A midnight phone call elicits a tinge of fear to almost anyone; a midnight phone call from your teenager sends a spike in adrenalin; a midnight phone call from your teenager sobbing brings sheer terror; a midnight phone call from your teenager sobbing about something you can't fix causes a sleepless night, a great deal of prayer, a lot of reflection, and a blog post.  I got that phone call last night....

Yesterday afternoon three of my four children left for All Saints their home away from home.  The place about which one of my children routinely says, "it's the only place I'm religious."  But he also says, "it's the place where I found my faith."  In our family we begin counting down the days to the next All Saints trip the afternoon we get back from the current one, so I was completely unprepared for the phone call.

It broke my heart to hear, between sobs, "I have no friends here except John MacLean." (Thank you dear John--you continue to bless our family.)  And, "I shouldn't have come.  It's not the same."  As her Mama I knew what she was really saying and so I said, "It's really hard being there without Mason isn't it?"  While this question unleashed another torrent of tears, it also affirmed the feelings. After a few moments I followed the question up with, "What other girls are there?"  Between sobs she replied, "I'm in a room by myself because they are all inseparable and so enthusiastic!  "Sweetheart," I said, "they are the next generation of you and Mason.  Ya'll followed the Paige/Rachel's and behind these girls come the twins/Caroline/Maria.  And it will go on and on and on because these relationships are what are formed at All Saints and they last a lifetime.  But these relationships are formed so that you can change the world.  This is a time of change for you, a huge transition."  I thought to myself, "It's like the 36 hours of labor to birth you--lots of pain but so worth the effort.  A new life springing forward."  After we hung up, as I said, I didn't sleep.  I hope she did.

The pain SK felt last night caught me by surprise, but it shouldn't have.  I know how much she deeply loves and needs All Saints.  For her college applications she has to answer the question, "Describe a place or environment where you are perfectly content. What do you do or experience there, and why is it meaningful to you?"  And without thinking twice, having traveled the world, SK chose All   Saints on the outskirts of Leitchfield, KY.

As I read back over her essay, the word "same" continues to jump out at me.  She writes, "We play the same games, sing the same songs, canoe to the same rock.  But I also get to meet new people and piece together who I am."  With the stress of senior year, SK needed "the same"; she craved "the same", and what she got was another experience of piecing together who she was as a person at All Saints,  not a person connected to Mason but completely by herself.  She began to feel the labor pains of moving out and moving on--always knowing All Saints would be there but feeling the beginning of not having it as frequently or in the "same" way.

It occurs to me, not for the first time, that All Saints for the youth is a microcosm of the church.  And just as SK is struggling with change and what does it mean to be part of All Saints now that it's different, we in the church are struggling with changes all around us .  Some changes we embrace and some terrify us. These changes can be big--who's welcome and invited into positions of leadership; and some are small and seem insignificant.  If you'd told me 10 years ago I would not have turned my nose up at teenagers in jeans at church--four of whom are my teenagers in jeans at church, I would have scoffed at you.  The struggle that SK is experiencing at All Saints is the same we struggle with in our own perception of church. If it's not what it's always been, what will it be, and will I still fit? Will I still belong?

The real ah-ha moment for me came when I thought, "this discomfort, this change, this is exactly what the purpose of All Saints and the  church is."  We are not called to be just a place for respite, just a place for solace.  The Book of Common Prayers says, "Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength, for pardon only, and not for renewal." (BCP, p. 372)  Mason has already begun to live into this, SK is transitioning, others have embraced it.  It's a process.  To illustrate, the eighth grade giggly girls are coming for solace and comfort and unconditional love and acceptance.  They are coming for an escape from the "hell" of middle school.  The 10th and 11th graders are coming and exploring their faiths; they have moved from just a place of refuge to a place of trying on identities, figuring out what it means to take All Saints with you into the world.  And the seniors and college students are ready, thanks to All Saints, to take the strength and renewal they have gained and move out into the world.  All Saints will always be there for them in their hearts and for many it will continue to be the place they return summer after summer for solace, strength, pardon and renewal.  The lessons All Saints are teaching these youth are the very lessons we as a church need to learn.

Some people come into the church broken and hurting.  They come believing they have nothing to give; they come for solace and pardon only.  And that is okay.  They come and hopefully are accepted where they are on their journey and accepted as people created in the image of God.  As they are cared for, nurtured, blessed, not only do they bless those already there in ways they could never imagine,  but they also gather strength and renewal so that the church in the world becomes bigger and stronger--more accepting, more empathetic, more tolerant, more holy.  Things change, people come and go but the church in whatever form is the place where we are taken, blessed, broken and given to the world.  Church is where we come both for solace and for strength.  Church is where we come to be healed and to heal.  Church is both the same and different--it lives within the tension of tradition and change.  Church is not to be hoarded but to be given.  It is hard; it can be painful; it is definitely scary; and it is our calling.  "Go in peace to love and serve the Lord." (BCP, 366).  We have felt the peace, now give us the strength to go and serve.