pastoral letter by Torin Eikler
Ahh, fall weather… changing leaves … cooler weather … the world series … football … the beginnings of the holiday season. It’s one of my favorite times of year, and it seems to have something for everyone – except those who really (and I mean really) love the warmth. This year, though, seems to feel different to me. Perhaps it’s the expectation of a new child and all the hubbub that goes with preparations. Perhaps it’s the economic situation that is so much in the news. Perhaps it’s the election hype that is blaring from every TV, radio, and yard sign. Perhaps it is some bit of all these things, but I find myself so caught up in the current and focused on everything that is going on around me that I haven’t been able to enjoy autumn this year.
Where have the moments of standing in awestruck appreciation of color-splashed trees gone? The brisk autumn walks with the cold pinching my nose just the right amount? The evenings with a hot cup of tea as the sun sets earlier and earlier? It seems to have rolled right past me. In its place I have the struggle to get Sebastian dressed for the weather – warm or cool, who knows, the rush to meet deadlines, and evenings filled with one task after another until I can collapse into bed. Even things like putting the garden to bed, baking bread, or finding the right presents for my family have lost the feel of satisfaction, becoming just another things to check of the to-do list.
But, I know there is more out there. I remember it. I have even caught glimpses of it in fleeting moments – moments like the youth group gathering at the Yoder’s farm when we took a hayride in the chilly, dusky light, roasted hotdogs amidst laughter and contented chatter, and lay on our backs looking up at the stars shining in the night sky. Moments that call me back from the maelstrom of life into the spaciousness of God’s time and the quiet warmth of community.
And, community is a big part of what it’s all about, I think. God calls us – calls all people in the world – to a different way of living. It’s a way of life that welcomes the stranger as if they were a friend and embraces the enemy as a brother or sister. It’s the way that offers what we have to those who have need and leads us to sit beside those who are suffering, lonely, or just different. It’s the way that leads to a common table shared by all and hosted by the Prince of Peace. Sometime – in God’s time – we will all get there. In the mean time, we would do well to ask if the path we are walking leads to that table and how we can invite others to find the way.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
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