Week 6 of 29: I Feel Something Drawing Me On

This week I traveled down from New York to Washington, with stops to visit with friends in Philadelphia and Baltimore. A couple of times along the way, I’ve had occasion to think about going back to someplace I’ve already been on this journey. For example, I waited to late to make an appointment with the my primary care physician for my check-up in Boston, so I planned to come back up to Boston March 18, the Tuesday after my weekend in New York. By the time I left the Bronx, I’d already begun to reconsider. I didn’t want to drive all that way back up, only to have to come all the way back down again. I thought about riding up, either on bus or on the train, but there was the question of where I was going to put my car where it would be safe and not in anyone’s way, let alone all the getting in and getting out of both cities. So I got clear that I wasn’t going back to Boston for that then, and headed on down to Philly for two days, and two nights.

The day after I landed in Baltimore, I got a call from a friend and comrade I’d hoped to see in Philly who hadn’t gotten my message until after I’d left. The ride from Philly to Baltimore isn’t terribly far – it can be done in less than two hours – and I didn’t know when I would be through that way again. I thought about driving up to Philly for lunch and then coming back down directly into DC. As much as I wanted to catch up with my comrade, I chose to keep heading South.

In the Bible, as the angels of the Lord were leading Lot and his family out of Sodom and Gomorrah, Lots wife turned and looked back, and became a pillar of salt. No one knows what or who she was looking for – only that she was immobilized, unable to continue on the flight from the doomed cities.

I’m thinking about the many things in my life that I might choose to redo or undo. “If I could turn back time,” as Cher’s been known to sing. But so much of nature seems to be forward also. The rotation of the planet, the orbit of the earth around the sun, the turning of the seasons … all forward, without turning back.

To everything, there is a season, as is written in Ecclesiastes, and I’m training myself to bring discernment to the time to act and not to act. In a conversation a friend had with me shortly before I left Boston, he told me about the advice he had gotten from his grandmother. She told him to follow his soul, rather than his heart. The point was that the heart inclined toward sentiment and is capable of being swayed by circumstances and appearances. The soul is the home of clarity that sees what’s behind sentiment, circumstances and appearances. The heart often leads with some version of “you should”, where the soul, when we tune into it, has a clear yes or no. Often, it is a preverbal, gut response. Maybe not what the heart wants to hear, but in my experience, that’s all the more reason to pay attention.

So, I'm pressing forward. Sometimes without a clear idea of what the next stop is, but trusting in grace just the same. I'm completing a blessed weekend in the DC area, where I've reconnected with old and faithful friends, attended two Easter services -- one at the church where I had my call into ministry, and the other a Presbyterian church attended by some of my "home people." It's really amazing to have the experience of having stepped into a time warp. Very few of the faces I saw I my old church were familiar to me. My former pastors were still there, but just about everyone else I would have remembered seemed to be gone or absent. The last time I was at a service there was at least a decade ago.

The energy and vibrancy of the place, and passion of the community kept me coming back. It was good to be there on Easter Sunday, to reconnect with the spirit of generosity and inspiration that gave me my life in the ministry. Like Barack Obama in relationship to his former pastor, I don't agree with or believe everything my former pastors have to say, but I still honor them for the gifts they gave to me and their ministry, which extends to countless thousands of people.

I was just outside Philadelphia when Barack delivered his address on race last Tuesday. I admire the way he addressed the complexities of his life and put them in context, though I don't think it's fair that he is now the lightning rod for all of our country's anxieties, hopes, pain and frustration regarding some of the ugliest chapters in our history. Fortunately for us all, he's been exceedingly competent and respectful in the midst of so many attacks.