Last week I attended my 20th High School reunion.  My friend Matt suggested I use the reunion as the theme for my sermon the following day.  I had already finished work on Sunday morning, so instead I thought I would use his advice for this blog.

Going to my reunion was an eye opening experience.  Looking at some of my classmates it’s clear that we are heading to middle age.  There is a lot less hair than there used to be.  And some of it is much grayer.  There are also fewer of us.  Out of a little over 350 students 6 have passed away in the 20 years since graduation.  Suicide, brain cancer, congenital conditions, and other causes have come to call on the class of 1995.  We’ve lost some amazing folks.  Faith communities are the places that step into the reality of our lives and deaths.  Life is short and fast and can be tragic.  We need places to celebrate life and to help us deal with our own impending death.  We need places that help us use the time we have in the ways that we are called to live.  This is what we strive to be at Sellwood Faith Community.

Beyond the realities of mortality that the reunion brought up I was once again reminded of the visceral power of music.  The DJ played hits from the early 90’s and, upon hearing Blame It On The Rain I was transported back to my junior high gym and the first awkward school dance. I remembered car rides and study breaks and singing at the top of our lungs to the radio.  I remember mixed tapes and messages sent in song.  The music of your teenage years definitely leaves its mark.  Passionate discussion about music has been present in every faith community I have served.  There is something about song that stirs us deeply.  Music is a wonderful piece of worship and its variety speaks to different people. I’m so glad that Ace and Allison have brought that gift of music to SFC.   I walk around with new songs stuck in my head all the time, and I realize that I’m learning more fully who God is in the lyrics and shared experience of both listening and singing that happen on Sunday nights or around the bonfire.

The most powerful lesson of my reunion was the one of shared history.  It was lovely to reconnect with the folks with whom I had spent those formative years.  Thanks to Facebook I know about spouses, kids, and jobs.  Thanks to my online presence folks knew about my pro-choice stance and my philosophical leanings.  It was a gift to be able to have deeper conversations and to just sit and chat about anything and everything with the people who knew me back when we were all trying to figure out who we were made to be.  Having a community who holds your story is important.  We can laugh together about our foibles, terrible hair styles, and mad crushes.  We can say words of encouragement or affirmation at the life journey of those we have seen grow over time.  We can set aside polarization and find common ground on controversial issues due to long held trust and a genuine affection for the other.  This is what the faith community captures at its best as well.  We at SFC are not all of one mind or personality.  Yet we care for one another and celebrate the growth and learning of each.  We laugh together, cry together, ask hard questions together, and challenge each other to be our best selves.  We hold one another’s stories up and show the beauty that sometimes those in the narrative cannot see.  We share a story that is thousands of years old and within it find our own stories.

I am so thankful for my time at South Salem High School.  It was wonderful and painful, angsty and crazy,  beautiful and empowering.  I am thankful for the people who continue to walk with me in this life and for the ways that teachers, administrators, and peers shaped and loved me into the person I have become.  The same could be said of Trinity UMC in Salem, Salem First UMC, Tucson First UMC, Joyce UMC in Chicago, Wesley UMC in Yakima, Des Moines UMC in Des Moines, WA, Hillview UMC in Boise, Valley UMC in Veneta, OR, and both Capitol Hill UMC and SFC here in Portland.

This is where I am from, this is who I am.  I am so very glad, bad perms and all.

Eilidh

Looking sharp- 1992 edition