Monday, June 23, 2008

God Always Finds a Way - "Bridge Over Troubled Water"


I am drawn to waterfalls. When I take inventory of the number of waterfall hunting guides available for purchase then I quickly surmise that I am not alone in this passion. I borrowed such a guide to find Wallace Falls this morning. Just west of Stephens Pass on Washington Highway 2 rests the sleepy town of Gold Bar. Turn north in the middle of this bend in the road, head through a small residential area and up the mountain and you will arrive at Wallace Falls State Park.

The trail is underwhelming as it leaves the small parking area following the crackling of open overhead power lines, but then turns into the forest and becomes a bit more inviting. The trail soon splits. The 'high' trail is an old railroad bed which is therefore graded for the walker. The 'low' trail is bit more arduously navigated along the Wallace River and is designated for "hikers." I'm in this for the adventure. I took the low trail, i.e. the trail less traveled. Robert Frost would have been proud.

I can study waterfalls for hours. It is a spiritual exercise for me. I wonder how it is that the rivers or streams first searched out their route and how many thousands of years it took to cut such a trough in the earth. This morning I pondered these matters more deeply than usual knowing that I would be writing you this evening. I believe the essence of my passion is this...i.e. I love that the water finds its way regardless of whatever obstacle might threaten to frustrate its progress. I admire the water. It reminds me of God's Spirit.

In Gold Bar I noticed two church buildings that were no longer serving to harbor churches. The first building was cause to pull over and snap my first photo of the day. I discovered only later that some varmint had apparently monkeyed with my aperture setting during the night and failed to inform me, so the shot was grossly overexposed. So while I can't share it with you, I can describe it. This old, white wooden building sported a traditional steeple, but no cross. It had apparently been removed. Upon the side of the steeple was a banner advertising the art studio and shop inside. My guess is that these weren't liturgical arts.

In one way I am concerned for the church culture. Dave Lind sends a wonderful link from USA Today that describes well and alarmingly the current state of matters (
http://www.usatoday.com/news/religion/2008-06-23-pew-religions_N.htm?csp=34). But don't read what I'm not writing. While I am concerned for the church culture, the waterfall reminds me not to despair for the church. It is, after all, Jesus' church. It will endure. 'The gates of hell will not prevail against it," we sing. It shall be there, in some form, at the end of time to greet the returning Savior. Just as the water finds a way, so shall the church. But I suspect that the church that Jesus will greet on his second advent will look much different than the church of today. Just as I imagine what the waterfall might have looked like a million years ago, I wonder what the church of Christ might look like when my great grandchildren are a part of it.

Wallace Falls are quite impressive. There is little perspective to the photos I shall try to post, but the waters you hopefully see are plunging some 180 feet into the basin before rushing down the gorge. It was a wonderful arena in which to spend the morning and about 6 miles of hiking/climbing.

The banana and coffee cake that I had for breakfast at the Hoffman's before leaving Seattle was wonderful, but was spent about half way up the falls, so by my early afternoon return I was eager to make lunch of anything edible. Lunch was an old tuna sandwich and a few granola bars from the corner Shell Station. A few more hours on the highway placed me in the town of Chelan where my dear ole friend Paul gave a warm, gracious welcome. Paul, Virginia and three of their four children live in the parsonage next door to Lake Chelan Lutheran Church where Paul serves. Don't bother looking for their website. There is none. This is a wonderful, small, A-framed building where 50-80 folks gather for one service on Sunday morning. Paul has served here for 10 years. As we walked about town he called out to dozens of persons by name. I wasn't sure if he was pastor or mayor. ..or both.

I will blog again tomorrow evening, and perhaps Wednesday, and then I will be out of touch from Thursday late morning until Sunday morning. I have told you about Stan and Sandy. They own a small cabin about 20 minutes from Chelan where they host persons on spiritual retreat. They are especially pleased to pray for pastors. There will be a rite when entering this experience wherein Sandy will pray for me. Then I will spend the next days ambling about the mountains, praying to the Creator, and being served meals by this gracious couple. Darkness comes late here. Perhaps this is good as there is no electricity in this one-roomed cabin. "What is the fee for this?" I naively asked Paul. "Fee?! There is no fee," he replied. "This is their ministry, man!"

I think now again of The Shack, the novel of which I wrote to you yesterday. I wonder if I, too, might have some experience of the Trinity in this cabin. I'm counting on it. God always finds a way.





No comments: