Just after I graduated from seminary in 2005, I visited my brother who was serving in the Peace Corps in Kazakhstan. I could not have found that country on a map before Jay moved there but I was so excited to see his new world and share his journey.
Kazakhstan was full of new experiences. Some of it seemed drab and strange, like the gray and sad-looking Soviet-era buildings that dotted the capital Almaty or the warm camel milk we bought to drink at the city's bazaar. Some things were wonderful, like staying with the host family where Jay lived for the first three months of his training (his home at the time was farther north, where he would spend two years teaching English).
This host family welcomed us warmly, though they spoke no English. Jay communicated with them in Russian and translated for me. We spent days hiking in the village, visiting other friends, working with the family in their garden and I made bread with the women. On the day we left, Jay's host mom gave me a beautiful white linen handkerchief and told me to save it for my wedding day (the family was somewhat alarmed that I was in my late twenties and unmarried!)
Before we left, Jay told me about the leave-taking rituals in Kazakhstan. Before house guests could leave, it was important to sit down together, have some tea and bread and to thank the hosts for their hospitality. So we did just that before we got on the bus to our next destination. It felt like a fine, fitting end to our week with the family. It was a ritual, it was something to do and it felt good.
Since then I've said many goodbyes, moved a few times, made many exits and endings. Who hasn't? To leave, to exit, to end is part of the journey, essential to do before beginning a new.
Humans have long put rituals to their endings, as the Kazakh family did. We have graduation ceremonies, good-bye parties and blessing and sending rituals at church. In her book Exit: The Endings That Set Us Free, author Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot explores the way we say goodbye and the need for ritual around the endings we all experience.
In an NPR interview with Lawrence-Lightfoot earlier this year, she talked about the importance of marking our endings: "I think that one of the things that I discovered through doing this research is that exits can become very defining moments, that in our society, we tend to be so focused on beginnings, so focused on launchings, so tilted toward the future that we don't take advantage of those very important moments of paying attention to our departures."
Pay attention to your departures. The author also said that it's good to pay attention to small departures, too, since the way we handle little goodbyes sets us up for the way we handle bigger ones.
I've done a lot of leaving lately and the topic of appropriate endings and rituals is still on my mind.
Since my last blog entry, I've left my call as pastor at Central Lutheran Church here in Anchorage. It was a planned exit and one that I chose but it was still hard. No one in all of my seminary training prepared me for how hard it would be to leave a congregation that I loved. I left for professional opportunities and for a chance to work part-time and stay home part-time with our baby who is due in late August. I wanted to write about the leave-taking many times on this blog but I couldn't find the words.
Since then I've also left the cute, sunny, conveniently-located apartment my husband and I shared in downtown Anchorage and we've bought a house on the west side of town. Another ending, and again, I couldn't find the words.
Perhaps because rituals work better. At Central I had a going-away party and a blessing and sending during worship. In our little apartment, I sat quietly and remembered how so many formative events of the last eight years of my life happened within those walls.
Stories work too, which is what Lawrence-Lightfoot found in her book. I told my husband funny stories of my early days living in the apartment (before we met). I told my friends a host of stories of life and people at Central Lutheran. Now my husband and I are telling stories about our pre-baby adventures, as we approach the end of our duo and the beginning of our trio.
Lots of Biblical stories mark endings and exits, too. People of God have long told stories of our fore-fathers and mothers of faith. Abram moves to a foreign land. Elisha follows Elijah into prophecy. The disciples leave their nets and follow Jesus. Jesus dies on the cross.
Rituals. Story-telling. Naming the ending as such and recalling why the time or experience matters, just like Jay and I did around that little table in Kazakhstan. Maybe that's the best we can do. Exits and endings are everywhere. And so too, are the new beginnings.
I'd be curious to hear about the way you have marked your endings and exits. What helps? How does it work for you?
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