to my previous post, “Take a Broken Thing,” about the Japanese art of kintsugi. My kintsugi post had reminded Kim of her own, which she’d since forgotten.

Kim’s post, titled “The Crack in Everything,” is a treasure trove of delicious and practical information, plus photos, about this ancient Japanese tradition of repairing broken bowls with gold, and I’d urge all WOW readers to read her post in full: 

https://kimmie53.com/2020/09/15/the-crack-in-everything/ .

As Kim rightly points out, “Like most things in Japan, kintsugi is not just about bowl repair. It’s a metaphor for repairing ourselves in ways that make us better than the original.”

More than ever I seem to be groping for metaphors, especially in these dark and tumultuous times. Kintsugi is a great metaphor. Bells are another. Kintsugi as repair. Bells as action.

To me, right now, Cohen’s anthem is a call to action: Yes, we all must ring bells – make noise, make our voices heard, against the avalanche of cruelty, violence, injustice, and horrors we see happening in the U.S. and all around the world. 

What bells, you ask? Whatever bells (methods) we have that “still can ring.” Our efforts don’t have to be “perfect offerings”; we should know by now that nothing’s perfect. And we must never stop searching for that crack where the light of hope gets in.

Ancient peoples believed the sound of bells drove evil spirits away. Let’s all ring our bells now – actual and metaphorical – because there’s so much evil to vanquish. Silence is complicity.