Journeys

First, let’s hear some more of the story. The last we heard of Abraham’s story was, “So Abram went, as the Lord had told him, and Lot went with him.” Actually, other people went too, so here’s a little more of the story. “Abram was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran. Abram took his wife Sarai and his brother’s son Lot, and all the possessions that they had gathered, and the persons whom they had acquired in Haran; and they set forth to go to the land of Canaan. When they had come to the land of Canaan, Abram passed through the land to the place at Shechem, to the oak of Moreh…. Then the Lord appeared to Abram, and said, ‘To your offspring I will give this land.’ So he built there an altar to the Lord, who had appeared to him. From there he moved on to the hill country on the east of Bethel, and pitched his tent, with Bethel on the west and Ai on the east; and there he built an altar to the Lord and invoked the name of the Lord. And Abram journeyed on by stages towards the Negeb” (Gen. 12:4-9).

Abraham heard God’s call to move. Imagine it. He was seventy-five. Sarah was perhaps ten years younger. Although they had no children, they must have had many servants, animals, tents, cookware, clothing, and other possessions. They had lived all their lives in one place, among family and friends. They had welcomed their nieces and nephews, their great nieces and great nephews. They had walked their flocks and herds over the same hills and valleys for decades. They were respected elders in their clan. Now they were called to gather the flocks and herds, pack up all their goods, say their good-byes, and literally walk away. They faced a perilous journey. Would they survive the desert heat, the wild animals, and the bandits? Would they find sufficient food and water? And where was “the land that I will show you?” And all this on the strength of an absurd promise: “I will make of you a great nation.” Can’t you just imagine Abraham answering God, “You haven’t even given me kids. You’re going to make me a ‘great nation?’”

But, amazingly, they went. What a lot of courage, moxie, and faith, that journey must have taken. At each place along the way they stopped and recognized God’s presence with them. Did they eventually come to see that God was with them everywhere? On this arduous journey, did their trust in God deepen? Did the physical move from Ur to Canaan also turn out to be a spiritual journey? We’ll never know. We do know, though, that they continued to wander for some years, that they received God’s promise a second time, that Abraham argued with God, that they entertained angels unawares, that Sarah finally gave birth to Isaac, and that Abraham was even willing to sacrifice Isaac at God’s call. Ultimately, their story is too far back in time for us to know much more. Even so, God fulfilled God’s promises. Abraham did become a great nation, and he has become a paradigm of faith for three of the world’s major religious traditions.

Nicodemus was also on a journey, a journey that was more spiritual than physical. Imagine, if you will, what this visit to Jesus must have been like for Nicodemus, what courage it must have taken him to venture out. He was a respected elder of the Pharisees, a community that deeply revered the covenant that God had made with the Jews at Sinai and that tried diligently to live according to their understanding of the Law of Moses. No wonder Nicodemus came by night. He would have had much to lose if he had been seen by his fellows. Did he have to psych himself up for it? What excuse did he give his family for venturing out so late?

Even though he was a leader of his community, Nicodemus treated Jesus with great respect. Jesus was not of the priestly or scholarly clans, and had not been formally ordained, yet Nicodemus addressed him as “Rabbi.” He even acknowledged that Jesus had given signs that he had “come from God.” Nicodemus was clearly a spiritual seeker. And he wanted to know concretely who Jesus was and what God was up to.

Did Nicodemus get a straight answer to his query? Almost like a Zen master, Jesus challenged the realist Nicodemus, answering him in what surely sounded – and still sound – like riddles. Jesus invited Nicodemus to begin a journey of reflection and spiritual transformation. As the image of physical birth suggests, it would be a painful and arduous journey. It would be a journey as risky spiritually as Abraham’s journey was physically, and with an equally unknown destination. It would be a journey that would move Nicodemus beyond the certainties of the law toward recognition of God’s love for all people, Jews and Gentiles alike.

Did Nicodemus get it? It’s hard to tell from the gospel account, since the evangelist moves the camera away from Nicodemus and instead has Jesus launch into a lengthy speech. However, Nicodemus comes into the story twice more, when he later defends Jesus before the Sanhedrin, and then after Jesus’ death when he provides spices for Jesus’ burial. Some think that he then became a respected leader of the fledgling Christian community. Whether or not he did, with his courage in approaching Jesus, his questions, his confusion, and his honest seeking, Nicodemus too has become a paradigm of the spiritual life, especially of the transformation that an encounter with Jesus can provoke.

Wally Underwood was also on a journey, though he didn’t know it at first. As Fr. Lenny Stephens was enjoying a rare quiet evening at home, Wally’s eldest daughter Val knocked on Lenny’s door. After introducing herself, she announced to an astonished Lenny, “The baby, Father, the baby … the baby needs doin.’ Mum said I should get it sorted. So, here I am, wi’ the baby, to see when she can be done.” Finding his voice, Lenny got the baby’s name, Madonna Cheryl, asked when she’d been born, and got other needed details. Then he asked about Madonna’s father. “No idea,” was the unembarrassed reply. ‘Whoever he is’ll do nothin’ anyway. So no point in tryin’ to find out. Baby’ll just be part o’ the family, so ma mum says.” “Who can come with you to church and stand with you,” Lenny asked, “if there’s no father for the baby?” “Oh, that’s no bother,” Val replied. “Ah’ll tell ma dad to come.”

And so Madonna’s grandfather Wally Underwood showed up at church the following Sunday. He was a sight quite unlike anyone Lenny had seen before: rumpled suit, three-days growth on his face, hair only partly plastered down, and horn-rimmed glasses repaired with the proverbial Band-Aid. On subsequent Sundays, he fell asleep during the sermons, though he did wake up for the offering. He stood up and sat down at the wrong time, until he learned the system from the gracious folks who were always ready to help him. At the appropriate time Wally stood proudly beside his daughter on the day Madonna Cheryl Underwood was finally “done,” as the family had wished.

Val Underwood never came back to the church. But Wally did, even when he didn’t have to. He was still unshaven, and his suit was still rumpled. He began to stay awake for the sermons, and he joined a parish men’s group. He came to the annual parish retreat – in his rumpled suit. He became part of the church family.

Fr. Lenny was enjoying another rare quiet evening at home, when there came a knock on his door. It was Wally. “Wally,” Lenny asked, “what brings you here? Everything all right?” “Sure, everythin’s sorted, Father. It’s just that I needed to ask you something.” “Ask away,” Lenny replied. “Well, it’s like this,” Wally continued, “I heard you say in church on Sunday that there was to be a Confirmation Class soon, and I wondered if it would be OK to come along.”

We are on a journey. Like the characters in all our stories, we are on physical and spiritual journeys. All of us are experiencing the physical changes wrought by time on our bodies. Many of us have moved physically, to new places, new jobs, new relationships, and new church communities. We understand the fear and courage such moves entail. As we make these changes, like Abraham we too discover that God is part of the transformations occurring in our lives. Many of us are also like Nicodemus. We wrestle with things of the Spirit. We wish for more clarity than we have, more certainty that we are in the right place spiritually. We know how difficult spiritual growth and transformation are. And some of us are like Wally. One day the Spirit reaches out to us and begins pulling us along to a perhaps unexpected place. And finally we find ourselves asking, perhaps timidly, “Would it be OK if I came along too?”

We can count on this: God will continue to lead us. Ultimately we can trust that God’s love is greater than anything we can imagine, and with Jesus as our travelling companion we will reach our final destination in God.