Shoe-shine sermon

I missed the sunset last night.

I find great solace in rituals.

Okay, some friends call them ruts. (‘Tis true. I’ll go to the same spot. Sit in the same chair. Enjoy a glass of the same Bordeaux. If that’s a rut, so be it. And if a rut feels an awful lot like heave, can you give me a good reason to change it?)

When I’m in Hawaii (today I’m on the island of Maui), I can’t miss the sunset. I park myself on the beach and watch fire melt into a dolphin-blue sea.

I think I missed last night’s sunset because I didn’t listen to the sermon I heard a couple days ago. No, it wasn’t in a church. All the best sermons I’ve heard in my life have been delivered in someplace other than church. (Perhaps because in church we pull our punches? We say what we think the congregation can handle? We don’t want to adversely affect the offering?)

So. I’m in an airport the other day, getting my shoes shined. I’ll call him Rev. Shoe-shiner. Every employee of the airport that walked by, he greeted, by name, and asked about their day. “How you doing today?” he asked a man who wore a janitorial service uniform. “Just trying to make it, man. Just trying to make it.” “Mmm-huh. . .but you got to make it. You just got to make it.” “Okay,” the uniformed man answered. “How about you, young man?” he asked me (I am fond of anyone who calls me young). “What flight you on?” “The one that’s boarding now,” I pointed to the gate near the shoe-shine stand. “Well, that’s okay,” he said, “But we have no need to hurry. They know you’re here. They won’t leave without you. Besides you got to stop and spend some time smelling the roses.” I couldn’t argue with that, even though I wasn’t sure about the connection between shoe-shining and smelling roses. But maybe that’s the point; we think that smelling the roses has to be at a special place and a special time. Maybe it’s about being open—available, aware, noticing, paying attention—to the fullness of life in the most ordinary of moments.

I missed the sunset last night.

But I did not miss the sunrise this morning. The morning light here renders everything somehow more substantial.

Tonight, I have the honor of officiating a wedding ceremony. On the beach. At sunset. This one I won’t miss. And I think I’ll use some of the shoe-shine sermon. It’s perfect.