Many years ago, when our children were young, we were visiting the Oregon coast and Susan and I said to one another, “It would be fun sometime, to live at the beach for a year just to see what winter is like.” We have now lived at the beach - or at least close enough to walk there each day - and I’m not sure that I really know exactly what the weather at the beach is like. I’ve seen it when the snow came right down to the water. I’ve seen it when the wind is blowing whitecaps on the water. I’ve seen it in the driving rain. I’ve seen it in the sunshine and the fog and even on days when the skies are smoky. But I still feel a bit like a tourist. I don’t really know all that the beach has to offer when it comes to weather.

As we headed off for a walk yesterday, I commented to Susan that there must be a low pressure system offshore. The wind was at our backs as we started toward the beach. An offshore wind isn’t as common as an onshore wind, but the wind blows a lot around here and we’ve seen it come from every direction. As it turned out, I think that there must have been a cold front and the low pressure system was just reaching the beach as we did. By the time we walked down the hill, the wind was nearly calm. When we walked along the beach, I could feel a breeze blowing onto the shore from the sea. The water was nearly calm, with just a few waves on the incoming tide. On our walk back up to our house, we felt the winds swirl and then turn around again and by the time we got back home the wind was at our face as we walked the last little bit.

I know about wind shear from my years as a pilot. The upper level winds don’t always blow the same direction as the winds lower down. When there is a big shift in the direction of upper and lower level winds, there is plenty of turbulence in the area between the two layers. Flying an airplane through wind shear can cause the plane to yaw and turn, sometimes as much as 90 degrees. Yesterday we got to walk right through the wind shear. The wind wasn’t strong enough to blow us around, but it was making the branches on the trees dance. It rained off and on most of the day yesterday so the leaves that had fallen were mostly stuck to the ground. I suspect that had they been dryer they would have blown in circles.

I’m not much of a sailor but I’ve hung around sailors enough to know that they are full of sayings about the wind and the weather. “Red sky in the morning, sailor take warning. Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.” This saying has been around for over 2,000 years. Jesus commented on it. In Matthew’s Gospel it says, “When it is evening, you say, "It will be fair weather; for the sky is red." And in the morning, "It will be stormy today, for the sky is red and threatening." You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times” (Matthew 16:2b - 3). The story is reported slightly differently in Luke, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you say at once, "A shower is coming"; and so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, "There will be scorching heat"; and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky; but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?” (Luke 12:54-56).

Somehow, I find it comforting to read that Jesus talked about the weather with his disciples. One of my beloved professors used to say that he didn’t have time for small talk. He wanted to get right to conversations about meaning and purpose and vocation. I loved the challenges that he put before us, including the challenge of diving right into serious conversation every time we met. Now, as I approach the age that he was when we met, I find that I am not quite the same. I spend considerable time engaged in small talk. Sometimes it takes me quite a while to get around to serious conversation. When I lead a group, I allow for a bit of small talk at the beginning of each session. When I read through the archives of my journal entries, there are way more entries about the weather than I think should be in a serious journal. It seems that I’m often writing about the weather. Perhaps it is a skill I learned from spending seven years among North Dakota farmers. If you walk into any cafe in rural North Dakota (and face it, all of North Dakota is rural, really) you will find people talking about the weather. It doesn’t matter whether it is sunny or snowing, freezing cold or simmering heat, North Dakotans talk about the weather. These are not shallow people. They are educated and they are serious thinkers. It is not difficult to engage them in serious philosophical or theological discussions. But they do talk about the weather a lot.

When I think about the closest friends I have in my life, I realize that I can talk to them about the big things and about the little things. The people with whom I am willing to share my doubts and fears and my most joyous celebrations are also people to whom I like to report the weather and the little things I see as I go on my walks. Susan and I have been married, living together, and sharing our careers for nearly 50 years, and we still find ourselves talking about the weather and the hair color of the clerk in the grocery store. We have talked about the big things and the little things for all of our lives.

So, as the Pacific northwest enters its rainy season and the winds are blowing outside, I’ll probably write about the weather in my journal. After all, I continue to be a disciple of Jesus, and I can quote scripture to prove that Jesus spoke not only of justice and mercy and the meaning of life, but also about the weather.