Sitting with my parents and aunts and uncles at family gatherings, stories of our family would bubble up. They would retell of my great-grandmother emigrating from Sweden—through the St Lawrence Seaway and Chicago—en route to the Lutheran commune in Bishop Hill. Or, of the one-room schoolhouse they all attended until they reached the age for high school. Sometimes the stories were told with mischief and intrigue. As an adult, I now can imagine the hard truth of heartache and sorrow also embedded within these stories. Through the retelling and remembering, patterns emerge of learning to make the best; the best of where they were and the best of where they were going.
I don’t know who I would be, if not for the stories of my family. The same is true of our Ancient Modern Family. We retell stories of the early church and the early Israelites, to know of our past and also to see ourselves in God’s covenant.
This week we will hear the story of an unbelievable prison escape. I imagine you have never heard this story before, but when you do, you will hear echoes of the past, as well as see your own life in a new light. A hopeful light. These are the stories of which we are made. Come, listen, imagine.
I look forward to seeing you at 8 or 10 a.m. worship ,
Jo Forrest, Associate Minister of Congregational Care