Circuit Writer

Here’s my weekly column for The Tahlequah Christian, written for the week of March 21-27.

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Nothing says Spring quite like snow drifts, driving wind, and cancelling church! Well, at least I’ve found it’s not that uncommon here in Oklahoma. Recently, in a conversation with a longtime Tulsa resident, the point was made that over the last few years Green Country received the majority of its snow in March rather than December or January. I haven’t checked the weather records to confirm or deny this, but if I were a betting man, I wouldn’t go against this one.

Yet it was the irony of this – making the decision to cancel church on the first day of Spring – that set me thinking about the equinox. Literally meaning “equal night” in Latin, it’s the day in both the Spring and the Fall that the length of the day and the night are the same. And to give you a clue as to how some of the random synapses in my brain actually fire, my mind quickly jumped from equi-nox to equi-librium. The same principle (and Latin root, too!) drives its definition: it describes any system that is considered to be in balance just as the equinox is the balance between daylight and night. So from here I began to think about the church. This is a good thing, considering that I’ve talked weather, astronomy, etymology, and physics (or chemistry – equilibrium comes from both). At some point I should probably make an effort to say something theological!

And theologically speaking, I think both of the terms I’ve been tossing around so far can speak to us as a church. Currently, I feel that we are in a position of both equilibrium and equinox. Equilibrium, often understood as a metaphor for stability, is actually not a good thing in our situation. When looking to move forward, equilibrium functions as an inertia which prevents any real progress – not unlike a truck tire that has dug out a rut in the mud and can’t escape. However, we also stand at a point of equinox – from this point forward we can move into either greater daylight or deeper night. Now I’m not naïve enough to believe that one positive step forward means sunshine from here on forward, nor am I willing to surrender to the fact that the night never ends, but it is time for us a congregation to begin that process of moving into whatever new direction the Spirit might be luring us. And I really should confess – I don’t know exactly where we’re going, but I’m excited to be a part of God’s new direction, wherever it may lead.

Walking the journey of Lent,

Clint