December 2, 2007:  You Can Run But You Can't Hide
Matthew 24:36-44, Psalm 139:7-12
Eileen Parfrey  --  Springwater Presbyterian Church

Exegetical background to reading the Matthew passage:

The gospel-writer Matthew was concerned to describe the Kingdom of God. In answer to the early Church's concern, "When will Jesus come in glory, and what are we supposed to do in the meantime?" he includes Jesus' account of apocalypse. The purpose of apocalypse is to encourage followers to remain faithful; God is indeed coming to save. Apocalypse begins Advent because its metaphor/story reminds a) that we'll see in the flesh what God has promised (we know where we're heading); b) there's a war out there, and we're on the winning side. The answer to the question, "When is Jesus coming?" is that delay is a time of grace, and his return is postponed so that all may hear and accept the good news. The answer to "What are we to do in the meantime?" is to stay busy at one's daily activities, but make sure you are "ready" for the return, before it's too late to prepare.

Speaking of dreams and flesh, it happened in Red Wing, Minnesota. The Red Wing Pottery Sisterhood of Retired Plate Painters put flesh to their dream last summer. The RP Sisters of RPs (as they were known) had dreamed of touring the rosmaling sites of Norway since they'd lunched together as young women working together at the Pottery. Their Noon Hour Specials (the plates they painted for their own use, not for sale) utilized that peculiar Scandinavian folk painting style called rosmaling, while their day shift work was all in moderne. Perfecting rosemaled petals and leaves on personal work, they longed for mid-century Midwestern American's equivalent of the pilgrimage to Mecca. The Pottery closed in 1952, but they honed and focused their dream through 55 years of monthly potluck reunions, while loading their plates with Jell-O salad and tuna hotdish. Recalling their parent's youths, they rehearsed folk museums and ancestral homes they would visit in The Old Country. Last summer, in consideration of their health and ages, it was now or never.

The plan was to meet in the Lindbergh Terminal at the Twin Cities airport, two hours before boarding. Of course, there were the inevitable few (predictably the Peterson cousins) who arrived four hours before the flight. You could count on the Peterson girls to be early to anything, but you could also count on the Peterson girls to not quite make it. Every last one of them missed the gate agent's boarding call, because they were laughing so loudly at Kjersti's stories that they didn't hear. Normally, Gerda was their official listener, but her hearing aid batteries had gone out, and she had to go back to the car for spares. Why she didn't carry spares in her purse was beyond any of them, but you don't hear the call, you're not getting to Norway. Veryl, on the other hand, had cut the time too close and was still circling the Economy Lot when the plane took off. In her search for the perfect place to leave what she didn't need, she never even left the ground.

Then there were the Sisters who missed the call due to simple mix ups, like Frieda and Bonnie who were in Starbucks and lost track of the time. There was plenty of time to spare when they left the gate area, so it didn't occur to them to be prepared for it to march on. The crazy Wisconsin contingent had realized they weren't prepared for the demands of reciprocal hospitality, because they hadn't brought hostess gifts, so they were at the Hello Minnesota store, picking up a few souvenirs. Gina and Anna were so close, but what they couldn't believe was that they needed their passports of their own. Their parents had been born in Norway, and the Old Country had loomed so large in their home life, it had never occurred to them they couldn't just coast on their parents' coattails, that they would need to gain their own entry.

Eleanor was still at the ticket counter at flight time, reducing her luggage weight. Concerned for safety and preparation for every eventuality, she took clothes for all seasons, first aid supplies, a tea kettle for afternoon pick-me-ups in her hotel room, voltage adapters for all her appliances, English-Norwegian dictionaries, a cooler and camp stove, portable water purifier and fire extinguisher. Who knew international flight weight restrictions could be so persnickety? She was still trying to talk the agent into letting her hold things on her lap when the irony overtook her-missing the flight because of personal safety precautions. Marlene had also come with too much stuff, and she was trying to get rid of it, but as soon as she talked through contingencies with one group of travelers, another group came along with different advice. She missed the call while spreading out her clothes and underwear and toiletries in front of God and everybody.

Tulig was "a smart packer," which meant everything necessary for two weeks of travel fit into one carry on. Once done, though, she ran into trouble refusing to concede the 3 ounce container rule for gels and liquids. Her shampoo was not available in Europe, and 3 ounces would not last two weeks. She insisted, "An exception has been made in my case!" but the TSA guards were unsympathetic. When they confiscated her contraband, she stormed out of the airport, still claiming personal exemption. Louise had watched this with a great show of her self-righteousness, urging others to "play by the rules." But when TSA said she could either check her quart of brandy as luggage or mail it back home, she insisted it was for medicinal purposes and needed to be carry on. As the airport police hauled her off, she shouted, "Only obey the good laws!"

Despite this recital, many of the RP Sisters of RPs did make it to Norway. This "trip of a lifetime" put flesh to a dream they'd nurtured all their adult lives. The ones who made it were the ones who were alert to the time and prepared for the details, who took into account the limitations imposed by the nature of what they were up to. They were the ones who didn't just obey the good laws, the ones they agreed with, but who acknowledged there were powers higher than themselves who see a bigger picture. These were the ones who were focused enough on fleshing out their dream that they asked the right questions-will I really need snorkel gear in the fjords?-and were attentive enough to recognize answers and clarifications when they came. They researched and studied where they were going, took into account the stories of those who have gone before, then considered how what they learned applied to their actions. They recognized it was their own trip they were taking, and not living out someone else's past. These are the ones who not only risked going, but who left behind what they were not going to need for the actual trip. Who tuned in their listening and didn't rely on others to notice the call. Who didn't allow distractions to throw them off track. They were in the right place at the right time, and they were prepared.

For most of these women, dreaming that trip had shaped their lives. It had focused their time together as they dreamed their longings into something specific. The dream had carried them during rough marriages and kids that drove them nuts. It had connected them to their parents' stories that formed their values. The dream had been comfort when they lost the old folks, bound them together as a group, and given them all a stake in making it come true. But only the ones who were prepared-who were at the right place at the right time, who heard the call and stepped through the door-only those prepared were the ones able to participate. When you stake your life on something, you'd better be prepared to experience it when if finally comes in the flesh. Otherwise, what's the point?