"And into the forest I go to lose my mind and find my soul.."
-John Muir
Dear Sisters and Brothers,
For two Sundays in a row I've been chasing John Muir's spirit into the forest, looking for my soul. Last Sunday a dozen of us climbed super-way-high-up into the Sierra Nevada, 9300 feet above the San Francisco Bay. We were so high it wasn't even hot! This coming weekend 62 of folks from Christ Church are headed down to Big Sur to share meals cooked over an open fire, sing songs beneath the stars, swim in the river, and share church on a beach. But I'm not done! Near the end of the month both Will and I are headed up to our annual clergy conference at the Bishop's Ranch. We'll both be camping out because that's more fun than sleeping beneath a roof. The theme of the week is "Finding Franciscan Joy in Unraveling Times." The clergy will also be gathering without the bishop to brainstorm about what we'd like to see in the new bishop. Neither of us will miss a Sunday. Then during the first week of October I'm leading twelve priests deep into the Grand Staircase/Escalante National Monument. The Escalante was the last area to be mapped by Europeans in the lower-48 states. There we'll trek 40 miles through rugged wilderness, discussing the book Trace: Memory, History, Race, and the American Landscape. We'll also pray throughout the days and share stories about what's working in our churches. I won't miss a Sunday for that either.
All this woodsiness may seem excessive. I get that. I didn't plan for all of these events to fall so close to each other, but sometimes that's how the universe works. Maybe it's a nudge from God? I don't know, but John Muir did say that “The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.” My hope for all this time beneath the clear sky of God's creation is to press my own soul into the fingerprints God left behind when she created all of this. And hopefully, in that communion, find some stories to share with all of you.
Also, I promise to shower before I see you next.
Peace,
Stephen