Showing posts with label Journey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Journey. Show all posts

Sunday, May 3, 2020

The Redemption Project - Walking in Darkness


On the afternoon of the day when the women woke early to find the tomb empty, we're told two guys set out for the town of Emmaus. While they walked they met a stranger. And since it was near sunset when they got to their destination, they invited the stranger to stay at their place for the night.

Of course, we as readers know who the stranger is before the fellows on the road. It seems obvious to us, even if we hadn't been told it was Jesus who met them. But he says nothing to them, waits in the living room while dinner is prepared. Then, at the table, he reveals himself.

I never noticed until this week that the two men who'd walked all the way from Jerusalem get up and make a return trip in the dark.

At that very hour, Luke tells us, they got up. At least a couple of hours have passed since the three of them left the road. The sun has now set, the stars have come out, and the near-full moon has risen. It's not the time to make a journey down a long road. But, that's exactly what they do.

Maybe I noticed this detail this year because Leanne and I have been, during this strange time, taking long walks after dinner. Many of them end up being after sunset; so, the sense of walking out in the nighttime was already with me when those two men got up from their table, after dinner, and headed out.

There's a metaphor in this scene. We can just read it as a reminder of the joy that should burn within us when we recognize that Christ is present with us. That though we can't see him or touch him, he's here both as an invisible presence and a visible one in those around us. But, I think that misses something that speaks to this moment in which we've found ourselves.

Darkness bookends the story of the Resurrection. The two women get up while it's still dark, before sunrise. And two men head back to Jerusalem in darkness after sunset. In both places, people are traveling, moving from one place to another. Going from grief to joy, and from amazement to community.

It's a metaphor that fits this present moment since it is one of darkness. It is a moment when our world is filled with the darkness of sorrow, pain, and grief. And it is one where we find ourselves in the dark, walking down a path that is suddenly unfamiliar. And, like the people in our stories, we have questions.

In this moment, it's a metaphor that doesn't provide any easy answers. It's simply a road sign showing the way. Before the sun rises and after it sets, the path we tread is often shadowed and strange. We don't understand what's happening or what it all means.

Though, I do notice in both these stories, no one is alone.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost


2 Kings 5:1-14


If you travel long enough and drive far enough you'll see them—what I've always heard called tourist traps. Maybe it's a giant ball of yarn, a shoe house, or life-sized dinosaurs. And no matter what it is, the signs raise a certain level of expectation about what's to come And if we are lured by their promise to leave the familiar road and wander some longer-than-expected way, we will find…well, probably a bit of disappointment. That's probably similar to what Naaman must have felt when he came to Israel for healing.


Now Elisha was no roadside attraction. But the young Israelite girl's advertising was what sent this war hero off on a long journey away from his familiar surroundings. And, based on his experience and the girl's words, he had some expectations. "Look, I said to myself, he will come out. And he will stand and call on the name of the Holy One his God. And wave his hand toward the place. And take away the leprosy." Naaman thought for sure he'd get to see a little magic act out of this prophet and healer.


But what he gets is not what he expected. Elisha tells him to simply go wash in the Jordan. "What," Naaman thinks. The rivers at home are just as good as the rivers here. In fact, they're better. I could have stayed at home if all I wanted to do was bathe in a river to get well. Why'd I come all this way anyhow?


Occasionally (okay, a lot), I've felt like Naaman. I feel God has led me to some particular place—a new city, a new job, even just a change in my routine—that I believe will allow me to serve God and grow as a person. But when I get there I find things aren't as I expected. And I wonder why I couldn't have stayed where I was. Wasn't that city or job just as good as this one if not better? Maybe I should just go back home.


When travelling, it is often scary to go off the familiar road. To turn off and follow the direction to some roadside attraction is to trust that we can find our way to them without getting lost. And, to truly appreciate them, we have to give up on the expectations we've built up in our minds. Otherwise, as Naaman nearly did, we risk missing out on the wonder and surprise that awaits us.


I've lost count of the many times I've wanted to pack up and go home because the off-road God has led me upon doesn't lead to where I expected it to lead. And I've begun to wonder, if, like Naaman, I could put my expectations aside I might find some miracle in that giant ball of yarn.


God of the unexpected, help me to put my expectations aside and, instead, look for what you are doing in my life.