Visitations

On our way home from visiting Susan's parents (my in-laws) in Bucks County, PA, yesterday we drove through "The Christmas City" (a.k.a. Bethlehem, PA). Bethlehem was actually founded on Christmas Eve by a group of Moravian settlers.

The Moravians have always "done" the major holidays up in grand fashion, both during Christmas and Easter. Throughout Advent most every one in the central business and residential district light candles in every window of homes and shops. A huge star is lighted on South Mountain. It can be seen from almost any high vantage point through the Lehigh Valley.

Bethlehem was beautiful, as always. We drove over the Hill-to-Hill bridge that links the three distinct parts of the city (the south, west and north sides of the city). Yesterday, as with almost every time I drive this stretch of the bridge, when we turn towards the north side with Central Moravian Church directly ahead, I always think of my mother and I driving that same stretch over 40 years ago when the two of us met with Moravian College officials for my admittance interview.

The trip from Syracuse down to visit my in-laws in Doylestown provides a refresher course for my adult life. My college and first pastorate were in Bethlehem, my second pastorate was in Carversville a few miles outside of Doylestown, and we drive right by my third pastorate in Homer. Our children were born in Doylestown. My daughter graduated from Moravian College 35 years after I did.

More than this I am constantly aware of how I experienced my call to ordained ministry while singing an anthem at a college Christmas Vespers Service in Central Moravian. I remember how the folks in Carversville nurtured and taught me how to be a pastor. I certainly rejoice at how Homer helped me to grow in every way, professionally and spiritually.

I think all of these things but as I cross the Hill-to-Hill Bridge, I always think of my mother and I in her car on a snowy February Tuesday in 1966. I was anxious to get into a college (it happened to be my pastor's alma mater) after receiving several rejections. I was accepted. I graduated in four years, singing in the college choir throughout.

I don't know about you, but whenever I go to a place I find myself imagining how people who have gone before me have experienced it. The place where I live in Liverpool was a farm before the farmer sold it to a developer in the late 50's. I had a conversation with the grandson of those farmers a couple of years ago. He can remember the field that used to be where my house now stands. I wondered about the images that came to his mind's eye when he thought back to his childhood.

Several years ago I had the opportunity to engage in a spiritual retreat based on the "Spiritual Exercises" of St. Ignatius. It is a wonderful experience during which I learned the discipline of meditating on various scriptural texts, certain suggested spiritual themes and as well as delving deeply within my own soul. I admit that after almost a decade away from it my disciplined prayer life is not what it was then. Still, whenever I employ the methods that I learned, and take the time to open myself to the workings of the Spirit, it's wonderful.

I was looking through my prayer journal from that time and found the entry when I was meditating upon the Nativity. We are taught to focus on the individual characters in these stories, to even engage them in conversation if possible. I apparently decided that I would focus on Joseph. It seemed to me at the time that he was the one person in the story that might be the closest to our own perspective.

Joseph had to make some rather great leaps of faith. He knew something was up. He'd had those dreams afterall. But to believe in his heart that Mary's story was true... To believe that God had caused her to conceive this Holy child... To believe that he wasn't going to be a laughing stock... All of these things I wondered. And so, I wrote, "I sought to engage him in conversation. I found him to be a good and decen man, a trusting and generous man, willing to extend the benefit of the doubt. And he said to me, 'Rick, you just have to trust.'"

Visitations. The memories that pop up. The people who say just right thing at the right moment (even if the "right" thing is not pleasant to hear). The dreams that we have. For Joseph the visitation came in the form of a dream, and the message was clear: "God is with you." That's the meaning of this child's birth. Matthew knew it. It was the theme of his entire Gospel account: from the angel telling Joseph to name the child Emmanuel to the Risen Christ telling the apostles, 'Lo, I am with you always even to the end of the age,' God is with us.

Joseph needed to learn to trust this message. And, I learned from my meditation that I did (do), too. God is with us. "Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:39)

When I returned from leading the mission trip to southern Africa in 2006, Lawrence Gilley, a retired missionary to that region, shared this African proverb. "When you visit, we know we're alive."

Indeed. I pray for visitations of grace and peace for you tonight and tomorrow especially on this most special celebration of God's presence with us.

Blessings,

Rick Cowles