Sanctuary

The Pacific Northwest, where I live, is the destination for millions of pilgrims every year. They flock to sanctuaries with names like Duwamish and Skagit and Nisqually- sacred sites where bones lie and where healing and new life occur, They bear names like chinook, coho, sockeye, and chum. This weekend I made a pilgrimage, with friends, to the sanctuary at the mouth of the Nisqually River. Through efforts made by many in the last several years, it is being restored to its past glory. Where barriers to these waterborne pilgrims had been constructed, turning fertile tide lands into dry soil, the water now flows again and with it flow the salmon who are drawn here by a strong force within. Some species will travel as far east as the Sea of Japan before returning home to places like this. Without yellow arrows or any traditional markers to follow, they are guided by smell and by other innate senses given to them by their Creator. To me, it is mystery and wonder. And, in my way of seeing, it is highly symbolic. A Lutheran theologian by the name of Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said that "when Christ call us, he calls us to come and die." We discussed this at the last "Theology on Tap" group that I hosted, and I wondered if the pilgrimage of northwest salmon is a helpful insight into what he is talking about. By nature, their journey is sacrificial. They come to die so that new life can occur. This is a challenging and hopeful image that I want to take with me into the new week. Coming full circle, however, I want to do this within the larger image of sanctuary. We can only live life in this way when we know that we have a spiritual home that is safe and life-giving. I welcome any thoughts you may have on this.

I Have Called You by Name

On her first day in Cameroon, my daughter, Sonja, walked into the center of the capital city. Amidst all the street noise and the crowds of people, she heard someone call out "Sonja!" It was completely unexpected! For her, this was a city of strangers. Then she saw the face of the person who had befriended her at the airport in Paris and who had promised to help her reach her destination. It was a joyful moment! For all pilgrims, the importance of names and faces can never be understated. It connects with our desire to know others and to be known by them. To the pilgrim people of Israel, God said "I have called you by name" (Isaiah 43:1) It was a promise to stay in relationship with them throughout every stage of their journey. This, along with Sonja's story, makes me want to be more intentional about learning and remembering the names of people I meet in my daily pilgrimage. A standard pattern of mine is to ask a person what their name is and then fail to enter into my memory bank. And, then, since I have asked, I am embarrassed to ask again. But today, I am imagining how good it must have been for Sonja to hear her name called out in the middle of that urban wilderness. With that in mind, I will try the practice of saying each person's name at least once when I am speaking to them. It's a small step, but that is how all journeys begin.

Etrangers et Voyageurs sur la Terre

I'm thinking of a French song today. It is one my wife and I learned many years ago when we were working with the international community in Paris. The title, "Etrangers et Voyageurs sur la Terre", is drawn from a passage in the book of Hebrews which describes people who embraced the promises of God and confessed that they were "strangers and pilgrims on the earth". It comes to mind because my daughter, Sonja, left Paris this morning to spend more than three months in Cameroon, the country where we lived when she was a small child. "We go where God leads", the song says. And we never go alone. Even before she boarded the plane, a Cameroonian couple befriended Sonja and pledged to be her companions until she was safely at her destination. Those who cross North Africa by land know that this kind of companionship is essential. Cars arriving at the northen edge of the Sahara always stop and wait until there are enough others to form a small convoy. Before that chance encounter, they are all strangers, but in the journey across the desert they become a band of interdependant travelers who are ready to share precious resources like water, fuel, spare parts, or anything else necessary for survivial. Most passengers on today's Air France flight that crossed the Sahara may not feel the same comraderie, but I am thankful for the ones who do, and for this gracious couple who saw a new pilgrim and chose to walk by her side.

Getting started

Starting a blog feels like stepping onto a well-worn path that has been traveled by countless pilgrims before me. I know that I am not alone in my desire to share my journey with others, because most variations of the words "pilgrim, pilgrimage, and journey" were already claimed when I sought a name for this blogspot. My goal in this venture is to share what I am learning and discovering from day to day in ways that invite reflection and inspire renewal. Buen camino!