FESTIVAL

The air is turning crisp, and a hint of coldness lies in the predawn rising. It's the arrival of fall, and pumpkins, in everything October. The hint of Halloween is heavy on the air, as restless children pump their arms and legs in high excitement on jeans-and-jacket days. It's the candy, and the costumes, and the comfort food when we come in at night.

It is also a time of gathering, of celebrating, of churches across suburbia planning fall festivals. Last week I took the kids to our church festival, and we had a lot of fun. They got to ride ponies and eat chili prepared by my friends from bible study. Kaleb smiled the whole time, and all week has been pointing at his chest, proud, saying, "Kaleb rode neigh."

In every moment lies a little treasure.

Today I took my little treasure out to another festival, held at the Catholic church by the apartments I used to live in. At night I would run with my dog through the suburban streets, just outside FM 1960, the most dangerous road in this town. Halfway through our run, we would reach the church grounds. The air was always dewy and wet, and I would let him off the leash here to romp with me through the soccer fields, sometimes splashing mud along our legs as we dashed in excitement.

This church promoted serenity in their architecture. The buildings wrapped around a central outside courtyard, with shady trees and benches underneath along smooth sidewalks. Rascal and I would venture in to have our moment of solemn grace, then dash back out into the night and the adorable artistic townhomes around the corner.
It struck me that I had never been here during the day before. It was a different atmosphere, losing its shroudy glow of quiet spirituality, but with a glowing fire of faith instead. The theme was "Street Shoppes", and booths lined the sidewalk along the edge of the courtyard. Vendors displayed shiny glowing boxes, festive Christmas wreaths, handmade soaps, glittering beaded necklaces, rows of blooming plants and little wooden Santa figures.
I wonder what Jesus would think about this. Would he feel like he did during his little "episode" at the Temple? Would Jesus have a problem with the rows of expectant vendors selling Santa wares across our church courtyards?
I know that essentially it is not the same. What Jesus seemed to be mad at, to me, is the fact that faith was being sullied by this constant giving of money to get closer to God, to all the rules that seem to interfere with a pure faith. During the festivals at the temple, the Jews had to buy an offering (an animal to sacrifice in death), and to to that, they had to change their money at the vendor booths along the edges of the Temple. (The trading always worked in the vendors' favor, naturally). There were all these conditions to the obedient faith, all these things you had to do and buy, to have a relationship with God.
We don't have to buy these things along the booths. We could look at them as "the fruits of the spirit", giving to others what we have in abundance, and blessing them with our gifts, like the gift of cooking in bake sales, the gift of creativity in jewelry sales. We could be offering God our best, and sharing with our community.
That's the way I want to think about these fall festivals, that it is giving and not being cheated, it is God's grace and not the sum of our offerings that allows us our relationship with God.