All Shall Be Well
Guest Column by
Chuck McCullough
We drove for seemingly endless miles through the verdant countryside, a couple of small boxes containing the ashes of mom and dad carefully nestled in the trunk of the car. Our destination was the old cemetery, located not far from where we had grown up, where generations of our family lay in quiet repose. Our parents had chosen this resting place years ago.
As I stepped out of the air-conditioned minivan that late summer morning, my senses were instantly assaulted by the oppressive heat and pungent, earthy smell of wet dirt, wet air, and palpable green. Countless cicadas sang in the surrounding oaks and elms.
What caught me by surprise was my emotional response to all that—a sudden, deep longing for home.
I had moved away from these rolling hills over forty years before, replacing them with high, dry, cool mountains. Yet the familiar smells and sounds of the place struck a deep chord in my soul.
The chord was amplified no doubt by the fact that this place had witnessed the birth, life, and death of my people—dirt-farming church people who handed down to their children and grandchildren an unwavering faith in Jesus.
For reasons I cannot fully explain, I suddenly missed them. This great cloud of witnesses, persons I had never known and who never imagined me, had helped shape my life—I am who I am to a significant degree because of their faithfulness. The impulse to meet them and hear their stories was almost overwhelming in that moment. I missed being home—but in that instant I realized I wasn’t sure exactly where home was.
Longing for home … I think there is a little bit of that in all of us. Most of us have lived places we loved. We lived life there … we had connections there. But life was accompanied by a tiny, niggling thought that, for some reason, this is not quite it. Life moments were colored by a sense that we may not quite be where we belong.
Interestingly, the Bible addresses the longing for home, “the place where we belong.” Scripture also introduces the idea of a unique community of people that is designed to be our home away from home. “Oh no,” you say, “Here we go: more words about how wonderful the church is. Well, I don’t want to hear it. I have no warm feelings about ‘the church’.”
I hear you: the reality of “the church” in the world has a hard edge. Churches, made up of frail humans, are capable of making themselves look foolish and/or irrelevant. They may be given to pride and prejudice. Churches can be legalistic and judgmental; they can be so besotted with tradition and inflexible theological boxes that it is hard to breathe.
On the other hand, at its best, this community is where you find people who care about you. They genuinely listen to you, laugh and cry with you, and love you for who you are (not what they want to make you into.) They will explore with you the hard life questions and invite you into the journey of discovery. This community is unlike any other place on earth.
Even more amazing, the Bible seems to indicate that the earthly church is so-to-speak, the Forward Operating Base, the outpost, of more to come. Scripture teaches that ultimately, for the one who earnestly seeks, our last and complete home is with God. Jesus wasn’t kidding when He responded to the criminal crucified beside Him, the one who asked Jesus to remember him, “Today you will be with Me.”
Does that sound irrational, needy, unrealistic, a figment of an overactive imagination? It likely sounds exactly that way to many folks. The only way you will know, however, is if you explore it for yourself: read the Book, put your head in the door and look around, talk to some calm church people. You might be surprised. You might find yourself eventually investing in that imperfect church, helping it to be more of what it is supposed to be.
We stood beside the little grave that we dug in the old country cemetery. We sang a hymn, read some Scripture, and prayed. We hugged, cried, laughed, and then we left.
The benediction? “Thanks mom and dad. See ya’ at home.”
Editor’s note: ‘All Shall Be Well’ is a column written by local women clergy including ELCA Deacon Cynthia Biddlecomb, M.Div., retired (czoebidd@gmail.com); Pastor Nicolé Ferry, Bethlehem Evangelical Lutheran Church (pastornicole@bethluth.com); Associate Priest Lynn Finnegan, The Episcopal Church of the Holy Faith, Santa Fe (rev.lynn@holyfaithchurchsf.org); Pastor Deb Church, White Rock Presbyterian Church (pastor@wrpchurch.com) and The Rev. Mary Ann Hill, Rector, Trinity on the Hill Episcopal Church (momaryannhill@gmail.com).
