A little journey through this topsy-turvy journey of joys and sorrows and hopes and dreams with plenty of grace from God along the way.
As we approach this All Saints celebration weekend, when we typically focus on those who have died since the previous year’s All Saints weekend, sometimes it’s helpful to consider those who have gone even before. To consider the impact still being felt by them, even years and years since their earthly departure. And so, over the years I do my best to keep in mind Mrs. Lee.
Growing up on the more rural end of things, my siblings and I would have to go into town for the trick-or-treating festivities, or to participate in the parade in hopes of winning cash and/or candy prizes to satisfy our gadget or rotting-our-teeth craving. Except, what I remember more now is being at my babysitter’s house, when I believe I reached the whole too “cool” stage to go trick-or-treating anymore. Instead, I would help hand out candy to the complete strangers coming to her house.
This week, I’m learning with pastors from Tacoma, Washington to Long Island, New York, along with a fair share from North Dakota and Minnesota (still quite a few Lutherans out there, after all) at Camp Lutherlyn, one of our ELCA-supported camps, just north of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Because, as much as we know the landscape on the organized religion (and many other) front is being slightly altered, to say the least, we also know that just sitting in a room in front of lecturer isn’t going to help enough: we need relationships. We need conversations. We need humility and honesty. We need a willingness to try and a grace to pick us up when it doesn’t work. We need people who can very well say, “I know exactly what you’re going through. It reminds me of…” but will hold back and simply listen.
It’s not always ideal to have to make the trip from one side of Cleveland to the other, but after our Bible study Monday evening, focusing on Matthew 14:22-33, in which walking-on-water Jesus saved not-so-walking-on-water Peter, the full moon started to emerge with its eye-catching beauty in the sky. One of the details in that story is the time when Jesus starts defying the laws of physics. Scholars say the literal translation would be “in the fourth watch of the night,” meaning between 3 and 6am.
Last week, I had to take a detour from a road that seemed to never get any attention since we moved here several years ago. Nevertheless, the bold “Road Closed” sign forced me to alter from this version of “we’ve always done it this way.” We weren’t exactly running behind schedule, but it was still a nuisance, nonetheless. And then this car in front of us, on this particular “road less traveled,” had a bumper sticker that seemed to be as outlandish as the detour: “I hope something good happens to you today.” The alteration ended up being worth it, in the end.
