this labyrinthine journey

Last Sunday was Pentecost Sunday. The day we celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit who (literally) inspires us Christians and empowers us to continue the work God. It was an emotional Sunday, for the Derkits and several other families  are all moving on from St. Mark's to new things, new places. Having journeyed for a while int his community, we are being sent out from this St. Mark's Family. But on another level, everyone was being sent out, kicked out for a time.

One of  my favorite parts of our liturgy is the end when we are collectively sent out into the world to do what we've been shaped to do, and become the people we are being transformed into. This time, though, we were sent out so that the space where St. Mark's gathers to worship God could be transformed. The first thing to receive the kiss of spinning teeth-of-metal was the altar rail. It was sawed out to be moved into Hauser Hall where St. Mark's will worship until the renovation and restoration is complete. I caught this picture from the altar area, and it made me smile. The prayer on the kneeler, "Spare us, good Lord," set next to the beginning of the destruction. Spare us, good Lord is a futile prayer. We cannot be spared any more than we can remain in the Garden of Eden or remain innocent children or un-know a truth that has been learned. The way out of the garden and adolescence and the way into deeper knowledge is often through chaos. The creative process begins in disorder. And from disorder, order eventually arises. From within the chaos, things could look ugly, and we will necessarily be dis-oriented.

I have plans to walk a labyrinth sometime this week. The labyrinth is a winding meditation path that turns and coils. It is not a maze. Mazes are designed to trick you into getting lost. Labyrinths guide you to the center. Labyrinths have turns that sometimes seem to lead the walker away from the center, but if you continue to follow the path, and turn at what seems to be a dead-end, you arrive at the center. It is the journey, the moving, the next step that carries you, eventually, to where you are headed.

St. Mark's is going to be beautiful. Kim Renteria, who did our  portable stained glass for Between-the-Bayous is creating all the stained glass windows for St. Mark's, including a new resurrection window that will stand above the altar. This picture is a detail of the Bartimeus window, with a seeing eye. Bartimeus' sight was restored by Jesus. He was brought out of the chaos of his blindness into a new world of sight. From chaos, sometimes all we can do is trust that we will arrive at order. From lack-of-sight, we might only be able to hope for the gift of sight. It is a gift, it is grace. Arriving at the center of the labyrinth, returning to a beautiful sanctuary, hearing the story of Bartimaeus, they are all practice for the chaos we will each encounter, at some time or another, in life. They are reminders that we don't journey the labyrinthine path alone. Others have gone before, and arrived to new sight, new beauty, new center and new orientation.

I pray that we not be spared, but that through the journey we remember that God is with us, and that in the midst of the journey, we will become the people God has made us to be.