June 30, 2019
Next Sunday I will be on the road.
I am driving to our cabin near Ely, Minnesota, in the far northeastern corner of the state. My first stop is Coeur d’Alene, Idaho; then Billings, Montana; then Bismarck, North Dakota; and, finally, Eagles’ Nest Lake, #3, the lake on which our cabin sits, just outside the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.
I’ve spent quite of bit of time planning my trip. I’ll be driving through five states and three time zones, on two interstates, until I get to Minnesota. Then it will be state highways as I work my way across the state.
At first, I thought I would try to make it in three days, but then decided I didn’t need to push myself that hard. Since I will be arriving late and leaving early, all I really need is a bed and a bathroom. Because of my good experience staying at Airbnb’s in Eugene for Yoga Teacher Training, I have booked three along the way.
Each town has several Starbucks Coffee shops, so I won’t have any problem getting my morning coffee. I’ll also be taking a couple of bags of food supplies for when I get hungry or bored. I’ll be listening to the Great Course, entitled, “How to listen to and understand great music,” (shout out to Heather Romano!) as well as Amazon Music through my phone.
While I don’t expect any problems, who knows? I’ve planned as well as could. The rest I will just need to leave to God.
That’s what Jesus wants the disciples to do.
We have come to a turning point in the gospel story. “When the days grew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” We know what lays ahead for him. The disciples, despite Jesus’ words foretelling the events he faces, remain pretty much clueless.
Their first reaction as they set out on this trip is triumphalism. They seek to enter a Samaritan town, but Jesus is turned away because he is going to Jerusalem. This is likely based a long-standing feud between Samaria and Israel. But we don’t need to get into that in order to see the self-righteousness that undergirds the attitude of the disciples.
It is the same attitude that came up a few verses earlier when the disciples are arguing among them who is the greatest, only this time it has a geo-political contest. It’s almost as if the disciples, with Jesus heading to the big city, sense that now is their moment and they begin to sing, “We are the champions of the world!”
Jesus rebukes the disciples. We don’t know exactly what he says here. But, at the beginning of the next chapter, in his extended teaching about missionary work, Jesus instructs them that, if they are not received in any particular village, they are simply to shake the dust off their shoes and keep preaching. Just move on, he seems to tell them, and don’t let them distract you from your kingdom work.
Then a number of people come to Jesus and express a desire to follow him. Jesus does not seem to speak to them directly but speaks in aphorisms – sayings that express a general truth. While we tend to take these as words of judgement, I think they are words of teaching. Most of what we get from Jesus from here on out is teaching. There is very little action between here and Jerusalem. The focus, until we near the climax of the story, is on the words of Jesus.
Following him is not always easy, especially given what lays ahead. So, Jesus teaches the disciples. He provides them teachings on-the-go, even as he progresses to his final destination.
Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.
Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.
No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.
The disciples, it is safe to say, don’t really hear Jesus. They are already looking forward to celebrating the victory of Jesus over the Roman troops and ousting the Temple hierarchy. Their heads are filled with dreams, relishing their role in this new state of things.
The disciples are oblivious to what they’re getting into. But maybe that’s a good thing. Because if they did, they would quickly find other things to do.
When I finally received my first letter of call from to a after 22 years of school and an anxious summer of waiting, I was surprised to find how panicked I felt. What on earth was I getting myself into? I thought. So, I asked a professor about it. He said, “Well, getting a call is kind of like getting married. If you really knew what you were getting into, you’d never go through with it.”
Transitions are hard. Uncertainty is hard. Jesus is helpful for such a time. I would paraphrase Jesus’ aphorisms in this way:
There are no assurances about what is ahead. Life – even the life of a disciple – is uncertain.
So, prioritize your life. Ask yourself what is really important. Then do that.
And don’t wait. Don’t put off what is of primary importance until tomorrow. Try to do one concrete thing each day that aligns with that priority.
Transitions are filled with uncertainty. We don’t really know what we’re getting into. Unexpected things can and do happen. So, we plan what we can and let go of the rest.
It also helps to prioritize, so we can stay focused on what is most important and not worry too much about extraneous things, especially things we can’t control. No matter what happens, there are still things we can do to keep our lives centered.
And the things that are most important? Don’t put them off until tomorrow. Don’t wait until a later date. Don’t fall into the trap of thinking, “I still have plenty of time.” There is no time like the present.
So, what is most important thing right now? I’m not going to say good-bye. I may see you again. Neither am I going to say, “See you later!” I may not see you later. Once the new pastor is here, I plan to make myself scarce. You may see me at the grocery store or the gym or any place around town, but I will not come back here for some time.
What I’d like to do today is to say, “Thank you.” Many of you have already been saying, “Thank you,” to me in the last few weeks. Let me do that now for you.
Thank you for your warm welcome of me last September. Thank you for your kind support of me throughout the year. Thank you for your appreciation of my worship leadership and my preaching. Thank you for your encouragement in my yoga teacher training. Thank you for Bible studies and Book clubs. Thank you for your voices in singing and your devotion in worship. Thank you for inviting me into this opportunity to do ministry and this chance to get to know you.
As Sylvia said to me yesterday, “This has been a good gig for you.”
It has. So, thank you.
If you drive past the parsonage where we live on Fir Island Road and follow it out past Snow Goose Produce and Rexville Grocery, you will come to a small handmade sign along Best Road that reads, “Closed for now.” Not “Closed for the season,” or “Closed for repairs,” or even simply, “Closed.” It just says, “Closed for now.”
Every time I drive by it, I am intrigued by that sign. I have no idea what exactly is closed. I have no idea if I would even be interested in it, if it were open. If I was, however, I would feel frustrated. I would want to have some idea when they were going to reopen so I could plan my next trip. Or, if I knew they were never going to reopen, I might feel anxious, wondering if would be able to get what I need. Either way, the uncertainty would be frustrating to me.
But I imagine that for the owner there is a certain freedom in not saying when or even whether the business will reopen. No commitments, no promises. Maybe yes. Maybe no. “Closed for now.”
I could say that about my interim work. “Closed for now.” I am going away for a while. If you need me in September, I can come back. If the new pastor is ready to begin work, I will not be back. It is uncertain. While that could feel frustrating, we could also imagine that there is a certain freedom in that uncertainty. “In September, we’re either going to have a new pastor, or we’re going to get Pastor Chris back. Either way, we win! It’s gonna be great!”
The future is uncertain. Uncertainty, while it can produce anxiety, is also a state of openness – openness to new things – openness to the new things that God is doing in Jesus – openness to the new things God is doing at First – openness to the new things God is doing in us.
And anxiety itself is an invitation to trust – to trust that nothing happens outside of God’s care – that we do not happen outside of God’s care. No matter what road we take – no matter where that road leads – no matter what happens along the way – we are never outside of God’s care.
For as Jesus heads to Jerusalem, to be betrayed and denied and rejected and sentenced and crucified for us, we can know that there is nothing that can happen to us on this road – or any road – that will separate us from God’s love.
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