Pastor’s Pen for October 2018

“Come to me all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

– Matthew 11:28-30

Beloved of God,

October brings us into the fullness of the autumn season. But while the Earth (in the northern hemisphere at least!) is going about the business of yielding up leaves and harvests in preparation for the fallow season to come, we in the church are gearing up for meaningful ministry. Our Journey of Faith process begins this month and Confirmation classes resume.  Special Sundays are part of this month’s offerings: St. Francis/CROP Walk on Oct 7; a special meeting on Initiative 1631 on Oct 14; Offering of Letters and Quilt Sundays combine on the 21st; and Reformation Sunday comes on 28th.  Adding to this full menu are the series of annual banquets or auctions hosted by local ministries and non-profits. (You can read about all of these in the pages that follow.)  When it comes to family schedules, after school activities are ramping up, fall sports are in full swing, and schools are hosting curriculum nights and PTSA meetings—and did I mention autumn traditions like a trip to a pumpkin farm, and the hoopla (and sugar-high) that accompanies Halloween? Whew!

At times, gathering ourselves to enter this fuller than full rhythm can feel like sliding onto the saddle of a bucking bronco—grab on tight, for you’re in for quite a ride! Given these realities, we do well to remember to breathe…to make choices that support sanity…to pace ourselves.  So as you read about the myriad opportunities embedded within this October edition of Peace Notes, I invite you to enter the stream at a pace that will be energizing rather than depleting.

Toward that end, it seems fitting that The Feast of St. Francis on October 7 serves as a doorway to all that follows.  The Francis we’ve come to know did not begin life that way.  Like many of the young men he ran with during his youth, he was more interested in partying than attending to his father’s business.  Ask Francis what he wanted to be when he grew up, his answer would have been “a knight.”  In the age of the Crusades boys were captivated by the weapons, the armor, and the lure of winning a glorious name on the battlefield, and Francis was right there among them.  But his first real taste of war put a chink in his armor, and left him wondering if he had made the right choice.  After his release he had a dream in which Christ seemed to be calling him back to the battlefield as a soldier in the pope’s army, so he procured a horse and new armor and set off for Rome.  But while he was still on his way a second dream clarified the first.  Christ was calling him back home, to a future that was yet to be revealed.  The next morning, he mounted his horse and turned it toward home.

Outside the Basilica of St. Francis in Assisi a large sculpture captures that moment of turning.  There sits Francis, the would-be knight, still arrayed in his battle armor, slumped down in his saddle, his head and that of his horse, too, drooping, their spirits dejected and downcast.  His dream of glory has died, and he is headed back to an uncertain future.  The introspection that followed changed the trajectory of his life.  He renounced his wealth and became “wedded to Lady Poverty.”  Francis has become known around the world for his humility in relying on the power of God, and for his spirit of gladness and gratitude for all of God’s creation, and for his compassion for the poor and outcast of the world.

In the aftermath of the most divisive Supreme Court battle in a generation, I could use a good dose of St. Francis. I need to hear his voice calling me back to center; pointing me to the Christ who promises rest for all this struggling, burdened world. The issues and challenges facing our families, nation and world won’t go away on October 7—but the spirit and the groundedness with which I engage them might change.  At least, that’s my hope.  And I want to meet you there, in that place.

With you on the Way,

Pastor Erik

 

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