Thoughts on parallel tragedies

Tragedy: a medieval narrative poem or tale typically describing the downfall of a great man;  a disastrous event.

Sometimes there is no logical resolution to a tragedy and the story leaves us with deeply felt feelings and questions but few words to explain what we should think or say.  The following is NOT about what happened in Boston this week, but about another of perhaps several tragedies that happened in the same time frame. We pray for healing and peace for all involved in Boston and in Wisconsin.

My sister Jean wrote this from Wisconsin last week. 

Spirituality and Our Life Stories

Logically, many of the people I have conversations with these days are of my own generation...  former colleagues from my years of work in many places, long time friends, cousins and siblings, and people we meet in the churches we attend and the community in which we now live.  Also it seems to be that, so far at least,  most of those who are reading my book and finding it interesting, are of a mature age. 

I had hoped and perhaps somewhat naively thought that the themes of the book, with stories of service from various places and cultures around the world, might appeal to young people who are exploring careers of service.  But they are busy people, these young ones, and have many other things to read and do.  We have made the book available to some of those who are entering the Young Adults in Global Mission program of the ELCA.  (Lutheran Church)

I do try to communicate with and keep connected with some young people - especially our own kids and grand kids, but we seem to spend a lot of time now with "old people".  Unfortunately there aren't many youth in the churches we visit and relate to, and a common lament we hear is about the diminishing numbers in the churches and the departure of the next generation after ours,  and the next... the generation of our children and grandchildren. 

An Easter Journey

The last two weeks are a bit of a blur.  We began a trip to Oregon two days  before Palm Sunday and arrived home in Sheridan, Montana a week after Easter Sunday, having traveled almost 4000 miles, including a round trip to Minneapolis. As I traveled those long miles - east and west - to the coast of Oregon and back through Montana and the Dakotas I was reminded that the first title I had selected for my book was to have included the words "the endless journey" in it. That referred, of course, to the spiritual journey, and does catch a bit of the truth of our spiritual journeys.  

Now I am thankful that this road trip has finally ended.  It was a good and salutatory journey to the funeral of Maurice, our brother-in-law - the husband of Romell, Judy's sister ... a celebration of his life and a necessary time of remembrance, feelings of connections and thankfulness for family, good conversations and pondering about the meaning of life and of Easter -even thinking about the subject of doubts on this day when the Gospel text was about Thomas, the doubter.  

The Easter season continues, of course. We got this message on Easter Sunday from Jenkin Thomas, our long-time friend in London.

"May I wish you Happy Easter in my mother tongue, Welsh, namely "Pasc Llawen". "Pasc" is the Welsh for Easter and in the Welsh language the adjective follows and does not precede the noun. "Pasc" is of course derived from the Judaeo-Christian Latin name for the feast.

It always strikes me as odd that in Anglo-Saxon lands the biggest feast of the Christian year should be entitled "Easter" in distant commemoration of "Eostre", an Anglo-Saxon spring fertility goddess."

Something else to ponder but not something to keep me awake  at night. As I sit and take in the springtime sunset over the mountains in our Montana valley home, it is a peaceful feeling that lingers with me now.  Good to have made the trip and it will certainly be good to sleep in our own bed tonight.  

Peace be with you,