While this is a one-week later, post-pilgrimage post, touch as it relates to Rio is still alive and well in my memory: sun-baked sand shifting under our feet while viewing Friday's World Cup Match on a ginormous screen at Copacabana Beach with Inamar, Arlinda and thousands of celebrating Brazilians (and other nationalities) of all races, classes and backgrounds; a cool breeze off the cold Atlantic surf while watching inclusiveness personified on Rio's beaches; the vibrations from our perches on bus seats as we swerved and bounced on rocky streets and roads inside and outside the city; the rough twists and turns on the tram ride bumping us momentarily against our fellow passengers; the cobbled stones laid out in mosaic designs on sidewalks and streets, uneven and worn from years of use; the waxy, silken feel of our candles held during the Wednesday evening Taize service; the cool, smooth, even, floor of our hotel room; the regular pattern of woolen up-and- down-up-and-down needlepoint stitches on the colorful kneelers at St. Luke's at Christ Church where Eduardo is rector; the sometimes awkward feeling of being different, not understanding the native language, the way things are and the customs. Pervasive for me is the feeling that positive change comes one step at a time: in a green, living organic garden next to a rambling favela alive with inhabitants; in a song sung by everyone present--Bishop to priest to urban homeless to American visitors--with spirit during a street Eucharist; in the work of Lidia and a committed group of community women creating quilts from scratch; in the smiles on children's faces at school when, through singing and hand motions, they understand a language other than their native Portuguese; in the tears of a widow when she talks about her loss in a safe, holy sanctuary among others who ache for her. The feeling that our friends in Brazil are resiliant agents of positive change and that we are the fortunate and blessed ones to witness their good work is a feeling I will cherish for a lifetime.
The most important touch of all the touch I experienced on this pilgrimage is human touch. This is what we All Saints' travellers felt deeply when in community with our hosts: as we connected through the two special services at the Cathedral; as we celebrated the street Eucharist with the homeless; as we sat together, Brazilians and Americans, all Episcopalians, and ate lunches and refreshments lovingly prepared in the church hall; in the fellowship we enjoyed daily with many new friends-- especially in the candlelight of our final dinner on the terrace of the hotel overlooking the the sparkling lights of a city of contrasts; in the intimacy of laughter and conversation with Inamar and Eduardo in their welcoming apartment with their children and Arlinda for our last "just-us time" together. In asking questions and listening hard. In working to understand and not impose. In attempts to hear with open hearts. In the customary, genuine bear hugs accompanying each personal greeting and farewell, our deepening relationships and our newly-discovered commonalities with people who are now much more to us than simply names. The human touch. Because of these human touches, our relationships will most certainly move to another, higher level of friendship, understanding and caring among us, the traveling All Saints' pilgrims, and between us and our dear Brazilian friends.
Quoting John Robbins' insightful book, "Healthy at 100", " Remember that love is necessary for great relationships, but it is not sufficient. ... They take work, and lots of it."
We pilgrims are people trying our best, in relationship with others, to do what God would have us do in the world. Amen
