Dear Friends,

As I reflect upon the events of my first weeks back at St. John’s after my surgery leave – with a wedding, an ordination, and our Juneteenth celebration on three successive Saturdays – I have been filled with gratitude for all that was planned, but also by what was unplanned. I’m thinking of the people who showed up to fill roles we hadn’t contemplated in advance, the tiny glitches that led to a roomful of laughter, the interruptions that may have created short delays, but offered opportunities to shift gears, re-center, re-connect, and experience joy.

On the way toward what we expect our lives to be, things do not always go as planned – we encounter interruptions that delay and re-orient us. Learning to befriend these surprises, whether pleasant or difficult, letting them be our teacher and healer is, I believe, a key element of our growth as followers of Jesus. Because if you spend even a little time with the gospels, you will note that Jesus is interrupted a lot!

In our Gospel reading for this Sunday, Jesus is on his way to “the other side” when he is interrupted by Jairus, one of the leaders of the synagogue. Jairus has been interrupted from his busy life by his desperate concern for his little daughter who is “at the point of death,” that most notorious interrupter of all. He begs Jesus to come and touch her so that she might live. On their way they are interrupted by large crowds pressing in. A woman who has been interrupted from her normal life due to suffering hemorrhages for 12 years—the entirety of the dying girl’s life—interrupts the crowd, pushing through them to touch Jesus. He says her faith has now interrupted the flow of blood, and she can go in peace, no longer trapped in dis-ease.

What if Jairus or the hemorrhaging woman or Jesus had tired too quickly to classify interruptions as good or bad, helpful or disruptive? What if they had resisted, or judged? For me, the answer is clear: they would have never experienced the blessings of new life. Fortunately for them, and for us, they took the risk of touching and being touched by the life-giving power of losing control and trusting they were loved.

That’s what the interruptions can do for us if we let them. Interruptions can be among life’s best instructors, guiding us sometimes by gestures of affection and at other times, a firm yank in a new direction. Sometimes they are an invitation, sometimes a warning, but most of the time they remind us we are more loved than we know, more ready to give ourselves away for what really matters.

Interruptions teach us that we do not need to always know what’s next; we are part of a story much bigger than our own. This week I invite you to make room for interruptions and consider how they might be, for you, messengers of life’s best secrets.

In Christ,

Amelie+