The Festival…

is over. The tents and tables and chairs are moved. Things that can wait will be taken apart as time provides. The dumpsters have been taken away.

Festivals are places where people plan together, work together. and serve together. They can raise vital funds and put a public face on the parish. My parish and its Middle Eastern Dancers made the largest paper in Minnesota. People working together build bonds with each other, their guests, and put their best foot forward.

Festivals are also a ton of work, months in the making, and often just pure sweat. A handful of people are driven to exhaustion one weekend a year because people want, no need, help to pay for their parish. Tempers build. Relationships are strained. Towards the end there are a lot of tired eyes and faces. Sigh,

I haven’t figured it out yet. I like all the good things and dislike all the bad stuff. Where does that leave me? Pretty much where I was before save for one important thing. Every festival we have reminds me of the fact there are people who truly cherish their church home and are willing to sacrifice and give of themselves in extraordinary ways to see that it survives. There’s a raw pool of energy there that hooked to the right things could change the world and in time by grace it will.


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