Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:

Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ!

We are in one of those far-off places.

Margaret River, a four-hour drive south of Perth, then five hours by plane from Melbourne, seventeen hours from Dallas, and another couple hours from Albuquerque, then the hour drive home to Santa Fe.  Yes, it’s a far-off place and as “far off” as I have ever been.

Margaret River is a community tucked in the southwestern corner of Australia. When telling friends in Melbourne of our itinerary, they would say with a light in their eyes (did I detect a bit of envy in their voice?) “Margaret River? Oh, that’s beautiful!  Lovely place. Haven’t been there but have always wanted to go.”  It was the response we heard each time, and with good reason.

Margaret River, a quaint downtown with a hippie past and a comfortable, well-to-do present.  Margaret River, surrounded by forests and wineries and farmland with cows and goats and kangaroos lazily resting in fields. Margaret River, close to the coast of the Indian Ocean and known for its world-class surfing.  Margaret River, with restaurants and coffee places and parks at every turn.

Now I was about to say Margaret River with no churches in sight. Indeed, I have seen little evidence of churches, save an old church building here and there, with one now a store and cafe. But I caught myself before I began a lament, and deleted the trail I was going down. Who am I to say that faith is absent here because I don’t see many churches?  Who am I to lament the supposed absence of church life when I really have no idea of its presence. It could be alive and well, for all I know.  And that’s the point . . .  I don’t know.

Barbara Brown Taylor wrote a book a few years back called An Altar in the World, A Geography of Faith, that helps us notice sacred places in the world. With such eyes the world becomes alive, brimming with possibilities, a virtual panorama of the sacred in ways and places we might not expect.  My long-felt anxiety of losing the church as a center for the sacred has lifted, at least a bit, maybe more. My eyes are beginning to adjust. God’s canvas is much larger than a building and a congregation and includes the world, in its brilliance and its sorrow.  God is there in either, in both, in the beautiful places where it is easy to imagine God had a hand in their formation, and all those other places where we want to be someplace else.

Remember Psalm 139?  Starting in verse 7, the Psalmist asks, “Where shall I go from your Spirit?  Or where shall I flee from your presence?  If I ascend to heaven you are there!  If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!”  Even if I travel to the farthest ends of the earth you are there!  In Australia, even.  Margaret River especially.  In all the places we are yet to go, you will be there.

So, the adventure continues, not only here in Australia for a few more days, but in living these days with eyes-in-training to see the sacred. I hope the more I look, the more I will see, and the more I see, the more I will understand that we are living in a world shimmering with the sacred.

Grace and peace, and deep thanks for giving us this opportunity to see, in such a far-off place as this.

Harry