“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” As the officiant speaks, hands in the congregation trace a simple pattern: forehead, navel, left shoulder, right shoulder. Twenty years ago this scene would only be played out in Catholic and high Anglican services. Today it is becoming more common in other Protestant denominations, particularly Methodism. Why the rise in use? What is at stake here?

I first discovered the sign of the cross at the Anglican observance of Morning Prayer at Duke Divinity School. At the time, it seemed to fall into the high church category. I did not know the significance or when it was appropriate. So I just filed it away as an interesting part of someone else’s tradition and moved on.

After this initial discovery, the sign appeared more and more in the weekly chapel services as well, especially during communion. Several students would make it before or after receiving the elements. Note to any potential seminary presidents: this is the result of hiring an English Anglican (Dr. Sam Wells) as dean of the chapel and his wife (Dr. Jo Bailey Wells) as a professor. Anything of this sort was relatively uncommon before the Wells’ arrived. Since it was not part of my background, I turned to Dr. Jo Wells for the Anglican understanding. Contrary to my expectations, there are no required moments for making the sign. “Some people,” she explained, “end the motion on ‘Son’ higher or lower than others. The Episcopal Book of Common Prayer suggests places when the sign would be appropriate to use but never requires it. The main focus of the sign is a reminder of baptism.” While this explanation sounded intriguing, the sign of the cross still felt very Anglican. I continued to do research but did not foresee myself adopting it as a practice.

Not long after my talk with Dr. Wells, I came across the sign again. Reconciliation United Methodist Church in Durham, my local church, incorporated the sign into its worship one Sunday. The sermon text for that Sunday was on exorcism, another topic many mainline Protestants find uncomfortable. Rev. Sue Eldon, the associate pastor, explained that the worship planning for the service showed the need for teaching it. They planned a prayer of exorcism, inviting the congregation to make the sign of the cross over themselves as they were prayed over. One question remained: did the congregation know anything about the sign? Not at first, Eldon explained, but they did after she decided to make use of her children’s sermon as a teaching moment for the whole church!

For Eldon, introducing embodied practices such as the sign of the cross is an important part of both worship and catechesis, allowing us to enter into God’s presence not only with our minds but with our bodies, too. The incarnation of Christ, Eldon argued, ought to change how we talk about Christianity. Ours, she said, is no longer merely a spiritual religion but a bodily one too. Using the sign, then, moves prayer from words and thought into action. This last point is the most important. “Making the sign of the cross shapes you in holiness in ways that prayer alone cannot,” she told me. Practices give you something to fall back on when you need it. She referenced the pilot who landed his plane in the Hudson several months back. In an interview, he said that he had been banking good practices for forty years, and that he cashed them all in that day. The sign of the cross, in a similar way, trains our bodies and minds to place ourselves under the care and grace of Christ’s cross, in a way that imprints itself deeply onto our souls and becomes part of who we are.

At this point, I wanted to know how else the sign of the cross was used. With my curiosity fully engaged, I contacted Rev. Dan Benedict, a retired United Methodist pastor. Rev. Benedict continues to work towards restoring a more sacramental emphasis in Methodist worship, and wrote an article for the United Methodist Church website about the sign of the cross. Benedict told me that he uses it at several points during the average Sunday morning service, including baptisms and communion. “I don’t remember anyone objecting or having a negative reaction,” he said. “People recognized that I am a high church guy. The Methodist church tends to be eclectic and generally low church so I don’t do it all the time.”

Of course people do have questions. Especially as a visiting pastor, Benedict warned, there will be people unaware of what you are doing. So, in order to guard against parishioners thinking that the sign of the cross is just some sort of odd “Catholic thing,” Benedict related how he explained it to his congregation: “Through baptism,” he explains, “we are in covenant with one another and God. The sign of the cross is a common indication of that covenant. It is our obligation and blessing to mark ourselves with the sign.” He suggests any pastors considering using the sign among congregations unfamiliar with the practice to offer a similar explanation. “People will accept most anything if you explain it to them,” he said.

I still had one more question: If you can use the sign, and people will go along with it, why should you? Benedict, just like Eldon, emphasized the importance of including the body in worship. Protestantism began as a word-oriented religion and not much has changed. “As we move into a more postmodern time, the whole culture is shifting towards multi-sensory experience. Any church that sticks with a merely rational approach will be increasingly isolated. People desire a full body experience. Churches should get liturgy into people’s muscles and nerves.”

This is not just an attempt to turn Methodists into Anglicans. John Wesley decried the sign of the cross as “superstitious,” although this may have had more to do with the anti-Catholic movement in England than any personal convictions. Nevertheless, the United Methodist baptismal liturgy in the Book of Worship does mention the sign. The liturgy includes the possibility of laying on hands after the water in order to make the sign of the cross at the invocation of the Trinity. It’s a small reference for people who would like to see it used more, but it’s important to know that it’s part of our tradition.

Personally, I have come to use the sign a great deal. At the invocation of the Trinity, I make it as a witness to the Triune God. The sign has also become a part of my devotional practice in communion, both before and after receiving the elements. For me, these two acts encompass my understanding of what happens during the sacrament. The sign before acknowledges the presence of Christ in the sacrament. I leave it to others to determine how this works theologically but I believe it to be true. The sign after receiving reminds me of the grace present and of my thankfulness for this freely offered gift.

It is too early to know if the sign of the cross will continue to grow in the Methodist church. I hope that it does. I certainly think it is important for the church to engage people’s bodies in worship. We are not just minds, taking in the words, but created beings. We should no more separate our minds and bodies than we should the Father and Son. So too, the sign reinforces our high calling as Christians. As Benedict described it, it’s a “reminder of my baptism and my putting on Christ, of accepting his claim upon my life and Christian witness.” The sign of the cross is a simple ritual that bridges the gap between worship and the world, between body and mind. Hopefully, as United Methodists, we can all begin to take simple steps like this in our worshiping life together, as we grow ever more fully into a people called out to worship the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit with our whole lives.