Ben’s July Letter
Dear friends in Christ,
As I write this at the end of June, I am staring out my window, wondering if it will rain. It’s overdue—but I have outdoor plans tonight. I’m not sure what to hope for. I will keep watching. Considering the rain is, of course, one of the great summer pastimes of the Midwest. We like to watch storms on our porches, and we nod solemnly and say things like “the plants really needed this”. We praise the smell of the air after rain (which has a name—“petrichor”), and we appreciate that a good rain sometimes breaks a heat wave, if only for a little while. But we aren’t naive about rain in the summer, either. Rain cancels or delays our plans for outdoor fun, and a violent storm can cause damage or even death. If it rains too many days in a row—we worry about the plants all over again. We will never run out of things to say about it.
Years ago I was reading John Cheever’s short story “The Housebreaker of Shady Hill”; the story of a man stuck and dissatisfied with his life who takes up casual burglary as a hobby in his affluent suburb. One night, as he leaves a home he has broken into, he is caught in a rainstorm—and is struck with the realization that he isn’t trapped in his life. He feels his burglary washed away, and he remembers that he can (and should) start over. He is reborn in a downpour, and gives up housebreaking forever. I don’t know if Cheever meant this as a metaphor for baptism, but I took it as one, and I’ve never thought of a summer rain the same way since.
If rain is a reminder of baptism—then it is a reminder that the Christian life is sometimes lovely and regenerative, marked by God’s blessings. But it is also a reminder that we are not immune to destruction or suffering; that things will not happen as we want them to, or when; that the things that were once good for us can be bad for us in other seasons. Baptism, and the Christian life that follows, can promise us very little—but they promise that we belong to a God who will not let us go. Rain or shine, even storm—there is God.
As you watch this summer’s rains—may you ponder your baptism, and know God’s hold on you.
In Christ,
Rev. Ben