Wednesday evening

Kansas is not flat. Heading east today, it was hills and headwinds. Isaac and I took our five-hour shift beginning at one in the afternoon, alternating hour-long rides and ending up breaking out the tandem for the last hour. It was our maiden voyage cycling as a pair, and although we were both tired from fighting Euros (not the currency, the Greek god of the east wind), we met his challenges to our timing and patience with a shared spirit of adventure and good humor. The most difficult test to our resolve came from the tandem’s seats, which are very different from what is on either of our regular bikes. Every long incline led not to a descent, as had been our experience in the mountains, but to another incline. Each crest in the distance offered a false promise of a cooling run down its back side, as the seats issued their assault on our backsides. But perseverance was ours, and we made the hand-off to Steve and Kelly.

The evening’s entertainment came in Nickerson, Kansas where we stopped to re-fuel the mother ship, our 30 foot home on wheels which we rented from El Monte RV, near Anaheim. Outside the KwikShop 24-hour gas and convenience store, two SUVs backed out of their parking spaces and into the same small piece of God’s creation. This drew a small crowd including, shortly, Nickerson’s finest, who photographed the damage and made a thorough accident report, taking time to direct us to a vacant lot suitable for docking our MS.

We are passing through Everytown, USA, day after day and night after night. Just like everywhere else, the people bump their cars into each other’s, come out to witness and bless life’s events no matter how mundane, and take the time to help the odd stranger in Spandex cycling shorts park his episcopal land yacht. It is a privilege to encounter all these folk whom God so loves.

Wednesday at noon

We climbed through the Rockies all Monday night, with Carl conquering Monarch Pass (elevation 11,840) at noon on Tuesday. Coming out of the east slope of the great mountains, I enjoyed a stretch of cycling along the Arkansas River, before turning up into our last bit of incline. There was a moderate headwind, enough to force you to work even on a downward grade. As I doggedly pushed onward against the persistent pushing back of the wind, I was reminded of the countless times I have pushed on against the steady resistance of the Holy Spirit, too strong willed or dimwitted to heed her persistent push.

Now 75 miles into Kansas, we are enjoying 85-90 degree sunny weather. While we will doubtless have plenty of headwinds in the days to come, I feel confident that we have the Spirit of Holiness encouraging us along.

Cycling from General Convention

I and the Ohio cycling team are heading east. We got a good start out of California, getting used to night riding and testing out what rotations might work best in what terrain. It already seems a rich metaphor for our life in the Church. By noon yesterday we hit extremely high temperatures in Nevada. The outside temperature gage on my Prius (the follow vehicle) registered steadily at 118 degrees Fahrenheit. A resident of Overton claimed 120. I don’t think it was an act of pride. I got a flat tire from two tiny steel wires from a truck tire blowout. In removing the wheel for repair, the tire rubber was so hot it burned my fingers. Even the handle bar tape was painful when I moved the position of my hands. At 2:30 in the afternoon we took a break as the heat had become dangerous. Regardless of how much fluid we drank, we couldn’t keep our body temperatures down while riding. It will be better when we get to higher elevations today.

The General Convention completed all of its legislative action an hour ahead of schedule on Friday afternoon, in notable comparison to 2006 and many previous conventions which left business unfinished. While the media is describing our Church’s deliberations as focused on two things, money and sex, I believe the 76th General Convention of The Episcopal Church was principally about honesty: honesty about who we are as a community of Christians, complex in our makeup and unified in God’s mission; honesty about bringing who we truly are into our continuing relationship with one another and the rest of the Anglican Communion; and honesty about our resources and how they are directing us to reform this Church.

This ride is a stretch. It is a stretch physically, calling us, riders and support crew alike, to know our limits and to live within them. It is a stretch for us relationally, eleven adventurous souls, none of whom knew everyone when we started, living in very close quarters and trying to accomplish together a great challenge that will require the best of each of us. It is a stretch for us as an act of mission as it opens our hearts to those on behalf of whom we are riding and inspires us to give more generously of ourselves. And it is a stretch for us spiritually as we are continuously awed by the creation through which we are pedaling and given the contemplative time that distance cycling provides for listening to God.

Being the Body of Christ is likewise a stretch. It, too, calls us to live honestly, to be genuine in who we are and to live within the limits of what God knows us to be. It calls us to meet the challenges of living in relationship with others, both friends and strangers, letting God change us through them. It calls us to mission on behalf of those whose suffering will make us more whole, if we allow ourselves to take it in and take it on. And it calls us to a spirituality that is as disciplined as pedaling a bicycle and as adventurous as the God-given life through which we are all riding together.