Directions

Yesterday Max called me from New Orleans, looking for the best directions to the 9th ward. I was north of Knoxville headed home from Mary Ellen and Matt's wedding in Banner Elk, North Carolina. I am not the one to ask for directions in New Orleans. I consider myself to generally be quite good with directions. Some have called me a human global positioning system. OK, that is me that says that. But something about New Orleans confuses me. I think it is because I am a directional literalist, and the river winds around the city so that the East Bank can be on the west side of the river.

It had been a weekend of seeking direction. The wedding was at the Banner Elk Presbyterian Church. Each group of Bentleys, Hillers, Stocktons, Sparkmans, Lowrys, and other relatives and friends, were in accomodations scattered from Banner Elk to Boone. The after rehearsal dinner was at the Apple Barn, the reception was at the Winery, the brunch was at the Gamekeeper Inn. This is Appalachia, where you can meet yourself in the curves of the road, where even a crow can't fly a direct route, where maps habitually lie, or at least play practical jokes. This is my kind of place. It is easy to get lost.

The short weekend was great. Mary Ellen had chosen a place for her wedding that she wanted to share with her friends and family. It was great because Mary Ellen and Matt had already spent time there, not just in getting ready for their wedding, but before that, enjoying themselves and the unique places and people of that mountain community. When Matt and Mary Ellen invited their friends and family to Banner Elk, they knew what was there, because they had spent time there.

But for those of us who had not yet spent time in Banner Elk, there was a lot of cell phone time. I discovered that one of the keys to getting good directions was finding someone who had already been to, or arrived at, a destination. Otherwise the conversation was just high-minded, scholarly speculation. But, when you talked to someone who had actually overcome the wrong or missed turns, the obtacles and perils and made it to the Apple Barn, or the Gamekeeper Inn, or the Mast General Store, there was a heroic, inspirational quality in his or her voice, saying, "you can do it, here's what to look out for . . ."

I think that is one thing weddings are all about. We are all on the road together. Some have gone far, some a short way, some have backed up a bit. Detours have been common. But all have learned something along the way.

The wedding liturgy included a part which required those of us in attendance to be responsible to Matt and Mary Ellen in supporting them in their marriage. Perhaps at that point the service should stop, and everyone should give the new couple their cell numbers and email addresses. Doesn't seem very Episcopal. Not even very Methodist.

Being temporarily lost is not always a bad thing. Sometimes we learn important things, or discover wonderful new things in the detours. It can be a hilarious thing. Especially when you're travelling with the one you love.

But there are times when we need directions from those who have been that way before, because things can get turned around, like the east bank and the west. Or the Apple Barn from the Conference Center.