Today is April 20th. Downtown Denver is preparing for 20,000 happy weed smokers to gather in Civic Center Park. Native Foods, my favorite vegan eatery, sent out a 4-20 Munchie Special— I am in, even though the last Pot I smoked was before Bill Clinton “did not inhale”. I am also remembering 20 years ago when I had been at South Broadway Christian Church for two years as pastor, and my “dial-up” internet sent out a news bulletin that there had been a “mass-shooting” at Columbine HS in Littleton. We opened the church doors to 100’s of folk who just needed some place to go. Twenty years later the “norm” has shifted. The skunky smell of marijuana is a daily occurrence and I am grieved that just in the US, we have had 11 mass shootings in 20 years. The paradox (too small a word) is not lost on me.
So today, (the Saturday between ‘Good Friday’ and Easter 🐣) this pastor-Lyft driver will live and drive in the crucible of stoned passengers and memorial flowers. I am learning not to try to resolve this cacophony of memory and experiences into something that I can understand. Rather, my Lyft driving keeps me in the moment. Between rides I will be thinking of my sermon tomorrow, “Why Do You Seek the Living Among the Dead”? I am going to opposing directions with that question. 1. I am thinking of all the ways I (we) try to find life where there is not life. 2. And all of the times when life (grace) has shown up in the voice of those who just say “Thanks for the ride”.
For the next two weeks I am headed to Italy, Greece, Croatia, and Montenegro. I hope to write a bit while I am there. The Cystine Chapel awaits, but I am just as excited to grab a local taxi and say “Show me the places in your home that bring life to your heart” .
Onward and Upward and ARRIVEDERCI❤️,
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