The sound of rushing water was out of place and made no sense. The windows weren’t open and the river was miles away. Setting aside preparations for the funeral that would begin soon, I followed the sound. It gathered strength as I went down the stairs. There appeared to be a growing river at the bottom of the steps. Deep enough that I needed to take off my shoes and socks and roll my white dress pants up well above my knees.
I followed the current to the furnace room door where the heart of our boiler system was, remembering that workers had come to service it earlier in the day. Next to it rested the lungs of our wondrous pipe organ, a precious and priceless instrument. Instinctively, I started to bail, trying to move water out as fast as it was rushing in, determined not to let the organ get ruined on my watch.
Bewildered with another unexpected challenge as I served my first congregation, it gave me pause to wonder what had invited this particular catastrophe. Clearly, I was losing ground and I had not yet been able to call for help. Instead of thinking it through, I just jumped into the water. Suddenly, a voice called out, “What in the world are you doing?”
It was one of our members arriving early to work on the food and hospitality. Others joined them in short order. In the midst of our efforts the furnace guy returned. The missing/forgotten connection haunted him and he came back to make sure the connection had been made. He did not make excuses, just acknowledged his error and quickly fixed the connection and stopped the water.
Later, in the quiet, familiar words of Scripture nestled in my heart: “before you call, I will answer.”
While I was following the sound of water, church people and a repairman were following the sound of the Spirit, responding to a flood they did not anticipate, answering a need they knew nothing about. It was a new way for my congregants to see me, wading in rushing water, working side by side with them to avert disaster. My Ethics professor was fond of saying that our primary task is to learn what it means to be human, to be led by the cords of kindness God weaves among us. Alone against the flood, the storm would have prevailed and the day would have been lost, but together we were strong enough to face the rising tide.
It was a calamity that became a sacred story, a bonding experience that grew and strengthened our faithful little congregation in ways no one could have planned or predicted. One of our church elders said, “This is not listed in your Call Agreement. Was flood response covered in one of your seminary classes?” Not unless you count the flood story in Genesis.
Our basement flood deepened our covenant with each other and with God. It taught us how to work together in adversity. We learned more about each other’s gifts and skills; the trust among us grew deeper and stronger that day. Despite significant obstacles, we were able to join together in common purpose and pour out blessing on the friends and family who gathered to remember, celebrate, and mourn the death of their loved one. They probably never learned of the flood that threatened the day, but failed to destroy the funeral service that unfolded in deep blessing and the delicious lunch that was shared by all who came.
God’s desire is for relationships grounded in respect, integrity, kindness, and peace. God yearns for us to work together and share in God’s great and good purpose. Thanks be to God!
Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This week our contributor is Reverend Beth Benson of the First Congregational Church – UCC in Grand Marais.
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