The Visit

The building seems smaller now, as if its physical size somehow had shrunk along with its significance. This is no looming Mount Sinai, just a simple structure that is lovingly maintained by people who have grown up sitting in its pews. There is probably no other single place, outside the childhood home, in which a typical Laestadian will spend as many hours of his life. It is not just empty talk to call it a spiritual home, a sanctuary.

Just as pangs of nostalgia fill the adult believer who sees the humble house where he ran and played with a swarm of siblings and harassed parents, the sight of the church evinces its own memories grown fonder with time: beloved old preachers with their sleep-inducing sermons and funny habits, weekly gatherings of lifelong friends, hasty communal lunches with fellowship shouted over the squalling of fussy babies. God’s Kingdom nourishes the spirit with the unchanging Word, and the body with hot dish and Sloppy Joes, iceberg lettuce and ranch dressing. Variety is not a prominent feature of either menu, and that makes the memories uncomplicated, easy to come by.

"You've Just Got to Keep Your Mouth Shut"

Readers, I hope your summer is going well. Ours was supposed to be "lazy" -- no camps for the kids, lots of sleeping in and going to the beach -- but somehow we've managed to pack tons of activity into the past two months. We've taken road trips, hosted out-of-town visitors (including three former Laestadians), attended Sami-related events, and travelled to a family reunion. All of it very enjoyable, including our stay on an urban farm in Portland where we were wakened by roosters. (The sound was charming at first, and then . . . frankly, annoying.)