It’s easy to forget our race is epic. In a world of billions, where there is always someone who is better, faster and stronger, how can we justify the feeling that our times matter? It’s easy to forget that our faith journey is epic, amidst a fast changing world where truth bends, hardens or fades with each fad, election, and new religion. But it is epic, it’s the only journey that matters, and we have been promised that in the face of the ultimate reality, in the face of the One Truth, in the face of God, we can stand and say that our journey is epic.

When I was out there cheering, the reaction that most surprised me was that of the adults. When the honest “thank yous” were called out from the middle of the running mob, I was humbled. Our epic journey was honestly supportive, one screamed out over the din of thousands of pedestrians; my race was our race, their race was everyone’s. We were celebrating something beyond numbers, scores, and times; we were celebrating an epic and unreasonably loud communion through a road race of all things.

The staff and counselors at Camp Cross love to cheer obnoxiously.  We love to scream out for more speed, more passion, more love, more joy, more dancing, and more Jesus. All of us have seen it in the eyes of our campers, and even in the staff’s eyes-the look of the epic, endless summer. Our faith is epic, it does matter, and at Camp Cross we do all we can to remind people of that, reignite that fire, not of doctrine or rule, but of life that made us all fall in love with God in the first place.

At Camp, we have races with winners. There will always be the cool kids, the bookish kids, the outgoing kids, and the quiet kids. And at Camp we will always have kids starting an epic faith journey, a journey that transcends those labels, measures, and social boundaries, and through swimming, archery, crafts and canoeing becomes the unforgettable reminder of our epic faith.

At Camp Cross, we will cheer, and laugh and cry and pray, for our epic faith. And after the summer, we all have to keep cheering. We often wonder how to bring Camp home; remind your camper (young or old) that their journey is epic and so is yours. That they matter, and that you always have to keep moving, sometimes with the fiery irrational exuberance of the victor, and sometimes with the knowing and passionate eyes of a saint.  Yell”thank you” from across the crowd for their inspiration. We at Camp Cross welcome you to rediscover your epic journey, and cheer for us as we rediscover ours.

(From left to right) Bryan Krislock, Libby Beck, The Rt. Rev. James E. Waggoner, Jr., Chase Shields, Canon Kristi Philip, and Elaine Foerster pose for a photo in their 2008 “Do or Diocese” Bloomsday Team shirts.

I finished my first Bloomsday race ever a few weeks ago.  This was my 22nd Bloomsday in Spokane and I had never experienced this huge Spokane event – a 12k race that begins and ends downtown.

I had some very good reasons for not participating before.  For instance, it is a Sunday morning event and most Sundays I’m at work.  That’s kind of a given for a priest.  My other reason was that there is hardly anything that I’ve ever wanted to do with 46,000 other people!

But it was a real joy to take part.  I was the slow person on the diocesan staff “Corporate Cup” team of five.  That meant that I walked instead of ran and started about a half hour after the others once my group made its way to the starting line.

We walkers probably have more fun on the course.  There is music of every kind – rockers, drummers, accordion-playing Elvis impersonators, polka groups and even belly dancers – along the race route.  Even the choir at Our Lady of Lourdes Cathedral stood on their porch to serenade us as we moved by.  When you are walking, you have more time to savor all of this.  I also made a new friend, a young woman from Montana who had lost track of her race companions in the crowd.  We walked most of the course together.

Of course our team wore our special race shirts with the diocesan logo on the front and our team name, “Do or Diocese,” on the back.  (Our name made the finals of the best team name competition.)  I guess we were practicing a low-key form of evangelism.  I know that a few people came up to ask me what a diocese was. Camp Cross had a presence on the course, too, with a cheering section and banner.

Bloomsday prompted some other church-related activities.  Holy Trinity in west central Spokane is all but inaccessible on race day, so worship was moved to Saturday evening, followed by an exquisite pasta supper and live music.  That event was a fund-raiser for Anna Ogden Hall, a women’s shelter in the neighborhood.  Saturday’s worship included a blessing of racers.  I expect other Spokane churches had pre-Bloomsday events and blessings of runners.

This whole Bloomsday experience got me thinking about the opportunities our churches have to celebrate community events in some unique ways.  Are we at the fun run?  The county fair?  The rodeo parade?  The art festival?

Chances are, participants at a community event are not going to come to us.  Maybe we can come to them with some presence of the Church that celebrates in the midst of the wider community.

I’ll never be a speedy runner, but I can still enjoy the race.  This year I was the 28,304^th person to finish – hardly a speed demon.  I was 74^th among the 149 women in my age group and first among people with my last name.  (Of course I was the only one with that last name!)  Maybe next year I can break the two-hour mark.

Best of all, it was a glorious morning spent with old and new friends and a virtual mob of folks who were part of this annual community celebration.  It was a great place to be.

Where might the church show up in your community’s life this summer?