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My heart beats for love. I want to be different. I want to be who I am called to be. WORTHY and LOVED!

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Senior Sermon - Psalm 121

I have firmly held that I would never preach from the psalms. Ever. They were just too human. How time can change us! Yes, the psalms are very human, displaying an array of complex emotions and deep questions, but perhaps that is make makes them so approachable (and I hope so preachable). In their poetic expressions we find a piece of our own story, an affirmation that we do not struggle in solitude.

Psalm 121 is labeled as a song of ascent – a text crafted and sung by pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem. There were several times a year when people were to make this journey to celebrate feasts together, in community. For many the journey was also made in community – as it was dangerous to travel long distances alone. Oh what we have to learn about daily living and pilgrimage from our ancestors in the Hebrew Scriptures. We need each other to not only travel together to reach our destination safely, but to simply survive each day.

When I think back on the times in my life when I’ve gotten myself in the most trouble, it’s been times when I have wandered. Sometimes this was actual physical wandering, like when I was in Russia and a good friend and I decided it would be a good idea to go for a walk at 11 o’clock at night by ourselves (hint: it was not a good idea) or a mental wandering where I try to position myself as mentally superior. Emotionally I’ve wandered away when unprovicated fears of being wounded have kept me from being part of community. I have tried to justify my wandering by substituting in the word independent, but that is merely a gloss over my own pride, and weighty words do not make the reality of the trouble I’ve gotten into any less present.

So I ask, when have been the times in your life when you feel like you just aren’t in the right place? Where you’ve gotten into trouble? Is there a distinct pattern of an absence of community with you when you’ve wandered as well?

Just as we do not journey through life without community, we do not journey without God’s presence. In fact we are both traveling with God, and towards a deeper relationship with the Divine. Such complexities are what the psalmist seems to be rejoicing in with today’s text. God is the creator of the world, everything from the sky to the tangible soil, yet the Holy One cares about the single footsteps of the poet. God reigns yet is in relationship. Yahweh, the Guardian of an entire community, and of each being in that community, looking after our entire lives. Providing shelter when it is needed along the journey, providing sustenance for this pilgrimage of life. Going before us when we set our sites towards something bigger then ourselves, and comes back with us when we return to share our experience with others. It all is just beyond our grasp.

Lest we think that this psalm is alluding to an easy journey, we have to remember what the pilgrimage to Jerusalem would have been like – depending on where you were coming from you could cross mountains and valleys, and trek through dry areas that didn’t support life. There had to be moments when the pilgrims would think that they were almost there – had almost reached their destination, only to find that yet another mountain lay ahead of them. Along the way there could be times where provision seemed to be absent, where the people feared strangers, and there was the real reality of harm. The psalmist seems to recognize this and ask, looking towards Jerusalem, where does my help come from? In other words, how can I ever take the first step on such a potentionally treterious journey without help – an aid that can only come from God, who is traveling with the people along a road marked with hardship, not one of safety and security.

Throughout history many novels have been written about the Christian pilgrimage including Pilgrim’s Progress and The Way of the Pilgrim, but while it may seem sacrilegious the story of pilgrimage that comes to mind is The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. While Dorothy sets off on the journey to find the wizard alone, she is soon forms a community with the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and Lion along the yellow brick road. There are dangers along their path, including the jitterbug and the field of poppies, yet they preserve thinking that their journey would end at the Emerald City with the wizard. Of course the twist is that the wizard then sends them on another, more dangerous mission, to destroy the wicked witch of the west. One journey quickly leads to another and another, from Winkie Country back to Emerald City and then home to Kansas.

As we approach this Lenten season, I sometimes feel more akin to the story of Dorothy then anything else. I feel like I’m moving through a wilderness, following a yellow brick road for a time, but often becoming distracted from it. And just when I think I’ve made it, I’m left with yet another leg of the pilgrim’s journey and more questions then answers. Pilgrimage is often thought to be this idealized time where one is moving towards a goal, but how can we move towards something with so many dangers and high mountains blocking our view? During those times where the end seems unknown it is hard to remember that the journey itself is something beautiful and mysterious, even in its trials. That community is built with every step we take.

I am a planner. I love to make lists upon lists both more my daily life and when I travel, hoping that the lists will help prevent any dangers that can arise out of uncertainty. So when I went with Drew and the Greater New Jersey Conference on a pilgrimage to Taize, the hardest part of the trip was relquinishing control to someone else – a leader who I didn’t even know. At one point this leader asked for our passports to keep in safe keeping – which I fought with every ounce of my being because it went against the basic travel rules I had been taught as a teenager. But more then that it was literally handing my ability to leave to someone else, essentially tethering me to him so I could leave France. While there are many beautiful things about Taize and I find something new from the experience being applied to my life post-pilgrimage every day, the biggest lesson I learned, the lesson I’m still wrestling with was about control.

What a hard lesson to apply during this journey of lent. During this time when those around us are trying to exercise self-control by giving something they enjoy up in order to grow deeper in relationship with God. But along this Lenten pilgrimage, are our acts of self-denial leading us to discover what the psalmist is stating about God being the creator and guardian? Are we learning to trust God and each other more? Or is our Lenten journey, like my pilgrimage to Taize really shining a light on how independent we are and fearful to relinquish control to either others or God? What are we setting our sights on during the remaining weeks? Are we really looking for our help to come from the Lord or is this something that we can do on our own? Are we approaching Lent as a safe time or do we see it as a dangerous time, full of growth that can possibly hurt? And are we going along this journey together, in community, tethered with others and with God? Or are we seeing this as a time when we are more isolated from our neighbors?

In the end, pilgrims tend to be more about the total experience then reaching the destination – it’s about returning from a time marked in a different way and trying to integrate what you’ve learned into your daily life. In the end, that experience may lead to more questions – about God, others, and ourselves – then answers. And maybe that is what makes pilgrimages, and this time of Lent, so dangerous and yet so revealing. We are journeying into the mystery, expecting to find something but not knowing what it is. Holy mysteries for Divine change. So may this Lenten season be one marked by journey after journey for you, with each step leading to something unexpected and beautiful. May you travels be embarked in community, and constantly look for your help in our Lord.