Sunday mornings were ritualistic even before the public worship portion commenced for us. I would always wake up about an hour before it started. By the time I was all ready to go, I would often be waiting for my mom to come down the stairs before we would get in the car to drive into town. And seemingly every Sabbath of needing to get to a certain place by a certain time, I would be stopped in my tracks by Charles Osgood. His voice brought a calming presence into that kitchen, almost felt like into the whole countryside, from the television set, as he anchored CBS Sunday Morning for over 20 years. During the week, that and other tv’s in the house would be filled with plenty of doom-and-gloom from the Rathers and Brokaws and Jennings of the world. But something about Osgood beautifully infused hope back into the human mix.
A couple weeks ago, I presided over a graveside service for the father of a good friend I’ve known since middle school. Unfortunately, he’s had to go through this twice in a several year timeframe: both parents in their 50’s, dying from cancer. It’s not just him who’s had to endure it, but his three children, losing two spoil-you-rotten/love-you-to-your-core grandparents. He may not be the most overly religious type, but when speaking to his wife in making preparations for the most unfortunate proceedings at a cemetery, she, like many children of God cling to in such heart-wrenching moments; she boldly asserted: “Well, it’s all part of God’s plan. We just have to go along with it…” or something along those lines.
It is getting to that time of year when many teenagers will have to make a decision about their future, whether they wish to go to college after high school, or a trade school or take on an apprenticeship or whatever else. Our not-quite-there-yet children found one of my own graduation gifts: a book that seems to make a frequent appearance on tables inside home garages, where families invite relatives, friends, and plenty of others, to celebrate their high school graduate. It is Dr. Seuss’ Oh, the Places You’ll Go! I’ll be the first to admit I didn’t care too much for it at that point in my late teen years. I was more obsessed over gift cards, cash, and other pricier gifts. Yes, I appreciated the hand-written notes on the inside cover from my aunt and uncle and cousins: the usual “We’re so proud of you…We can’t wait to see what the future holds for you…Blessings!” etc. I suppose I cannot speak for all teenagers, but the words were spoken and written so often that I didn’t really care to go beyond those pages into Dr. Seuss’ wisdom for “the places [I might] go.”
As our Christmas celebrations have drawn to a close in the church (with us recognizing Epiphany, the magi’s arrival to adore the infant Jesus, this past Sunday), and as the decorations fade away from homes and elsewhere, I look back at this holiday season and realize one particular movie was played quite often in our house, at least. National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation is not everyone’s “film” cup of tea, to put it rather mildly. Honestly, I wasn’t wrapped in it until Sarah came along. And yet, many seem to connect with it, because they can relate to so many aspects of the production: finding the perfect Christmas tree that may not fit just right in our living room, proudly displaying outside lights all over our house as if to reveal the depths of our holiday joy (even if to the chagrin of next door neighbors), not to mention…interesting family dynamics with a good ‘ole cousin Eddie and an Art father-in-law. The drama/comedy keeps people watching seemingly every December since its release in 1989.
Since this upcoming Sunday we’ll be celebrating Epiphany (the arrival of the magi) as opposed to the assigned Baptism of Our Lord, we’ll instead take this wandering to traverse the wonderful gift of baptism that we often take for granted. For me, it was October 14. It’s not like I can tell you any differently; I wasn’t exactly aware of what was going on, then, being just a few months old and all. So, instead, I must take the word from a piece of paper that I received from my Confirmation ceremony: that day when I was supposed to affirm my baptism (not that I too spiritually aware as a young teenager, but that’s beside the point).
