Journeys are usually fraught with questions
at the front end. Does the itinerary work? Can I get a plane fare that won’t
require a second mortgage? Will the dog-sitter be able to manage my
recalcitrant beagle? Will the hotel be to my liking? Will I be able to find
food that doesn’t give me indigestion? Will I be stuck sitting next to someone
on the tour bus who chatters incessantly?
I’m sure you can fill in the blanks with
other questions that have run through your mind at the onset of a journey.
Jesus is once again journeying through the
countryside in his ministry in today’s Gospel, and he is dealing with
questions, but they aren’t his own internal questions, such as the ones I
mentioned a moment ago. No, instead, as a rabbi/teacher, he’s responding to a
question from a fellow-traveler: “what
do I do to get eternal life?” We’d say it a little differently: “how do I get
to heaven?” And another way of looking at it is looking at THE NATURE of the
journey…
I’ve got an endpoint, a goal. What’s my road
map?
Now some of us here are old enough to be able
to read actual paper maps. Some of us remember ordering a TripTik map from AAA –
a sequence map of do this, turn here, this is a toll road, now get off here,
and so forth.
Its current day digital counterpart is a GPS
system. I relied on a GPS app, Waze, to get me here this morning. Worked
spendidly, and I needed it, given that I had only had a single cup of coffee
when I left the house.
These are great tools to get us to a goal.
But when Jesus responds to the fellow who
asks the question, this rich young man, he suggests a different kind of map.
The young man is asking for a TripTik or a
GPS system, and Jesus says, “it’s as much about the nature of the journey
as it is about the destination. You’re focused the endpoint. Focus instead on how
you do the journey.”
It’s sort of like a Michelin Guide. Anyone
here ever use those red Michelin books?
Yes, they’ve got maps, the
old-fashioned kind that would make me dream about going to far-off places when
I was a child. But they’ve got a whole bunch more, like special attractions.
And like listings of restaurants along the way. Because the French certainly
understand that a vital part of any journey is eating along the way. It’s truly
a shift from destination to the way of the journey.
I love their rating system for restaurants. They
give stars.
Zero stars? Like an Applebees? Meh…
·
: "A very good restaurant in its
category" (Une très bonne table dans sa catégorie)
: "A very good restaurant in its
category" (Une très bonne table dans sa catégorie)
·
: "Excellent cooking, worth a
detour" (Table excellente, mérite un détour)
: "Excellent cooking, worth a
detour" (Table excellente, mérite un détour)
·
: "Exceptional cuisine, worth a
special journey" (Une des meilleures tables, vaut le voyage)
: "Exceptional cuisine, worth a
special journey" (Une des meilleures tables, vaut le voyage)
The only three-star Michelin restaurant I
know near here is the Inn at Little Washington. My husband and I went there for
dinner for a major anniversary before I was a priest. It was phenomenal.
Phenomenally expensive, too, but a lifetime memory. I’m glad I have that
memory, because I surely couldn’t afford it these days. But it was without a
doubt worth a special journey, vaut le
voyage!
I don’t know about your GPS, but Waze NEVER
suggests a restaurant that’s vaut le
voyage! I can ask it where’s a restaurant nearby, but usually the
restaurants are the fast-food kind, not anything that’s worth a detour, much
less a special journey.
But that Michelin Guide, it says the journey
is as important as the destination. Very French, but also, in a way, very
Jesus.
Because let’s look at what Jesus says in
response to the rich young man’s question: “You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You
shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false
witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.’” He said to him,
“Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.” Jesus, looking at him, loved
him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to
the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
In other words, don’t just follow the TripTik
or your GPS, go out of your way to live INTO this journey, don’t just take a
detour and think that’s enough, take a SPECIAL trip that’s probably way out of
your comfort zone to get to the most precious thing: eternal life.
Love each other. Love the lovable. Love the
unlovable. Democrats, love Republicans. Republicans, love Democrats.
Facebookers, don’t unfriend the people who post things you disagree with – love
them and enter into civil and honorable dialogue with them. Give until it hurts,
even to those you think don’t deserve your gift. Remember, if we go all “Judgy
McJudgerson” on others, imagine what God could do in judging us.
Now our rich young man really has a problem
with Jesus’ Michelin Guide to eternal life, because he has many things, and the
idea of giving them all away for the benefit of the poor? Not so attractive.
And that creates yet another question about
the journey, from those who have listened to this whole exchange and wonder if
anyone, particularly anyone with STUFF, can get to heaven. And here’s the one
sentence that turns the whole thing on its head: Jesus says, “For mortals it is impossible, but not
for God; for God all things are possible.”
For God
all things are possible.
I expect
that for some of us here, during this time of transition, there were many
moments of worry. Many moments of “what will be possible?”
You
worried about what would await you after your beloved Rev. DR retired.
God provided
Rev. JP, a wise and warm temporary shepherd.
You
worried about what sorts of candidates your Search Committee would receive.
God
provided a good and healthy pool of candidates for their prayerful
consideration.
You
worried if the final recommended candidate would meet the scrutiny of the
Vestry.
God
assured that the candidate did, with flying colors, because the Search
Committee did their work listening for God’s voice, God’s will.
And now you are ready to welcome your new
rector, the Rev. VH. I know her well. She is intelligent, deeply
spiritually grounded, energetic, loving. She is delighted by this call and
looks forward to being with you very soon. This leg of your journey is nearly concluded.
But our life journey continues. As you
welcome V, remember that we are not done with the journey. We are all on
a much bigger journey, a journey toward Heaven – and to be clear, I’m not
saying we’re all on the verge of death – but all of our lives are the journey
that Jesus describes in his Michelin Guide answer. You get to eternal life by
living this life in a very particular way. Care for others as much as you care
for yourself, seek God’s will over your own, worry more about how you live your
life now than worrying about checking off boxes, and the promise of heaven will
come to you. Try, and even if you do not succeed in every moment, remember that
all things are possible for God. You saw that in this journey of transition to
your new rector. Trust that it is equally true in the journey of heavenly
promise.
God bless this parish and all who are a part of
it and all who will become a part of it in the days and years to come. God bless you in all your possibilities!
Amen.