With eyes closed and a small mallet in hand, the Rev. Kyohei Mikawa gently struck the bronze Himalayan singing bowl resting in his palm and bathed the Buddhist sanctuary in a resonant hum.

Mikawa spent the next 45 minutes skimming bowls, playing a tongue drum and chanting to create an immersive experience called a sound bath as he sat facing a dozen people relaxing or meditating on yoga mats.

Sometimes known as sound healing or sound meditation, sound baths have surged in popularity over the past decade, driven by growing public interest in mental health and wellness. But sound baths are no longer confined to yoga centers, crystal healing studios or other new age spaces. They have crossed over to mainstream worship spaces, including churches, temples and synagogues.

Faith leaders like Mikawa, who oversees Rissho Kosei Kai Buddhist Center in Los Angeles’ largely Latino neighborhood of Boyle Heights, are increasingly embracing sound baths. They see it as a way to reach out to their neighbors who may not be affiliated with a religion, but still want to be in community with others seeking spiritual experiences. They have also found ways to make this practice mesh with their respective faith traditions.

Adding religious practice to sound baths

The sounds that punctuated Mikawa’s session emanated from centuries of Buddhist tradition and practice, energizing and calming the mind at once, he said. A chant at the end of the sound bath, he said, means: “Seek refuge in the true spirit of who you are.”

“The goal is not to become a Buddhist, but a Buddha — the best version of who we are,” he said.

Rabbi Jonathan Aaron, who leads Temple Emanuel in Beverly Hills, a Reform synagogue, performs a sound bath the first Saturday of each month at the end of the Shabbat service, during a ceremony called the Havdalah. As part of this ritual, blessings are offered over wine, sweet spices and a multi-wicked candle while participants reflect on the difference between the sacred and the ordinary.

Aaron says a rejuvenating sound bath fits perfectly with the sensory nature of the Havdalah, preparing attendees for the week ahead. The rabbi works with a practitioner who uses crystal bowls, gongs, rain sticks and an ocean drum, which mimics the sound of waves, to create a relaxing, meditative atmosphere.

He believes that while a sound bath might not be inherently Jewish, it lends itself well to Jewish heritage, thought and prayer. Aaron points out that the first chapter of Genesis describes God creating the world through sound by speaking the words: “Let there be light.” Hearing, listening, and sacred sounds, including the call of the shofar that heralds the Jewish new year, are all important aspects of the faith, he said.

“I’m not trying to make the sound bath Jewish,” he said. “But I’m trying to bring Jewish energy and an experience by creating this environment that has a sound bath as part of it.”

Anna Reyner, a member who attended the sound bath, said the synagogue is a perfect space for it because it builds community — often a main purpose of a house of worship.

“When you are in this intricate sound wave experience with others, you feel a sense of community and a connection to the source of holiness," she said.

Connecting with neighbors through sound baths

The Rev. Paul Capetz, pastor of Christ Church by the Sea, a United Methodist congregation in Newport Beach, California, said their monthly sound bath sessions, performed by a local practitioner, are drawing people “who would never otherwise darken the door of a church.”

“I find the sound bath brings you to another level of existence,” Capetz said. “It’s almost hypnotic, but it’s not a drug. You’re experiencing it in real time that leaves you with a feeling of such serenity.”

The goal of having practices like sound bath and meditation in the church is not to convert, but to relate to others in the community who may be spiritual but not religious, the pastor said.

Churches are naturally conducive to sound baths because of their sense of history, sanctity, reverence and, often, pristine acoustics, said Lynda Arnold, a longtime sound healer who has performed at Episcopal churches in Los Angeles.

“We talk about wanting to bring people into a state of deep listening, contemplation, prayer and intention,” she said. “In this church environment, there is an endless amount of creativity that can happen with sound and music.”

While sound baths are a more recent phenomenon, the power of sound has been harnessed for healing and spirituality for millennia. Alexandre Tannous, a New York-based sound researcher and sound therapist who has done these sessions around the U.S. and abroad, said many religions and cultures believe in the primordial nature of sound.

In Eastern religions, “aum” is believed to be the primordial sound or vibration from which the entire universe was created and is sustained. In Egyptian mythology and the Hermetic tradition, the universe is believed to have been created through the power of the spoken word, also known as Logos. The concept of the universe being “sung” into existence or created by sound is a common motif found in several ancient and Indigenous traditions and mythologies.

“In Western science, how do we believe the universe started?” Tannous said. “With a Big Bang, right?”

The instruments used in a sound bath — such as gongs, singing bowls, bells, chimes, didgeridoos — all provide vibrations and grounding harmony that help a person quiet the mind and become focused, he said.

“Those notes between the notes have the power to quiet the multitasking monkey mind,” said Tannous, referring to the unadulterated harmonics produced by these instruments.

The science of sound

Ramesh Balasubramaniam, professor of cognitive science at the University of California, Merced, has looked into how the brain resonates with and responds to sounds — particularly in some frequencies that could induce a deep, meditative state. A sound bath, he says, is one of the routes to get there.

“When you hear a sound wave that oscillates four times a second, you’re going to facilitate brain waves in the same frequency range by a process known as entrainment,” Balasubramaniam said. “We have 100 billion neurons and they all sing in concert in the same frequency, producing this collective effect like a crowd chanting in a football game."

Jazmin Morales, who lives near the Rissho Kosei Kai Buddhist Center, has been attending Mikawa’s weekly sound baths for several weeks. She doesn’t know the science behind it. She just knows it works for her.

“I’ve always had trouble focusing when I meditate,” she said. “But a sound bath helps me focus. It’s helped me sleep when I was unable to sleep. It’s helped me let go of emotion. It’s even sparked my creativity.”

For Ridge Gonzalez, who practices yoga and meditation, it was her first time in a sound bath.

“It was amazing,” she said. “I could visualize the sound as if it were being sprinkled. I could see and feel it. When you’re meditating, you feel a sense of clarity. The sound bath feels like just another way of extending that practice.”

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Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.