It Happens Every 10 Years, or Maybe 14

When you get an invitation of any kind, you need to decide whether to accept or to decline. Sometimes these decisions are easy — “Yipppee!” or “No way I’m going to that!” — and sometimes they’re not.

Every summer stretching back maybe fifteen years, I get an envelope with the same woman’s handwriting and address in the upper left corner. She even managed to find me after our move to New Hampshire, nine years ago. Inside is a one-page invitation to an “Ingraham Family Reunion” happening always at the same location in Maine, with information about both the picnic and the meeting part of the afternoon. Sensing that my connection to this clan is tenuous and maybe even non-existent, and having a few other things to do, I’ve never attended. A wise cousin of mine, who is knowledgeable about Maine history, confirmed my hunch that this event is really nothing we need to bother with.

We’ve Been Waiting for This

That’s a relief, especially this summer, because my marriage has delivered to me an invitation to another kind of event which in some ways resembles a really, really big family reunion.

If you’re Episcopalian, you’ve heard of it. If not, well, don’t worry; I won’t go into a whole lot of detail. This is a mighty large gathering of all bishops and their spouses (more on that in a moment) that happens at the University of Kent, in England, over the course of 12 days. The main goal of the event is simply to promote greater mutual understanding among all Church leaders from all over the world as well as to wrestle with some of the biggest issues facing everyone, everywhere. Here’s a website that provides excellent, daily updates on what’s happening there: https://www.lambethconference.org/

The photo above shows the cover of the guide that attendees, called “delegates,” received ahead of time. The last Conference happened in 2008; the 2018 session was postponed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, The Most Reverend and Right Honourable (don’t you just love those extra letters the Brits use?) Justin Welby because of a high level of internal disagreements over matters of sexuality. And then of course along came COVID to cause another multi-year delay. You can click this link to get a fresh editorial from The Guardian that will explain some of the history…and how certain disagreements, alas, are persisting this time around, too. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2022/jul/25/the-guardian-view-on-the-lambeth-conference-dont-make-it-about-sexuality

Before I get to the topic of spouses, here’s one other page from the guide that shows where the various dioceses are located, worldwide.

You can’t see the key to the numbers here, but one question I have is why Tanzania has a presence in both Central and Latin America? I’m sure there’s a very good explanation, and in a week or so, I’ll get a chance to ask.

Please Enjoy Your Stay

All bishops were, naturally, expected to arrive at the very beginning of the conference. These pictures that my husband sent back on the openings days showed that he was definitely in the right place.

As for spouses, the lead-up to the conference — in Zoom meetings and emails — demonstrated that, not surprisingly, people are taking a wide array of approaches. Many are not attending at all; many are attending for the entire 12 days (understandably, that was the hope for anyone attending, because of the nature of the daily schedule); and a handful of others are attending for a portion of the time. I’m in the last category. The good thing is, I don’t need to provide any explanation: this is simply the option that makes the most sense both for our particular family and for me as an individual. In the conference guide, there’s a page devoted to “The Spouses’ Programme” and it includes this paragraph:

Many spouses play a very active and complementary role in the episcopal ministry. Others pursue more distinct and particular vocations, alongside their spouse.

When I read this, my eyes linger n the word “alongside.” It’s a beautiful word, especially when considering what marriage is all about. In my mind, I see a riverbank, but maybe that’s partly because my husband loves rivers. It implies togetherness of a certain, genuine kind. And, speaking of “particular vocations.” before I leave for the airport next week, I hope to have spent at least some time cleaning out my email inbox for my own job at a high school (also my other two email inboxes, come to think of it). With August upon us, September is right around the corner, and teenagers with backpacks slung over their shoulders will be streaming in through those big glass doors.

First, though, out in the garden, the basil is flowering, the tomatoes are getting plumb and red, and the zucchini is doing what zucchini always does.

One Suitcase Waiting

A couple of Christmases back, I thought I had a good idea to buy pretty good new suitcases, with roller handles, for two of our kids. I’m not sure why they demurred when they encountered the gifts, but it’s actually a good thing that these colorful containers were still in the attic.

In keeping with the general principle of everyone making the choice that’s right for them, and that no stereotypes need apply, I was glad to see that my husband opted to take the pink suitcase.

When I return in mid-August, you can be sure that I’ll look forward to writing a Part Two Lambeth Conference update. In the meantime, I know that I am very fortunate to be able to go at all.

If you are so moved, please feel free to share any particular experience you’ve had either with any kind of reunion or in the role of spouse out in the public sphere — or maybe as a spouse at a reunion! What was it like for you?