As I sit at the computer writing, I find out that another friend died this week, a formidable woman who was a pioneer in working with computers and becoming the first female vice president at Honeywell. And I have been walking with another friend as she keeps vigil with her mother who has chosen to die because life no longer holds much for her. Loss is rampant along with the looming holidays. And the specter of “busy-ness.”
And then there is Paris and North Minneapolis.
This coming Sunday is the last of the church year, hence the n New Year’s greeting. It’s called “Sunday of Doom” (?) in the Swedish Evangelical Church, “Stirrup Sunday” (as in stirring up the Christmas pudding that has to set for several weeks), and “Christ the King Sunday”.I’m going with the last one in this week’s sermon, although it’s taken me a good while to sort out why this “feast day” is still on our calendar in a day when kings are pretty irrelevant.
This is a time to come to church. To hear the stories that have sustained people for thousands of years, to sing and pray in community with others who have such similar wants and fears, to break bread that promises strength for the journey. The Eucharist is, as writer Mark Osler reminds us, the last meal of a condemned man, and as such has particular poignancy for the present struggles. Church can be a place to shed your tears and give thanks for your joy. It’s a time-out from the rest of it.
See you there.
Barbara.
