T Minus Four Days

In just four days I will be taking off on an adventure. On Wednesday, September 23, I will double check my list, load up my vehicle, buckle Rubi into the backseat and begin the All Souls Car Camino. I already have the destinations picked out for the first three week jaunt. The first three days will be mainly driving hard to reach my first preaching destination by the 27th. But I will have plenty of music to listen to and much to think about as well. Here are some thoughts that will be occupying my mind: 

My son. My son, Sam, just turned 25 last week. We had a small patio party, just him, and his three moms. We socially distanced—I had a corner all to myself!—and we work masks when we weren’t eating or drinking. Of course, Sam followed the new standard of placing his birthday candles into a piece of bread and blowing them out on that, facing away from the others. I think that’s one tradition that will remain forever changed, now that we really get how many germs get transmitted through breathing out! What a strange time to come to the crux of maturity, the soft spot on the back of the skull finally thickening, settling once and for all the matter of adulthood. Such an uncertain future awaits all those who are finishing school or setting out into life, hoping to find a living in it. And yet, I’m so proud of Sam, and of the man he is becoming. He takes his own path, follows his own Camino, discovering along the way who he is and where his journey might be leading. He is kind and compassionate; funny and introspective; brilliant and wiser than me. My life at 25 was so much different than his is now. I was awakening to my call to the ministry, doing in the street protests for queer rights, the pandemic facing us then was AIDS and I was losing too many friends. My future felt like the hard edge of a coin; I wasn’t sure on which side I would land, but I felt the future rushing toward me with gale force strength. Now it feels somewhat as if we’re all trudging toward the future on a treadmill; not really going anywhere but trying our best to get there, nonetheless. 

RBG. Rest in power dear, fierce, compassionate Ruth Bader Ginsberg. I had fervently hoped you could make it until January 22, 2021, but you more than deserve this rest. The love and gratitude people have for you more than showed in the incredible, record-breaking contributions to candidates who share your values and commitment to quality of life and freedom for all people. Of course, it leaves many of us also quaking in fear that this administration will hypocritically do what it refused to do when Scalia died a full 9 months before the 2016 election. Then McConnell said the next administration should decide. Today he is already saying the Senate will push through a candidate before the election. RBG, you were a shining light, a living Lady Liberty defiantly holding the torch of justice high to cast its light over the encroaching shadows of lawlessness and injustice at the hands of those who hold political power in this once great nation. A grateful nation thanks you. 

All Souls. Of course, All Souls Unitarian Universalist Church will be on my mind and in my heart as I seek new ways to bring the powerful message of justice, love, and equity to your Zoom Rooms from around the nation. I’m so proud of All Souls and how we’ve pulled together during this singular time in history---both in the last four years and in the last six months. You have continually shown up at the feast of justice and equity, the table of inherent worth and dignity and made sure there’s room for all. For Almost 130 years you’ve been a beacon of light and love, providing a compass point by which we might all navigate the moral arc of the universe, bending it toward justice. 

Location, location, location. Of course, I’ll also be thinking about where to go next, where to stay, poring over free camp site listings on public lands, or seeking out the driveway of a friend, the parking lots of Unitarian Universalist churches. I’ll be reflecting on how vast this nation is, how diverse its peoples, its topographies, its languages and cultures. I’ll be remembering the peoples who populated this land long before the Europeans showed up. I’ll be wondering what comes next in this unique experience called democracy; I’ll vow to show up the day after Election Day, regardless of the results to continue to grab hold of the moral arc, obstinately refusing to surrender it to the tyranny of fascism or joyously reaching hold with a new hope that we can yet continue to breath life, liberty, and love into this country until it reaches out in ripples of awareness to all. 

If you would like to help with Car Camino, here’s a link to my Amazon wish list. Thanks to all who have already so generously donated!