The Binding of Physical and Spiritual
I hereby declare Saturday to have been the first day of fall. There have been other pre-fall days in Goshen in the past week or two. The difference is that on Saturday, I witnessed what can only be described as a fall wedding. There were apples floating in buckets and the bride wore a knit shawl as we gathered a circle round them in the woods.
Really I should say it was more of a recognition ceremony as they had actually eloped a couple of months before the wedding. Impatience I guess.
In either case it was beautiful, both human and sacred, deeply focused on Jesus. And yet, even just a few years ago I might have missed it, missed the warmth of new family forming, missed reflecting on my own marriage and the joy it is, missed the wonder of communion with elements of hard cider and bread made from spent grains of beer brewed by the couple for the wedding, all administered under older-than-all-of-us trees. There was something down to and made of earth about the whole thing that put things in good perspective.
Michael Gungor puts it this way, "I am mountain. I am dust. Galaxies are made of us." There is something both very glorious and simultaneously humbling about our connection to they physical. We are breathed into in a way that I believe distinguishes us from the rest of creation, but we are still physical. In fact, my understanding of the Bible is that we will in some way continue to be physical/spiritual beings into eternity when God makes all things new.
But here in this earthy setting occupied by breathed-into-by-God wads of dust, we invited Him to come bind something into more than just earth. Physical was sown together by the beauty that fills and goes beyond all of creation. The maker began spinning something new among two of His sculptures. And whatever he makes: trees, hard cider, marriage, sex, family–we can rest assured that it is and will be most definitely good.