So, many, many years ago, I was doing a road trip of the great upper western states. I saw myself as this clever young adult, headed off to discover the real America so that I could be even more clever (actually, irritating) when I got home. I was a new Jack Kerouac.
But I was young and impatient then, so in reality I blasted up and down the interstates, trying to get as far as possible as I could every day. And what began as a trip of discovery became a trip of one McDonald's and Motel 6 to the next one. Never stopping long enough to enjoy what our vast and great nation had to offer.
Near the end of this whirlwind trip, I was headed east on Interstate 70, in Missouri. And as I approached St. Louis, there was a huge traffic stop. This was long before GPS or even cell phones, and I didn't have any idea where I was, so finding a local radio station for info was pretty much not going to happen. So, I just sat and creeped along. Finally, I got to a spot where a policeman was directing traffic off to the side of the road and to an exit. I rolled down my window and asked what was going on. Two tractor trailers had collided. And we had to be detoured.
And it was there that I discovered Wright City, MO. Small town. I looked it up earlier this week. About 3,500 people. I don't think that has changed since I was there over 30 years ago. But here's the catch. When I wound my way through town, there on the outskirts, I saw it. It was beautiful, it was majestic.
It was the Elvis Is Alive! Museum.
Friends, for the first time on the trip, I felt compelled to stop. Founded by a, shall we say, former Baptist preacher, the Elvis Is Alive! Museum is dedicated to the proposition that Elvis is, well, alive. And all the exhibits and such that were there did very little to prove it, but they were really nice and earnest. And there was a cafe with fried banana sandwiches and milkshakes, so for the $2.50 admission, it was quite a nice stop.
And it was here that I developed my love for slowing down, taking backroads, and seeing the awesome things that make America truly great, and really weird.
But interruptions are not always this pleasant or enlightening. It's hard sometime to live in this world and get done the things you need to get done with all the interruptions. So many of them seem like the whole universe is against you.
I've told y'all about my discernment for holy orders, before, but it bears repeating. I had it all planned out and knew how long it would take and where I'd go to seminary and where I'd be placed in a parish. I absolutely had the whole thing down to the last detail in my mind. But for some reason, other people kept disagreeing with me. So I didn't get to go when I wanted where I wanted to be what I wanted. Instead, my life was interrupted. Instead I had to spend a few more years, running the coffee shop until the time had passed when the discernment team wanted to see me again.
Three years of my life lived in one constant irritating interruption.
I wonder if Jesus felt a little bit of irritation in our Gospel reading today. I mean, here he is going about his business trying to get to Jairus's daughter because the poor little girl is gravely ill. He's a man on the mission, needing to get from point A to point B. And up from nowhere pops this interruption in the form of a woman who has been suffering greatly for as long as that little girl has been alive. And she reaches out, not knowing what will happen, but surely it can't get any worse, and she touches Jesus' cloak. And is healed.
And Jesus has to stop and find the woman and assure her, in her fear, that it's OK. It's ok to be in need and it's ok to be afraid, and the faith that burst forth has healed her.
But now it's too late. The interruption lasted too long, and the little girl is dead.
And yet....
Sometimes those interruptions in our lives... Those things that set up roadblocks, those events that mess will our plans, those people that get in our way. Sometimes, those interruptions in our lives might just be the Holy Spirit popping up. The Holy Spirit that so patiently taps us on the shoulder as we go through our day-to-day lives, whispering in our ear to love God and love our neighbor. Just being there with us. Sometimes that Holy Spirit pops up in a more active way, interrupting our plans in a way we wouldn't expect.
And when that happens – and when we bother to take notice – our lives can change in such profound ways.
A woman touches Jesus. This is a woman who has been objectified for twelve years. To those in the medical field of the time, she is a problem, a wounded thing that needs to be cured. And when they can't, they go about their business and send her on her way. She is just an unseen person on the fringe of their lives that they need to get on with.
But this woman touches Jesus, and his healing grace touches her, and he stops, allowing himself to be interrupted in order to see her, to truly see her. For the first time in twelve years, she is a person and not an illness. For the first time in twelve years, she is whole.
And that's not the end of the story. Because of this unexpected interruption in Jesus' journey, the healing he does with Jairus's daughter is so much more profound. This little girl, whom everyone knew (she was the daughter of the town leader, after all), whom everyone saw every day for the same twelve years that nobody saw the other woman...this little girl now was unseen in a very profound way. She was gone as far as the crowd were concerned. Time to move on. But again, Jesus sees and understands and gets to the heart of the matter and lifts her up, back to her life again.
A girl, whose life was interrupted, is able to experience first hand, the healing power of God, exactly because her life had been interrupted.
That loving grace, moving through the interruptions of our lives.
You know, if my discernment hadn't been interrupted I would not have been able to meet and live along side so many wonderful people at the coffee shop, gathering so many stories and memories of people working through their own lives. I would not have been able to stand along side a customer as he decided to become an Episcopalian. I would not have been able to be a speaker at the funeral of another customer's mother, because he had nobody else to turn to and trusted me to do right by her.
And if I had gone to seminary according to my timeline, I would not have met such wonderful friends who are a much my family as my family. And I most likely wouldn't be here now, among such wonderful people in such a beautiful land.
And if that diversion years ago had not led me to that out of the way wonder of the world, I would not have learned to slow down. I would not have learned to appreciate the little things in life, the struggling, hard-working folks that you meet along the way. I would not have had the worst fried banana sandwich I've ever had in my life. And I would not have that memory to cherish the way I do now.
Holy Interruptions. These moments that knock us out of our comfort zones when we have to change our direction, or our mind, or our best laid plans. Good bless 'em. Don't be annoyed by them. Keep your eyes open for them. Because you never know where they will lead.
Amen