2 Things after 2 Weeks

Well, Russ is the usual one to post, but I thought I'd add a word. I've had several objectives for this sabbatical: spend some real quality time with the boys, rest, read, observe, get away, restore. Well, two weeks down and I am well on my way to achieving my goals! For now, two full weeks and two aha's. Week One and the first aha: I read a book The Way is Made by Walking by Arthur Paul Boers. He is a Mennonite minister that has walked the whole 500 miles of El Caminoa de Santiago and written a book about his experience. While we will only walk the last 100 kilometers of the Camino next month, I have already been helped in our journey by "traveling" with Boers. One observation that he made is that on the Camino everyone is a pilgrim. He says, "Pilgrimages have always been spheres for folks to mix across dividing lines of culture, age, nation, class, politice, language and ethnicity. Pilgrims - like other groups on the edge of society, even those who are voluntariy marginal - cross boundaries that normally separate. Pilgrimages resist hierarchy and structure; folks temporarily suspend regular roles. Simplified dress codes, strenuous challenges and pared-down life styles, in the context of a supportive community, all contribute to what anthropologists call `liminality.' This describes a betwixt-and-between state that can help convert people from one way of life to another . . . It made sense that disintinctions elsewhere did not necessarily apply on the Camino. Sure, we might be blue or white collar, middle class or well-off. True, we were different ages. But now we were also notably similar. All of us where on a comparable quest, with corresponding struggles. We shared bathrooms and bedrooms . . . we lived simply and sweated profusely. Just as the Camino was not a place of comptetition, nor was it a place of status. Our only rank was our strong odor. Here there was no hiding behind social designations or distinctions. That too had a Gospel feel."After I read that, Russ and I headed out for a day's ride on our Harley and I realized one reason we love riding so much. It's the Harley code - the wave. When passing another Harley rider, the driver of the motorcycle points his or her left index finger toward the ground. That's it. That's the wave. The passenger does nothing. It's the unwritten code of acknowleding the commonality of Harley riders. We have no idea if the Harley folks we are passing drive 18 wheelers or are surgeons. There's no way to know if they are school teachers or pastors. Everyone is connected no matter race, class, religion, vocation, gender. And so the Camino and the Harley Davidson motorcycle made me think about church - The Church - and our church, and the strong desire I have for us to put aside all that keeps us distanced from one another so that we might truly know one another. I'm going to keeping thinking and dreaming about this.

Week two and the second aha: we were at the National Cathedral in Washington, DC waiting for the tour to begin when we decided to walk around the beautiful gardens. You'd think that 2 boys would find this boring, but they were too busy taking pictures of black squirrels and birds. (We have about 20 of the black squirrel from every angle if you want to see one!) Bennett got a great picture of a robin. He zoomed in for a great close up and the first thing he thought was that he couldn't wait to show this picture to Mr. Alan Eakes. I love that he knows that Mr. Alan loves birds. I love that he wants to share his find with his friend from church. I love that he was elated about a picture of a bird. I love that we weren't so focused on getting in line for the tour that we missed the black squirrel and the robin. I love that we shifted all of our plans for our time in Washington and took the Behind the Scenes tour of the Cathedral instead - opting to spend 4 full hours at the National Cathedral instead barely of glimpsing many sites in a hurried pace.

So weeks into this and so far so good - so very, very good.

Still reading and watching on the journey,

Amy