“If you don’t know the kind of person I am

and I don’t know the kind of person you are

a pattern that others made may prevail in the world

and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.”

– William Stafford ^[1]

Beloved of God,

The turn of the calendar to September initiates a series of shifts in our life together as a congregation, most notably in our worship life and Christian Education programming.  Add to these the start of fall school terms, sports practices and games, music lessons, and the like, and it makes for schedules that can feel overwhelming at times.  How do we find our way through the thicket of appointments and obligations?  When do we breathe?

I invite you to see your involvement in our congregational life not as one more in a series of obligations but as an opportunity to connect more deeply with others who share the journey of faith, and with the Source of faith and life itself.  At a time when our culture is fragmenting and increasingly virulent rhetoric threatens to undermine the search for common ground, Christ’s presence in Word and Sacrament gives us solid ground on which to stand.  In the company of Jesus we experience an acceptance that touches the marrow of our souls.  In the company of Jesus we learn to see each other through compassionate eyes.  In the company of Jesus we can risk sharing the hopes and longings that animate our hearts.

The opening lines of William Stafford’s poem, “A Ritual to Read to Each Other” (a new favorite) aptly describe the dangers we face living in a fragmented, disconnected world.  Absent a caring community where we can know others and be known, “a pattern that others made may prevail in the world and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.” There are many entities active in the world which seek to bend our minds toward their “truth”; toward how they would have us see the world and act in it.  Being a person of faith means remaining awake and vigilant about which voices we listen to and whose steps we follow.  Incorporating Christian Education—whether it be adult forums, Sunday School, Bible study, confirmation class—into the pattern of our lives keeps us awake to ways of practicing our faith day in and day out.  Stafford’s poem continues:

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,

a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break

sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood

storming out to play through the broken dike.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant’s tail,

but if one wanders the circus won’t find the park,

I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty

to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,

a remote important region in all who talk:

though we could fool each other, we should consider—

lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,

or a breaking line may discourage them back to

sleep;

the signals we give — yes or no, or maybe —

should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

When it comes to the “mutual life” we share as citizens, as human beings, as Earthlings, Stafford’s warning strikes deep.  So much seems to be up for grabs; so many routes into the future look like beelines into dark places.

But the hope which is ours through our crucified and risen Lord is that no matter how deep or endless the dark may seem, it cannot and will not thwart God’s plan to redeem and heal all things.  As Easter reveals: even the deepest darkness—death—could not eclipse the Light which shone in the manger at Bethlehem and burst out from the empty tomb.  Each of us will make choices this fall.  I invite you to invest yourself in our congregational life.  To choose from among the many doorways and opportunities that have been set out for connecting to Christ Jesus and to others.

With you on the way,

Pastor Erik

[1] “A Ritual to Read to Each Other” from The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems. Copyright © 1998 by William Stafford.