Rest Stops

by the Rev. Katherine Bush

 

I grew up in a family that didn’t make extra stops on road trips. We got up early and drove as far and as fast and as long as we could before we had to stop. So, I missed a lot of roadside markets, scenic overlooks, and unusual tourist traps. And when we did stop, we made sure any pause was multi-purpose and included getting gas, finding a bathroom, changing drivers, and reloading snacks. It was only later on road trips with friends from college that I came to understand that this is not how everyone travels. I was startled to find out that other people pulled over for watermelons and yard sales and obscure historical markers. And once I stopped tapping my foot and doing the math on how much later we’d now be arriving at our destination, I realized that, of course, these roadside attractions were also part of the journey.

 

Still, it’s a hard mindset to break out of, and this push-til-we-get-there mentality infuses a lot of how I live my life, even when I’m not driving to the beach. To no one’s surprise, this is actually not a great way to shape a life.

 

Which makes me the lucky beneficiary of Calvary’s practice of pausing for Eucharist every Wednesday at noon. The metaphors are manifold and somewhat obvious for how this thirty-minute pit stop on Wednesdays in the Bethlehem Chapel is akin to pulling over to refuel … 

 

We get up from our tasks, stretch, and head toward the stained-glass windows. 

 

We gather with others on their own journeys: staff from our various corners of the building alongside our neighbors and parishioners from further corners.

 

We hear some really old stories from Scripture … and often also from the annals of Christian history and lesser-known saints, which, come to think of it, are a lot like those strange and intriguing historical markers I usually speed past. 

 

We try to connect the dots between those tales from bygone days and today, tracing a map through time.

 

We call to mind our own needs and our hopes and prayers for the crooked world we live in, remembering that we aren’t the only ones on the road.

 

If it feels right, we receive prayers for healing – gentle hands to the forehead with a whispered incantation for God’s healing presence wherever we are.

 

We pass the peace with a wave to those near us. 

 

We have a little bread, a little wine, a little blessing, and then we make our way onward.

 

I am not required to attend. I could stay at my desk and keep working (on my next Calvary blog, for example). But I’ve learned – admittedly slowly – that I don’t have to drive until the gas light comes on. I miss out on something when I blow past those parking lots where people mill around “just” looking at the view. And so here, for a few minutes every week, I have the chance to pull off the track and see the bigger picture, the scenic overlook, if you will. 

 

And most importantly, I remember I’m not traveling alone. Neither are you. Come join us sometime.