When the Congregation Says “Amen,” I Say “I AM”

I visit many churches.

Not because I’m searching for the right doctrine, or a belief system to replace another, but because I value sitting with community.

There is something ancient and necessary about gathering — breathing the same air, sharing silence, song, reflection, and intention. Each church carries its own rhythm, its own language, its own way of touching the mystery.

I go to experience, not to judge.

And every time, without exception, there is a moment that feels older than the building, older than the tradition itself.

The moment of Amen.

When the prayer closes and the congregation speaks in unison — Amen — I quietly say something different.

I say:

I AM.

Why I Say “I AM”

To most, Amen means “so be it” or “I agree.”

And that’s true — but it’s not complete.

Amen is ancient. Far older than Christianity. Far older than scripture. Its roots reach back to Amun, the Egyptian principle of the Hidden Source — the unseen presence behind all form, breath, and light.

Over time, the meaning narrowed, but the sound survived.

When I hear a room full of people say Amen, what I feel beneath it is not belief — it is completion. A sealing. A return to source.

And at the core of that source is something even simpler than Amen:

I AM.

“I AM” Is Not Ego — It Is Awareness

“I AM” is not a title.

It’s not an identity.

It’s not saying I am this or I am that.

It is awareness before the story.

Before gender.

Before role.

Before belief.

Before doubt.

Sitting in Churches With This Knowing

And when the prayer ends, and voices rise together in Amen, I let the sound pass through me — and I return it to its source.

I AM.

Not instead of Amen.

But inside it.

Because prayer doesn’t end with words.

It ends when awareness remembers itself.

Community Without Separation

This practice hasn’t separated me from church.

It has done the opposite.

It allows me to sit anywhere — Catholic, Protestant, Anglican, or even quietly after saying grace — without needing agreement to feel a sense of belonging.

Because beneath every doctrine is the same still presence.

Beneath every prayer is the same awareness.

Beneath every Amen is the same silent truth.

When the congregation says Amen, they are sealing the prayer.

I AM that I AM - you are the answer, #42isyou

When I say I AM, I am acknowledging the one who hears it.

And in that moment, there is no distance between the altar, the pew, the prayer, or the one praying.

Just presence.

Just breath.

Just being.

Bill