Journeys
In the name of God our Creator, Jesus our Redeemer, and the Holy Spirit our Sustainer. Amen.
Last Sunday I mentioned a trip Tim and I took many years ago through the north woods of Maine, using the images of that dark and rainy trip as an image of wilderness.
This week our readings speak of journeys, and I found myself again thinking of Maine, a place Tim and I spent many summer weeks, drawn there by friends who loved it, our mutual love of the water, and of Tim’s love of boats and boatbuilding. In fact, our first trip there was to Brooklin Maine, home of the Wooden Boat School, so Tim could take a class, and I could sit on the deck of our cottage, reading, crocheting, and snoozing!
We returned many times after that first visit, drawn by the weather, the beauty of the light, and the boats. One year Tim took a class from Harry Bryant, a renowned Canadian boatbuilder, a dear and amazingly creative man, and we became friends with Harry, and his wife Martha.
One October I had a month’s sabbatical from St. Christopher’s to study for my ordination exams, staying in Brunswick at a friend’s condo. And a good break from studying seemed to be a trip up to Canada to visit Harry and Martha in their totally off-the grid home.
So, here we are again, driving in the north woods. As hard as I worked to find another image, this one kept coming to me, so please forgive me, though I promise to add a few new details.
We first drove to Ellsworth Maine, and spent the night, to allow us a very early departure, taking one full day but no more from my studying for this trip.
Harry and Martha’s place was about 4 hours from Ellsworth, so we left pre-dawn in that lovely torrential rain. We had a good map, a GPS, and directions from Martha, and yet, as we headed out, onto unfamiliar 2-lane, winding roads, as the bright lights of Ellsworth faded into the darkness, and the rain poured down, well, it was a memorable drive, that may end up in a 3rd sermon of mine!
Most of the drive was on what the locals called the Airline Road, Highway 9 between Bangor and the Canadian border. As we drove, for the first few hours we could only see as far as the edge of our headlights, the rain dimmed lights revealing only the unabating rain, glimpses of the silhouettes of pine trees on both sides of the road, and an occasional sign announcing entry into something like “unorganized territory #43”, what we hopefully guessed were communities, though we saw no structures and no people.
As I said, I was drawn again to this experience of a journey as a number of our readings today are linked through the theme of journeys. I almost said, especially journeys where we cannot see far down the road, or we are not sure where we are going. But if we are honest with ourselves, that describes just about every journey!
Our Old Testament lesson from Genesis tells of God’s call to Abram:
“Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.”
God tells Abram to leave EVERYTHING he knows, all that is familiar in his life—people, home, place—and all God will give him is the first step; GO, go where I will show you. Will you go?
And if the answer is yes, God tells Abram, ok if yes, then I’ll show which direction to head, not the whole journey, just the next step. And amazingly, Abram says yes, and leaves all he knows, and takes his wife Sarai and his nephew Lot, and heads out to answer God’s call, with just that next step clear to him.
Our gospel reading from John tells of a much shorter journey, physically, but a mighty journey of the heart and mind. Nicodemus, a prominent and respected leader among the Jews, had heard of Jesus and his teaching, and Nicodemus is drawn to him.
But as a leader, and a powerful one, Nicodemus is afraid to seek Jesus out in the light of day, for fear his curiosity, his questions, this hint of a call from God, well, pursuing this call might lessen his stature.
So, Nicodemus seeks out Jesus in the dark of night.
Nicodemus’ journey is physically short, probably just a brief walk through Jerusalem, but a epic journey for his spirit, to act on the nudges he has felt from God to seek out Jesus to act, and risk, to take that first step, not knowing where it will lead.
Further in the gospel of John we will hear where this nighttime conversation in part did lead. After Jesus’ death on the cross, another prominent leader, Joseph of Arimathea, who, like Nicodemus, was drawn to Jesus, but feared losing status and power if he stepped out on a journey to follow him. After Jesus dies, it is Jospeh of Arimathea who asks Pontius Pilate for the body, to give Jesus a proper and dignified burial.
And who helps Joseph with the burial, bringing the expensive spices for burial? Nicodemus. Another step in his journey, this time in the light of day, as the sun sets on Good Friday.
He and Joseph, not bold enough to follow, perhaps regretting all that had held them back from risking, from knowing Jesus as friend and savior, but still, now doing something, doing what they can.
We all have regrets about what we lack the courage to do, but like Joseph and Nicodemus, there is always more of the journey, another invitation a nudge from God, another chance to do something. So, they prepare Jesus’ body quickly before sunset, and lay him in a tomb. They could do that.
Finally, our psalm today, the beautiful and beloved Psalm 121, offers us a roadmap forward, whether our journey is a call, a dark road, or a spiritual wrestling with things done and left undone.
The opening words of the psalm tell us the writer is facing some road—physical, emotional, spiritual—and it is a challenging and steep road:
“I lift up my eyes to the hills;
from where is my help to come?”
We have many choices as to where to look for our strength and help, often we look to ourselves, our own power and energy and strength.
Self-sufficiency has gotten many of us far. But eventually, life reminds us that we do not function well as our own gods.
We are not the center of the universe. And we face challenges, pain, sadness, limitations…that draw our eyes to the hills, the mountains ahead; how will we even take the first step in this journey?
Psalm 121 invites us to join the psalmist in putting our trust in the Lord. Six times in this short psalm the writer uses various forms of the word KEEP: God will keep us, God will preserve us, God will watch us, God will watch over us.
We may lose our grip, we may not have the strength or the courage to walk the first step of a journey we face, but God holds fast, God keeps us, always.
Well, after Tim and I had driven a couple of hours in the dark, through those “unorganized territories”, through the barely grey light of dawn, rain still falling, finally, the clouds lifted, the sun came out and we arrived safely at Harry and Martha’s.
And I find I don’t remember much about our drive back. We took a different route, a little longer, but an easier and more populated route, and oddly forgettable.
It seems that it is our difficult journeys that stay with us, those times, we might actually let ourselves call out….where will my help come from?
And we can find the one who will not let our foot be moved, who watches over us, and will not fall asleep.
Waiting on all our roads, all our journeys, to walk with us.
With us in our going out and our coming in, from this time forth, forever, forevermore.
Amen.