The Depth of Beauty
Tears, I have always felt, are one of the most beautiful things that mark our lives as humans. Despite the messaging our culture has sometimes communicated to us (“stiff upper-lip,” etc), parts of our tradition have always seen tears as sacramental. In Homer’s Odyssey, one thing that distinguishes Odysseus from the unjust suitors he encounters is his capacity to weep. In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus weeps over the city of Jerusalem, saying “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem ... how often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings...” (Luke 13:34). Tears are an indication that we care, that something matters; and as we know, tears can be signs of deep joy as much as signs of sorrow.
Despite my love for weeping, however, I’m not sure I was prepared for the depth of beauty — the cause for tears — that met me on Sunday, August 20.
If you walked on to our campus from Glenwood Street that morning, you would have been greeted by the sight of two huge balloon bouquets: dazzling white, and towering like garlands of precious pearls or clustered grapes, framing a gable for the church door. There was a quiet anticipation in the air; and from the first notes of “Morning Has Broken” (a joyful version that would make Yusuf/Cat Stevens proud), I felt the tears begin to well. And this would become the story of that day. From the beautiful words of the opening prayer that Mary crafted — thanking God for the glory of this place we live in, and the huge-hearted generosity of our community; asking God to inspire us with the creativity and courage to spread more love within this valley — the tears began to flow. They flowed as I listened to our Sr. Warden Annie Sampson speak to the way St. John’s has become “home” for her. As Jimmy preached on the transformative impact of Browse ‘N Buy, and the ministries it houses, has for so many, the tears flowed. And, as we moved into Hansen Hall for the love feast of the Eucharist, which Brian prayed so poignantly from the heart — as I looked up over the table set with an abundance of wine and homemade bread, fruit and oil and honeycomb, to see the love shining in your faces — I wept. The tears flowed, and the thought filled my heart: this, this here, this moment, is what church is meant to be about.
We have so much to feel tears of joy for. And as we embark on this journey, to build A Legacy of Love for the Jackson community — to reach out our arms, like Jesus, to those in need, to bring warmth and nourishment and welcome to others like a loving mother hen — may we keep our hearts open, our spirits willing, so that generosity and love are not just marks of what we do, but the fact of who we are.
Love, Travis
