Waves

I hiked out to Lena Point yesterday. It is what we like to call an Auntie Whit hike: short with big pay off. 

Lena Point trail ends at a bluff where you can watch sea lions, whales and beautiful scenery. I'm borrowing the following detailed information from the Juneau Empire, because details evade me.

There are dramatic views south to Admiralty Island and north to the snowy Chilkat Mountains.

In the early morning hours of Sept. 7, 1952, the 352-foot ship Princess Kathleen sailed into the rocks off Lena Point, going 9 knots. All 307 passengers and 80 crew members managed to climb ashore. The next afternoon, the ship slid stern-first off the rocks. She now lies on her port side, with the bow only 45 feet below the surface and the stern about 145 feet.

Dramatic views and a shipwreck. It doesn't get much better than that on a Sunday afternoon hike. But the thing I loved were the waves. The wind was whipping and the waves were crashing so wildly they splashed me standing on the cliff. I'd tell you how high that is to truly impress, but distances also evade me.

So, I'm standing there with the wind whipping and the waves crashing surrounded by dramatic beauty and destruction. It was enthralling and terrifying all at the same time. I wanted to remain in that moment with the chilly salt water and wind knocking the breath out of me, communing with the wreckage of the Princess Kathleen and the splendor of snow cap mountains, but I had to pee and strong winds and peeing do not go well together.

Naturally in the moment, I was thinking of Rudolph Ottos' description of the holy, "Mysterium tremendum et fascinans" That's the only Latin I know, but it sounds more impressive than the "tremendous and fascinating mystery." 

The holy is something that is terrifying and captivating, overwhelming and alluring, tremendous and fascinating. The holy is something we cannot explain or control, but it draws us in and scares the snot out of us.

I was recently thinking about why I'm a pastor. Other people might wonder this on a regular basis. I'm not particularly well behaved, or preachy, or drop Jesus' name into every conversation. I'm unsure of most things and there are times the Church makes me want to scream, but I am called and find great meaning as a pastor. 

Sometimes I feel like the main thing I get to do is create spaces and experiences where folks are open to bumping into the holy.  The church is at her best when folks are drawn into a mystery loved as they are and willing to risk ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. 

The last part is one of my favorite prayers from morning prayer. The rest of it goes, "Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord."