A Trinity of Wondering

I wonder sometimes at our ability to take some living, breathing thing and cast it in stone or print and thereby suck the life out of it. That sounds awfully dark and Halloween inspired, but it’s actually the celebration of the next day that’s inspiring my wonder.

November 1 is All Saints Day on the church calendar. We made being a "saint" something to achieve with a lifetime of righteousness, a miracle or two, and most certainly something in the distant past. We put "St." in front of their names, built churches we named after them, and built statues. We literally cast them in stone. And, don't get me wrong, when we hold up those stories as examples of living as Jesus taught, as examples of living well with God and the world, that's great, but what about that saint you work with, or live with, or go to church with or play hockey with?

I’ve said it before: I think we're surrounded by saints. I think every one of us is "saint material." We are each blessed with God's presence and the capacity to love.  We can be saints in this moment and inspire saintliness in others, here and now. We don't have to wait. Nor do we have to be famous or provide a grand gesture, act or example of our sainthood. Nor do we need someone else’s stamp of approval. We can each do it right now in this moment.

Try this: look around you. I bet you know some saints. Get to know some living, breathing examples of good. Be a living, breathing example of good.

I keep wondering. I wonder about the Bible, too. It should be a living thing whose stories speak to us about what is true and right. It should be teaching us how to live together and build positive relationships with God, the world and each other right now. But sometimes it's just a book. (It's literally not, by the way, it's more of a collection of books.  Like a library.) Sometimes it's a book that's held up as some kind of powerful icon wielded by people who tell you what's in it. It seems that, while more Bibles are being purchased, in more forms and languages than ever before, less and less people are actually reading it. So the Word has become more accessible, but we're reading it less. 

Try this: read the Bible. Think about how it speaks to you. Then see what others have to say about it. You'd do that with other books, or movies, even tv shows. Why not the Bible?

Or how about the church itself. It's become such an institution, with structures and doctrines and forms and traditions, that we often have to fight to keep it the living, breathing community it's meant to be. It ought to be about people, loving and caring for people, gracefully and compassionately building relationships, helping each other and gratefully sharing each moment of living. No, it's not a building, but sometimes we need a place to gather and support our community. No, it's not a stodgy, stuck in the past remnant of something whose time is done, but sometimes stories and traditions from the past speak to us in the present in ways which have meaning. We worry that this thing we know is dying, but we also believe in new life and the beginning and ending of things.

Try this: go to church. Maybe more than one. See if the experience speaks to you, see if you share something with the people there. See if you feel you belong there. Maybe you don't. But how will you know unless you try? I wonder.