Summertide

Pastor’s Epistle—June, A.D. 2018 B

There’s something about the summer. There’s a thickness to it, a substance. Everything seems a bit more real. No less than in winter, nature refuses to be ignored. The world veritably thrums with warmth and light, the pulse of Creation—indeed more so than is comfortable. Wildflowers bloom in lush green lawns that grow an inch a day. First come the bees, then the mosquitoes, then the dragonflies to clear the air.

The sky grows far more interesting, even menacing, with mountainous cumulus clouds piling miles into the atmosphere, only to anvil out as thunderheads up high where the ice crystals still wisp through thin and frigid air. Barely an evening goes by without thunder on the horizon. I know because my dogs bark at it incessantly every single time.

Summer simmers upon the skin, imparting to our bodies that salt-sweat tang. And warm wet winds billow in, hinting at weather to come. Will it be a fire, a storm, a heatwave? The very air is thick with something I’m not quite able to name. Magic? Wonder? Life? Adventure, perhaps? Moreover, there’s something consistently amazing about the sky staying light at 10:00 p.m., along with something brutally unavoidable about sunrise peeking up at half past four in the morning.

Sadly, autumn and spring consistently get short shrift in Minnesota, casualties in the annual war betwixt summer and winter. In the cold months holidays come fast and furious. In the summer, festivals seem few and far between because—let’s be honest—the whole season is in some sense a pause from the frenzy of life. Summer is the sabbath of the seasons, if only in our hearts.

There are many summer saints of course: Boniface and Columcille; Olav in July and Lammas come August. But the king of them all is John the Baptist, Forerunner of the Messiah, cousin and co-worker of Jesus Christ our Lord. His birthday, right about the summer solstice, is one of only three celebrated on the Church’s calendar (the other two being Jesus and Mary). He precedes our Lord in all things: in birth, in ministry, and ultimately in death. His birthday marks six months until Christmas—from the time the sun begins to wane until it starts to wax again—fulfilling John’s prophetic words: “He must increase, but I must decrease.”

We’ll be celebrating Johnsmas in style this year, with a party and a picnic on June 24. We might even have a fire, depending upon the weather. For those who can’t make it, never fear: we have plenty of worship opportunities, what with the folk service on even Sundays, Communion on the odd, and Bible studies both Sunday and Tuesday. Also, as a reminder, we’re trying out Wednesday vespers through the month of June. I haven’t quite come up with a topic for the series yet, but I’ve confidence that the Spirit will move and the Word will work.

May God bless you richly this summer, at home, by the lake, and here in the Church. Our pace changes, but our mission together remains the same: to be Christ for a world still very much in need of Him, bound together in His Body and through His Spirit, by Word and water, Body and Blood. I’ll see you this summer at the Altar.

In the Name of the Father and of the +Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.