The Village ILWIDIot

Walt Wiltschek

“Everything on earth has its own time and its own season.”
— Eccl. 3:1, CEV

Perhaps many of you, like me, have been noticing the abundance of cicadas recently. They’re everywhere, it seems—at least in this part of the state. More than once I’ve thought of Psalm 139’s question, “Where can I flee from your presence?”, as I find them buzzing through the air, sitting on tree branches and leaves, or nestled in the grass or on the sidewalk. (And no wonder: Scientists have estimated there could be a trillion cicadas this year!)

They can be a bit much, but I confess I kind of enjoy them, too: their big, bulgy red eyes, their translucent wings, their warbling hum as they sing together from the trees. And they don’t bite or sting, so I’m not much bothered when one dive bombs or comes to roost on my arm. I’ve even picked up a few in perilous positions to help them on their way.

But their most fascinating attribute, of course, is their unique life cycle. They lie underground for 13 or 17 years, waiting to emerge for a few weeks of singing, flying, mating, and laying eggs. That’s why they’re officially known as “periodical cicadas.” Once they’ve completed their mission, the cycle starts over again.

All of life has cycles. In recent weeks I’ve been to graduation ceremonies in Naperville, Sycamore, and Elgin, watching as hundreds and hundreds of students (including the handful I knew) walked—or on at least one occasion backflipped—across the stage to get their diploma and march on to the next phase of life.

I’ve always tried to make events like that, because they’re important: markers of our journey, rites of passage as we continue to grow and more fully become our God-created selves. Some congregations do a good job of recognizing such moments, by handing out Bibles to children or doing graduation celebrations or noting anniversaries and retirements or commissioning people for new calls and opportunities.

Annual Conference and district conferences and our camp events serve a bit of that purpose in our church life, too, bringing us together as we mark the turn from one year of faith to the next. Particular holiday traditions can also be markers along the way.

In his book From Beginning to End: The Rituals of Our Lives, author Robert Fulghum observed: “Rituals are one way in which attention is paid. Rituals arise from the stages and ages of life. Rituals transform the ordinary into the holy. … Rituals create sacred time.”

I’m not proposing that you need to go out and hold a festive cicada celebration this week replete with cicada carols and bulging red cupcakes. I do hope, though, that you might pause to recognize the rhythms of life around you. What occasion or event might you acknowledge this summer? What new emergence of life in your congregation deserves a shout-out? Much in this wild, wonderful life merits celebrating, so take notice—and lift up the moments you can.