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April 18, 2010 - Easter Sunday
Rev. Judith Bither

Words for Meditation

 

Journey Through Life

During the Sundays following Easter the lectionary turns to “The Acts of the Apostles” which we usually shorten to call simply “Acts”. The word acts is short for actions, so the book of Acts explains to us the Actions of the followers of Jesus in the First Century. It attempts to answer the question: How will we continue our life in Christ when Jesus is no longer standing among us?  This was a fearful question for the disciples who had not yet experienced themselves as the church, but as a band of followers very dependent on their Lord or leader.

There are many ways to read the Bible, two of which are to read it for information and the other to read it for trans-formation. The latter is often referred to as reading the Bible formationally or to let it form you spiritually.

For example, to read the text in Acts for this morning as information we would notice all the places Paul tried to go and where and how he eventually traveled. To read it formationally causes us to pause and ask some questions:

  • What is God forming in me through this scripture?

  • How is God forming me from this passage?

Most of the Bible can be experienced this way, although some parts more so than others. The Psalms can certainly be formational because they speak so clearly of the wide breadth of human emotions and feelings. Psalm 30 that we read responsively is a good example: You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy! Who among us hasn’t known grief? And who among us hasn’t known incredible joy?

The Book of Acts can also be a powerful tool for spiritual formation if we read ourselves into the story. Acts, you remember, comes right after the four gospels, which tell the story of Jesus from four different points of view. Acts, which was written by the author of Luke’s gospel, lets us know what happened in those first years after Jesus left. More specifically Acts traces the journeys of Paul and his friends.

How might we view the journeys of Paul like our own journey through life? Each one of us is on a journey and as our congregation is on a collective journey as well. In the lesson for today we read that Paul made the decision in the middle of the night to go to Macedonia.

This was not his first choice. He wanted to go to Asia, but ran into obstructions. Then he tried to go to Bithynia in ancient Turkey, but again his way was blocked. Everywhere he turned, Paul found a closed door. While in Troas he found an open door to Macedonia.

Looking at Paul’s journey and our own we might say that life can be like driving over Donner Summit in the winter…or for that matter in the fall or spring! There have been great improvements over the years, but it’s not always a quick trip. And yet what breath-taking beauty we experience along the way. Climbing up to the summit and down the other side we edge along canyons, drive next to lakes and creeks and over rivers. We see rock out-croppings and beautiful mixed forests. On my last trip over a coyote ran in front of my car. One never knows what one will experience!

My point is that the road over Donner Summit is not always predictable. There can be obstacles, blind corners, steep grades and dangerous curves that can be icy. It’s just like our journey through life! Often we find obstacles to where we are trying to go. We have to wait, turn back, change plans or go in a new direction altogether.

Right now some of us are not where we want to be in life

  • Geographically or financially

  • Educationally or spiritually

  • Professionally or personally

  • Emotionally or romantically

Roadblocks have turned us another way. Avalanches have delayed our plans. Perhaps it was an unexpected or untimely death or marital problems; a serious illness, the loss of a job or house; or a child (even a grown child) in trouble. There are all kinds of events that occur that are roadblocks to our goals or the direction we had chosen.

Yes, life can be like crossing Donner Summit in a winter storm. There will be drifting snow, high winds and low visibility. Even during the summer a freak snowstorm and most certainly road construction or slow moving trucks can surprise us. Other times the drive is clear and smooth. Always it’s beautiful if we can take in the view.

Now to us, whether Paul went to Turkey or Asia really doesn’t make all that much difference. But it made all the difference to the Christian Church. Because it was then that Paul crossed the Aegean Sea into Europe!

Once in Italy Paul planted the seeds of the gospel in the fertile soil where it would grow, blossom and bear fruit. Because Paul couldn’t go to Turkey, he kept going to Athens, Corinth and eventually all the way to Rome which became the center for the whole church for centuries.

But let’s review the facts: Paul went to Macedonia when his life seemed like a failure. He failed to journey where he had planned to go! But God took the failure and opened up a new road.

Sometimes it does seem like our personal lives are avalanched. That’s when we need a new approach. There are several options:

  • Perhaps taking time to wait patiently for the road to reopen;

  • Perhaps it’s time to turn around and go home;

  • Perhaps we have to remove the barriers that are obstructing the road;

  • Or we need to find a different road that may mean arriving at an unexpected place all together!

Remember that Luke wrote the Book of Acts looking back at what had taken place. As it’s said “hindsight is 20-20”! Paul went to Macedonia. But he tells us more—the Holy Spirit did not let Paul go to Asia; the Spirit of Jesus kept Paul from Turkey. You see, God doesn’t plan the avalanches, but God does use them! Paul had a commitment to Christ, so when one door closed, he tried another. When he was shipwrecked, thrown into prison and beaten, he wrote letters of encouragement to the new struggling churches and friends; he sang hymns of praise and converted his jailers!

Finding our way through an avalanched road or finding an open door may take a lifetime or may even come to us very late in life. Such was the case for 82-year-old widow Cora Sludge in the novel “Breaking Out of Bedlam” by Leslie Larson. Novels can also be sources for spiritual formation! The book begins when 300 pound Cora (who can barely walk and stays stoned on tranquilizers), is moved out of her home and into assisted living by her three children. The novel consists of three journals that she writes while living in “The Palisades”.

During the course of her journals the reader discovers where Cora’s deep pain is rooted: in the sudden infant death of her first born daughter at 6 months old. For 65 years she buried the pain and guilt for her infant’s death deep in her psyche.

Even her three living children do not know they had a sister. Over the course of a year in the assisted living facility Cora falls in love with another patient, loses almost 100 pounds, gets off the pills starts walking again. She hated living in the facility and wants nothing more than to return to her own home and dog. But she has to take the journey of getting to the core of her pain. She finally journals about the horrific experience of burying her infant daughter, Alice, so many years before. After writing out the details she wrote these words:

Shame’s like a plant that needs repotting. When it fills up your whole body, sends its roots and creepers into every ounce of flesh so there’s no room for anything else—then it sends runners out in all directions, looking for new soil to grow in. You get to not only hating yourself, but everybody you know. You get to thinking they’re the ones that’s shaming you, like the crime was theirs in the first place. Pretty soon everything is tainted. You don’t know if the shame is coming from the inside or the outside, but nothing is right and nobody is worth loving, or even liking. You don’t want nothing for yourself, but what other people has burns you up, makes you mad that they can still enjoy listening to a song or visiting friends or going for a Sunday drive. This is what I’m starting to realize as I write all this about Alice, like my eyes have been slowing opening.

Talking about Alice has been like burying her all over again, but this time I feel like I’m putting her to rest, like she can finally sleep. She can stop this feverish living inside me and go be with her own kind, go to that other place and leave me be.

Now that I have told my story, it’s like I was looking down on myself from up above, like there’s no ceiling to my room and from the sky I saw me in the middle of this cinder-block square, sitting here in this chair with my book in front of me. It has been my life-line, the rope pulling me back to myself.

Cora Sledge, I forgive you. I pity the girl you were and the shame you’ve suffered. I’m not feeling sorry for you like I’ve done year after year. I’m opening my heart to the sorrow I feel. Though the tears are sluicing down my face and I’m rocking back and forth in my chair. I feel a calm because I forgive you. A space is opening in my heart. I didn’t know how much pain was there until now, when it melted away and peace came to take its place.

It took Cora 65 years, 65 years, a reminder that it’s never too late to melt away whatever pain may be stifling our living life to the fullest. How I can imagine Cora being drawn to Psalm 30: You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy.

What she wrote was this:

I pray now as I did as a little girl—not needing to understand. I ask for simple things. Let me not hurt. Let me not be hungry, or cold. Please keep my loneliness at bay.

I used to pray to keep my ma and daddy safe, but that wasn’t no use. I prayed for gifts at Christmas and to win the school prize. I prayed to be slim, so no one would make fun of me. That didn’t happen either. I asked Jesus to protect my kids. Look what happened.

Now I have a new prayer. Heal my heart. Please I ask. Calm its pain, soothe its scars. Keep it open, Lord, despite everything—reaching for life, ready to love.

May it be so in our lives wherever we travel, whatever obstacles we encounter, that we cling to the faith that sustains us; that we keep our hearts open—despite everything—reaching for life and ready to love.

In Jesus’ name and for his sake. Amen

 

 

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