"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also"- Luke 12:34

I feel a little under qualified standing up here in front of you all.  I have still to enter the latter half of my 25^th year of spiritual journey.  And yet, I sometimes wonder if age can less be attributed to days, minutes and seconds and more to the stories and events that shape us.  If so, I think I would need some serious realignment of those numbers. 

In my newly calibrated state, I would say that St. Thomas' represents year 42 of my life as a Christian.  I was born into the Episcopal Church and, to the testament of my mother and father, held perfect attendance in Sunday school for the first eleven years of my life.  Following that, I was involved in my church as head acolyte and confirmed my freshman year of High School.  We've already past the halfway mark in my lifetime as counted in calendar years.

As I feel is generally typical, it was about that time that I really began questioning religion, the Bible and even the existence of God.  I've always tended to gravitate towards mathematics and finally majored in Biology, so it might be easy to conclude the rational part of my mind rebelled against the part trying to reconcile the idea of "faith."  Probably the most intangible, yet demanding, notion to reconcile.

I have, however, never forgotten a dinner with my father at our favorite local NJ Italian restaurant, Casa de Pasta.  I asked him, a man with a doctorate in Physical Science, how he could justify his belief in "God," something that defies all definition of physical matter.  He told me it is just something you have to have faith in.  "And what if you don't," I asked.  "Well, then, I feel sorry for you," was his response.

For many years after that and only recently until now I had failing and flailing in my faith.  I had no true grasp of what either my treasure was or where it could be found.  Although there were, as in everyone's life, ups and downs I saw my life unfolding into stories of heartbreaks, failures, abusive relationships and disappointments.  Of which my age in experience far exceeded that in years.

I can't pinpoint the moment I said, or if I ever even consciously thought, "enough, I'm done with this fruitless search," although I'm pretty sure it involved a rod and three screws.  Two years ago, after a stress fracture gone bad for about two weeks, I broke my hip- I think I'm about 80 years by now?  It was devastating and forced me to evaluate what it would take to heal and literally get back on my feet again.

Serendipitously, St. Thomas' Parish Secretary was about to go in for surgery and I just so happened to be in a position, and one block away, to hobble and offer my help.  That's when I first opened my self to St. Thomas.'  I worked with Father John, who just moved on from his position as St. Thomas' Assistant Rector, but will always have a place in my heart.  He was like my inviting angel that brought me to return to my childhood roots.  Nancy Lee returned soon after and I found a church that I knew was a treasure in the eyes of at least two rectors I greatly admire.

Since then, my life has been at times hard, difficult, seemingly unmanageable and I won't deny the occasional cry, but at least I know one place where I can trust my heart to be.  It's found itself not to be alone within this church and shares some of the best company it could ever ask for.  Year 42; yes, it's a beautiful age, and I can only look forward to continuing my journey and further searching for my treasure, knowing at least one place that it will always be able to be found.