Vision and All Saints

Day Three--Thursday, May 5

All sacred journeys are best marked by ritual ceremony. Before leaving the people of St. Aidan’s, all three worshipping communities in the parish surrounded me, anointed me, laid hands on me, and offered prayers for me for the journey and for my time away from them.

The cruise is the first part of my journey, fourteen days of Sabbath, where I am slowing down, resting, catching up, preparing myself to encounter the Holy. In Assisi, I will begin the next stage of my journey, where I hope to treat everything that comes my way as an essential and (perhaps providential?) pieces of the Sacred that God has prepared for me.

This is a wonderful start, but I still need to figure out what the broader theme of my journey will be, how all the pieces fit together, and where and how I will formally start my pilgrimage in Europe. I will begin my journey in Assisi, the first stop after I depart the ship on May 16. I recently rediscovered St. Francis, the Patron of the city where I live, during our Community of Travelers worship service at St Aidan’s. Pastor Megan sang a version of the “Prayer of St. Francis” which helped me realize anew that the Christian life is very simple, but very hard. In Assisi, before the cross where Francis had a vision of Christ asking him to “rebuild my church”, will ask a Franciscan to offer me a blessing.

In my rest and renewal so far, a very clear vision has come to me, which I hope is the beginning thread of a larger theme for my journey:

In my mind’s eye, I see a “U” shaped stage, and at the front of the stage is a very thin vertical curtain. The curtain is slightly parted, with an old timey microphone at the center of the stage. Behind the curtain are many, many people who are all trying to stick their heads out to sing. It is an exciting atmosphere, with dramatic colors of blue and grey cloaking the frenetic energy of the willing participants eager to get on stage. Only one person at a time can share a song or story. I am not able to make out any one figure, but they all seem familiar. To me, this is a vision of the communion of saints, those cheering me on in this journey.

I am wondering: what songs, what stories are the saints of my life, both living and dead, wanting to share with me now? I am often so “busy” with ministry that I forget to pause and hear their heavenly chorus. Could I take this sacred time, this time of rebuilding, to remember and visit with the many saints of my life at each stop along my journey?

At each Holy place I visit, might l pause to remember a saint of my life who has now passed--family and friends such as my mother and father, along with cherished professors and mentors such as Letty Russell (liberation theologian), Aidan Kavanagh (liturgist), Gerald Minor (my mentor priest at Christ Church, New Haven when I was Yale Divinity School who died of AIDS), Bishop Ott (the Roman Catholic Bishop of Baton Rouge who was key to my formation as a young person), and, of course, Archbishop Oscar Romero?

As well, might I also remember a saint of my life who is still living, offering a prayer for each and reconnecting with them in some meaningful way (most likely by sending a handwritten letter, since email seems so impersonal and telephone calls are cost prohibitive!)?

I will continue to wrestle with this possible theme trusting in the Spirit and St. Francis to guide me.