February's Newsletter Article

Dear Friends,

As I write, I am sitting in a large log hall waiting for a group of seventh graders to return from a cross-country ski. We are at an outdoor education center and summer camp about a quarter of a mile from the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in northern Minnesota. I first came here when I was twelve to go on a five-day canoe trip and then came back every summer until I was 24 years old in some capacity or another. Each of the cabins is labeled with a sign that I carved when I was twenty. I am as familiar with these old buildings and these acres as with any place on earth. When I come back, I feel like I return to a piece of myself that resides here.

It is interesting to be here with people who have never been here before, and to go out on snowshoes with young staff people who don’t know who I am and who don’t know I consider this home. This is my home, and it is being inhabited by strangers. I am watching them do things exactly as I did them 20 years ago—playing the same games, walking the same trails, sitting on the same benches—and my heart is so soft. I can almost feel time passing and time standing still simultaneously. I sometimes have to resist a proprietary feeling—like this is MY place and these new people don’t belong here the way I do. But then I remember that this is the beauty of this place: it exists beyond me. Its job is to carry ways of being forward. It is still my home, I still belong here, AND so do these whipper-snappers.

They’ve also made some changes at camp. The hall I am sitting in is twice as big and is winterized after a capital campaign four years ago. I believe I can remember when it didn’t have electricity. It looks and feels strange to my nostalgic eyes, but I have to admit, the program works much better this way.

All of this has made me reflect on the life of the church. I hope we can be true to what our predecessors built and successfully passed on, while also allowing for needed changes to be made. As the church continues to move forward and incorporate new people and new ideas, I hope we will do the work of institutions: remembering both that we are merely passing through *and* that it cannot survive and grow without us. I hope we will all imagine our predecessors watching us and believe that they could return and, in the most important ways, feel at home.

Faithfully,

Katie