What was expected to be just a bigger barbeque evolved into a gathering with music, incredible potluck food, new friendships and, above all, an understanding of how we were all part of something noble, a community of people—many of whom never saw each other, each contributing to an effort that accomplished something remarkable.

The experience was far more than I could have ever envisioned. Everyone who took this work we do for granted and had never made the larger connection was simply astounded. For people at the beginning of the process, bankers and engineers to meet the carpenters and concrete finishers, or the backhoe operator to meet the painters and landscapers, gave the project a holistic completion. Watching the wife of the architect talking with the plumber’s daughters over corn on the cob, I saw each realizing the significance of what our work means.

For the owners, who rarely talked to anyone but the contractor, to meet electricians, delivery people and roofers, to meet their kids and wives, changed the experience of having their house built. The effort was better understood when everyone suddenly had a face and a name—each a part of the whole. The size and complexity of the community of people who made their house happen became real to them. It was, truly, miraculous.

The ridge blessing itself was drawn from my own experience as a builder, being there day in and day out to witness the transformation from bare land to completed project. I spoke of the process, the essential part each of the attendees played in that process, and how each one of us brought something special that the whole could not do without. I concluded by thanking them all, and wishing a long, memorable life to the owners who would inhabit the house for years after we, the community who built it, were gone. I expressed my gratitude for letting us all be part of the experience.

Finally, to offer a blessing on the house, I poured champagne, symbolic of sacramental anointing, over a branch collected from the property that I’d hung from the highest point in the structure–the ridge beam. I toasted all in attendance for all they’d done or would soon do to complete the house, and then we all emptied our glasses.

To my surprise, several people asked to speak of their own gratitude for being included and being shown what they were part of. Some of the subcontractors expressed that being paid and referred to more jobs had always sufficed as reward, but to be honored in such a way was something they’d never forget. This celebration of building was truly inhabited by some higher power, some connection to what those ancient cultures were sanctifying and paying homage to.

Over the next several years, John and I built many homes together, holding a ‘ridge ceremony’ at each, each unique to the project and community involved, but no less powerful in their expression or impact.

In the many years since, as the word of these ceremonies has spread, I have been “commissioned” to organize ridge ceremonies on projects that I was not associated with. These were no less potent in their effect on those involved, revealing that these core connections are true to every project and simply have to be intentionally accessed.

My career now focuses on writing and I no longer design or build, but many former clients have told me how that branch still hangs where I blessed it, and they will express shock at my surprise that they had not removed it. Their response is always the same: “We could never do that. It’s a sacred part of house.”