I look up and across the Youth Center room, and on a big huge wipe on/wipe off board I see this:
Oh no, that's from Sunday school this morning. We made sandwiches for the hungry. But I guess the two kind of go together, don't they?
I'd say. Buechner for youth Sunday School and youth group. How sweet is that.
Our church has strong ties to Buechner. It goes back to a long-time pastor who was close friends with Frederick. He was the featured speaker at a few of our church's fall Montreat retreats. Buechner quotes are framed and hanging at various places around the church. Older church members reminisce about something he said, or something of his they read, and smile. The essence of the man runs deep at 3115 Providence.
I dig this quote. Especially the fact that it was shared with a bunch of 6th through 12th graders. That part at the very end carries some serious weight, doesn't it? A journey without maps. What does that even look like? I imagine the Sunday school teacher answering that question with a resounding, Precisely. In a world where we teach our young (because we do a darn good job of modeling it ourselves) to schedule everything, plan out everything, set goals and have a destination in mind, how crazy awesome is it to pitch an entirely different trajectory when it comes to spiritual matters.
We live in a GPS world; but faith is, as F.B. so eloquently observes, "a journey without maps." Contrary to popular belief and televangelistic testimony, it's not about the destination but the little steps along the way - steps that are meant to be savored, pondered, treasured. A verb rather than a noun. An action rather than a subject or object.
My son and I get in the car and pull out of the parking lot, heading home. How was youth? I ask. Good. We made sandwiches for the hungry. We're making more next week.
A journey without maps indeed.