Winding my way around Lake of the Isles one day this week, I caught a glimpse of two people lounging leisurely on a park bench. The bench was not really facing the lake but was positioned under an enormous oak tree whose shade created a canopy over the couple. Each held a book, hard cover, and they sat reading as if they had been walking along and the only right and sensible thing to do was to sit down and read for a while. I knowingly smiled and breathed more deeply as I passed them by.

The evening before I had read an essay by author Pat Conroy about the powerful joy of summer reading. He told of the summer reading lists he assigned himself as a child and how he continues to do that well into his later years. It was a practice he shared with his mother and sister. In the summer heat and humidity of his native South Carolina, these three lovers of books kept a stack from which they each drank liberally, sharing their insights and reviews with one another as the lazy, warm days unfolded.

I can relate. Many summers of my childhood were spent setting a goal of reading through a particular series or genre. From biographies to mysteries to romance novels, the summer was made even more luxurious as I was accompanied by characters and places foreign to my own life experience. It was like taking exotic vacations from the comfort of an easy chair. I still do this. While winter is ripe for curling under an afghan with a good book, summer time reading always seems to be blissful.

Books have the power to shape our lives in profound ways. I listened yesterday as our youngest son, now twenty years young, prepared to attend the midnight showing of the final Harry Potter film. He and friends were preparing their costumes and entering into an excitement that had accompanied not only the opening of the movies but also the arrival of the the newest book. He spoke of how these books had shaped and defined his childhood. “And now it is coming to an end.”‘ he said.

Indeed it is. Not only are the books ending and the films completing their cycle of life but most of those who began this journey as children are also coming into a new cycle of life. My hope is that these readers who squirreled away in their bedrooms to read the ever growing number of pages in this series, continue to find new authors, new characters, that capture them with such fervor. No doubt the ways in which they have been shaped by the adventures and pursuit of goodness of this boy wizard will always remain an inspiration tucked away in their memories. But other stories will, over time, capture their imaginations and their hearts. It is the deepest hope and desire of all authors to do just that.

There is a saying in Talmudic literature that says God created people because God loved stories. As humans who live stories both tragic and comedic, I can’t help but believe the Holy is never without a good tale. As humans who are shaped and inspired by the imagination of writers, poets and storytellers alike, there never seems to be enough of a good telling to satisfy our longings.

And so I give thanks today for all those who continue to spin the yarns that entertain and uplift, that offer wisdom and redemption, whose words preach caution and offer hope. May each of us find the perfect book, the best story, to keep us company through these summer days. May we find the cozy chair, the shaded bench or the well laid blanket that will allow for a respite from the work and obligations of life. And as we sink into the words that are before us, may we imagine the Spirit’s presence moving from the page to our heart, offering a connection with author and reader that has never been before and may never be again.

A holy, reading moment.