I have been thinking a lot recently, but have not had time to put down my thoughts. I've been thinking about why I am a minister and I think it's because I love life in liminal spaces. I love life in the in-between spaces, in the transitional spaces, in what mystics might call the thin spaces.
I love to sit in contemplation at the edge of a rock quarry, at the edge of a meadow, at the beginning of the dunes and watch life occur around and within me. I've heard it said that 80 percent of the wildlife exists within 20 feet of this space where the forest meets the meadow. The animals weave in and out of the vegetation interacting with each other in dappled shadow and sunlight. I love to sit just at the edge of the dunes and the beach, watching the snow crab and painted buntings flit in and out of the myrtles. I love the edge of the rock quarry where the birds can dive off into empty space in glorious abandon.
As a minister, I too inhabit that marginal, liminal space. I live on the edges; between death and life, between repentance and regeneration, between earth and heaven. I like to believe that 80 percent of life is lived here in richness, weaving in and out of the dappled sunlight of God's love. I like to believe that people would want to join me. I don't know if they do or not.
The verse "And Jesus said to him, ‘Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head'" -- this verse speaks to me. The birds of the air and the foxes of the earth do not rest in this liminal space. Their habitat is within the meadow and the forest, but I believe that Jesus, the Christ, the Anointed One of God dwells with me in this liminal space; that the Christ abides with me here. Perhaps Christ rests here within me, outside me, around me, above me and below me. This is the thin space; here is my rest.