When my children were young, there was a special fascination with doors. If the child was on one side of a door, they wanted to be on the other side. Once on the other side of the door, the child wanted to return and be on the other side. The door was the portal to another world. Remember the wardrobe in the CS
Lewis classic, “The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe”? For Peter and Lucy and their siblings, the wardrobe was a portal to the magical land of Narnia. That is the thing about doors: they lead to somewhere else. On the other side of a door, there is possibility and adventure. On the other side of the door, there is
the known, the secure, and that is good, too.
Saint Barnabas stands on one side of a door. As your new rector arrives, there is a portal. The portal leads forward, to a new future. It is exciting and, yes, it is also a little bit scary. We know what is on the one side. In that, there is comfort and security.
As we read and know our scripture, we know that our God is always calling us forward. The people of the Exodus were led to a new and promised land. They grumbled along the way. God continually called them forward. So it is with you and me. God calls us forward. We move with the confidence of our faith. We grumble and God calls us to embrace the journey and the hope of the promised land.
It has been my profound honor and delight to share a piece of this journey with the people of Saint Barnabas. I have gratitude for all of your expressions of welcome, of faith, and of sharing your journey with me. That is also something about the nature of doors. There is a bittersweet nature of such portals. It is exciting to see what lies ahead and a bit sad to leave behind what we once knew. I leave Saint Barnabas grateful and full. You will hold a piece of my heart.
Now on to the other side of the door.
The Rev. Sarah Nelson