Sunday Feast

Today was a feast. An amazing feast! And it began on the road early this morning.

This morning I drove into Charlottesville for my second Sunday at St. Paul's Memorial Church. In all candor, I still need my GPS to get there. I got on the road at 6:30 am, and as I drove the 15 miles into Charlottesville, I flipped on the radio on my borrowed car. The station I found was playing the Putumaya World Music hour, hosted by Rosalie Howarth. For me, this was a holy moment. Rosalie broadcasts from KFOG San Francisco, simply the greatest radio station on the planet (OK, I am biased).  For the past year,  I listened to Rosalie and Putumaya every Sunday morning on my one-hour commute to Berkeley. Home felt very close this morning.

Then something more amazing happened.

As I drove into Charlottesville, the skyline was filled with hot air balloons. They were drifting in the gentle early morning breeze just barely above treetop. What a feast for the eyes! How do they do that?

And it got better.

We did nine baptisms this morning at St. Paul's.  The joy, the celebration, the feast, the laughter burst from the pews to the ceiling. We even had two great-grandmothers of babies being baptized. We sang, we prayed, we splashed water, we had a wonderful time. This is truly a wonderful, warm, caring community.

Tonight I was celebrant at the 5:30pm service, and David McIlhiney spoke wonderfully about how there is hope for all of us and how if Peter, with all his flaws and fears can make it, we can, too.

And then I drove back to the countryside. And I was treated to a double rainbow just as I pulled down the gravel road to the home where I am staying. I only wish Lori were here for all this. Soon.