Splash Mountain

13th Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary 21), Year B
Texts: Josh 24.1-2a, 14-18; Jn 6.56-69

When I was 9, my family took a trip to Disneyland. It was the first time my little sister or I had ever flown on a plane. In fact, aside from a family trip to Fargo for my aunt’s wedding, it was only the second time either of us had been outside of Montana. We went in the off-season, which was great, because the lines were practically non-existent. While the locals were all bundled up against the cold, there we were in our shorts and t-shirts, loving the beautiful warm weather.

I remember being so excited about all the rides. I had never been to a theme park before, but I had always wanted to ride rollercoasters. At Disneyland, I rode every one I could; but my favorite was Splash Mountain. I went on it three times, once with my dad and twice with my mom. I couldn’t go with both of them at the same time because my sister, who was 6 at the time, was afraid of the dark, and she refused to get on the ride because there were a few moments where it went through a darkened tunnel.