November, 2007
Enfolded in love
Brenda and I come from a long line of quilters. Consequently we have a number of quilts from past generations plus some Brenda has created. When the temperatures dropped on Monday I went looking for one of the quilts for our bed.
Such moments remind me that not only were quilts very important as a means of keeping warm, they were created frequently from recycled fabrics including great grandfather's favorite flannel shirt or grandmother's dress. To the stranger the fabric pieces were unrecognizable, but to those in the family they had meaning beyond their use as a piece of a quilt.
The making and giving of a quilt often marked special family or community events. A wedding quilt was given to the new couple by the parents and relatives of both families that had made it for the young couple. There were house warming quilts and even quilts that marked the end of a war. Quilt making was an important social event.
One Saturday afternoon Brenda and I went to a quilt show sponsored by a small Methodist Church in nearby Rockport, Texas. The church was one of the oldest in the area and had a cemetery on the grounds. Quilts were everywhere including a large building next to the church. As I wandered into the worship area I noticed they had placed the oldest of the quilts gently across the pews. Many of them were made prior to the push west by the pioneers of that region. The names on the quilts I quickly discovered were the same names on the plaques at the base of each stained glass window and the names on the tombstones in the cemetery.
After coming back from the cemetery I was alone for a brief moment in the church and I had the experience of a vision of the quilts being transformed into people singing and praying, passing a collection basket after listening to sermons and even hearing the announcements about the next pot-luck lunch. The congregation was stitched together by their lives and enfolded as one into the quilt of God's love that would protect them and keep them warm despite the storms of life and the cold blasts of disease, hurricane, tragedy, and grief.
Every one of us is “stitched” together. Collectively we are St. Theodore's. No one is first and no one is last nor is anyone greater than another. We are all important and necessary in order to be the church Sunday after Sunday. Then we can keep out the cold of despair and be enfolded in God's unconditional love and hope. Your presence is requested Sunday after Sunday after Sunday. There is always an opening for one more.
Fr. Ken †
