ON OPENING A SUITCASE...

WHAT IS IN A SUITCASE CAN SURPRISE YOU...even if you think you know what is inside. I love the story of how Ernest Hemingway, on returning to Paris after many years, entered the hotel where he had so often stayed. The manager, having made him welcome, inquired whether he would like to take possession of the suitcase he had left in storage there. Hemingway had forgotten all about the suitcase but had worried over the loss of all his notes made when, as a young man, he had lived in the Latin Quarter. On opening the suitcase, there they were! His earlier life once more revealed. These became the material for his book "A Moveable Feast".

I cannot claim such a momentous experience but when I opened my suitcase left at my sister's home containing a cache of Aussie summer clothes, I was overtaken by surprise. Suddenly I became the fellow who had packed that case, with all the feelings and thoughts that I had at that time, contemplating my return to the US! My passing through the eye of the needle was about to become a labyrinthine adventure.

You who have so faithfully followed these postings will recall that I had intended to return to live in Australia permanently but, on being here for some months, decided that I really wanted to live in the Corning area in upper New York state. I can tell you that I had lots of ideas of how that might be and, frankly, quite a deal of anxiety, not to mention a certain feeling of slight insanity about this sudden reversal.

As I surveyed the contents of that case I felt as if sucked back into a time vortex, falling through the seeming eons of change in my life since closing up that case, a brief experience akin to Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Lots of things have happened since then. Instead of building a little home for myself, I found a house just perfect for conversion into an ageing bachelor's abode with hardly a vestige of garden just waiting transformation. This story is continuing in my other Blog

I returned to the US, spent some time with my daughter in Colorado and then drove up through Glacier National Park to visit with friends first in Fort Langley BC, then in Seattle and Portland, before returning to Basalt CO. In Portland, Howard, my sometime counselor, led me to see how core to my being is traveling, a revelation to me but likely no news to you, my readers.

Then it was across a good part of the US, enjoying the first signs of Spring through the mid-western states and finally into New York state where I was welcomed by rain, rain, and more rain. Eventually I went as far as Chatham, almost to Massachusetts, to assist Richard and Gina a little with the renovations of their new home. I had little idea of the adventure I was about to embark on with my small home in Sterling Street, back in Corning.

There have been other adventures but central has been my quest for spirituality. I managed to sack the god of my early adulthood and to redefine for myself the nature of belief. A stout agnostic, tending atheist, I nevertheless faithfully attend the local Episcopal Church when at home and where I feel very much at home. I have rediscovered what it might be to be a follower of Jesus (now a very different figure compared with my early conceptions of him) and value the company of those who follow a similar course and also the connectedness I feel with those who have gone before, all the way back to his time and teachings. I am not much concerned with theology though its complexities, inconsistencies, and dilemmas I still find most interesting. I think that I am learning more than ever to respect the faith of others.

Emboldened by the suitcase experience, this last Sunday I ventured downtown (into Adelaide, the City of Churches) into Flinders Street, first of all to Holy Communion (8 AM) at Pilgrim Church. This is part of the Uniting Church (formerly Methodist, Congregational, and Presbyterian churches). I joined with 20 or so other followers of Jesus to remember the last meeting of Jesus with his followers, according to his request). The visiting speaker spoke of the partnership the Uniting Church has with other fellowships around the world, particularly in Bali where Christians are developing interfaith approaches to worship and combating the effects of global warming. Following the breaking of bread and the communal cup of remembrance, we all met for breakfast.

My next stop was Flinders Street Baptist Church for their 10AM worship meeting. In this church I was ordained to the Baptist pastoral ministry (July 31, 1964). Must have been all of 40 years since last in this place! At coffee and biscuits after, I met an amazing number of folk I had known back in those long gone days, some of whom I was hitherto sure would have since died! So, another suitcase opened with very pleasurable results.

Just goes to show, suitcase have their little surprises.