Going Where We Have Not Yet Been

Lent 2A; Gen. 12:1-4a; Psalm 121; John 3:1-17 St. Paul’s, Smithfield 3/12/2017

Jim Melnyk: “Going Where We Have Not Yet Been”

Would you be willing to change your life based on three brief sentences you believe you are hearing from God?  Three sentences?  I’m willing to bet there would have to be some pretty explicit guidance going on for most of us to sign on the dotted line. 

Before God calls, Abram and Sarai seem to be doing pretty well as semi-nomads living near Haran, smack in the middle of the Fertile Crescent.  And while it’s true they have no children of their own, they are part of an extended family and they even have their own herd of cattle – meaning they have some wealth.  They're doing okay for themselves.  At seventy-five years of age Abram is probably thinking it’s time to put his feet up and let the younger relatives take on the hard work.  But all that’s about to change – after three brief sentences Abram trusts are coming from God. Suddenly Abram and Sarai are all in on a crazy-sounding venture– and the way will get a bit rocky from time-to-time from that point forward.

As Abram’s and Sarai’s lives are about to change, it is interesting to note that one meaning for the name of the city “Haran” is “crossroads” (The Torah: A Modern Commentary, W. Gunther Plaut, Union for Reformed Judaism, p. 89).  God comes to Abram and Sarai at a crossroads in their lives.  They have a choice.  They can stay in Haran with Abram’s family – a family that seems to be well established – or they can pack up everything they own, bring along a few close family members, their servants and their herds, and head off into the sunset for a land that God will show them.  Can’t you just hear Abram and Sarai wrestling with the challenge?  Should we stay or should we go?

They step out with only a nudging sense that God is leading them somewhere new – to a land that God will show them – no map, no compass, no GPS – just a promise that somehow they’ll know it when they get there, and that in the end, God will bless them in more ways than they can ever imagine.  It’s actually a good thing they don’t have any kids.  How do you answer “Are we there yet?” for the thousandth time when you don’t even know where you’re going to begin with?

Over a thousand years later Nicodemus comes to his own crossroad.  Intrigued by this guy Jesus, Nicodemus slips through the dark, quiet, night in an attempt to assuage his curiosity.  Perhaps he goes during the night because that’s the only time he is sure to get an audience – there are so many people around Jesus every day.  More likely he goes at night because it’s safer that way.  Nicodemus has some standing among the leaders of Israel, and Jesus already seems to be making waves – having gone a bit ballistic in the temple not long before – turning over tables and chasing merchants from their stalls.  What will happen if any of my colleagues see me with that rabbi?  Is this just a dangerous bout of curiosity, or am I being led by God to seek out this Jesus? Should I stay or should I go?  One brief exchange later and Nicodemus goes all in.  He becomes a follower of Jesus who will later risk his own life to help bury his friend and teacher.

Theologian Walter Brueggemann tells us, “Both the Abraham text and the Nicodemus text entail going where we have not yet been ... into God’s new life. For that reason Psalm 121 is a fitting companion piece. That psalm is about a journey, being safe on the way even if the route is dangerous. Thus we can imagine…,[first of all,] Abraham being one for whom God will “neither slumber nor sleep” (Psalm 121:4), and [then we find] Nicodemus being invited to be kept by God in his “going out and [his] coming in” [as he comes to know Jesus] (verse 8). The journey is [one into] God’s newness again…” (Walter Brueggemann, Sojourners Online: Preaching the Word, 3/12/2017).

And while Nicodemus certainly knows the promises found in Psalm 121 – he most likely grew up hearing them time and again – Abram and Sarai do not.  They come on the scene centuries before those wonderful promises are first uttered and then penned.  Either way, it is always risky business when God leads us to places where we have not yet been.  And choosing to take that first step can be paralyzing for all too many of us.

A famous philosopher named Yogi Berra once said, “When you get to the fork in the road, take it.”  Sometimes the only thing we can do when we reach a crossroad is pick a direction and start out – because if we just stay where we are – paralyzed with indecision – we certainly won’t get anywhere new – nor will we get anywhere old, for that matter.  We’ll just stay stuck.

God is constantly inviting us into the unknown – and perhaps even at times the unfathomable.  God invites us to go to places where we have not yet been – and that can be tough on those of us who belong to a culture which immortalizes the words, “But we’ve never done it that way before.”

As most of you know, Presiding Bishop Michael Curry has coined the phrase, “We are the Episcopal Branch of the Jesus Movement.”  We even have banners out on our fence voicing that claim.  Using our brother Michael’s analogy, being a part of the Jesus Movement shapes God’s call to each of us – a call which can very well lead us to those places where we have not yet been. 

When asked to paint a picture of what the Jesus Movement looks like, Michael pointed to a moment in our Sunday liturgy that we all just experienced.  When the Gospel is about to be read, we all stand up.  Something important is about to happen and so we stand in anticipation.  We sing hymns of praise as we process – getting ready to tell the story – getting ready to hear the teachings of Jesus.  Everyone gathers turns and reorients themselves toward the reading of the Gospel.  At that moment of reorientation the Church becomes the Jesus Movement: a way of love that seeks the good and the well-being of the other – a way of love that is not self-centered, but other-directed – a way of love that is meant to set all people free.  The Jesus Movement, I contend, is an incarnation of the dream of God made alive in the world, and its purpose is to set us free and change the world.

Perhaps a good Lenten discipline might be to ask “Where can I go from here?”  What are the places where we have not yet been that could bring us closer to one another and closer to God?  Perhaps God is asking each of us, “Where would you like me to go with you?”  Part of our Lenten discipline might be just sitting with those questions for a bit – turning them over in our minds and within our hearts – seeking God’s nudging call.  Where might we go and what might we do if we honest-to-goodness believe God is with us, and will be with us still all along our life’s journey?

It could be something as simple-sounding, but deeply moving, as sitting at the bedside of a sick friend; or taking the time to listen to a grandchild talk about his fears, or her hopes.  It could be as challenging – and yet as rewarding – as volunteering at an elementary school; helping first generation American children become proficient readers.  Admittedly, those are pathways to new places with easily discernible first steps. 

The call of God to places we have not yet been can also be as life-changing as heeding the call of Isaiah which we heard proclaimed in this space on Ash Wednesday: finding a way to help loose the bonds of injustice, ways to share our bread with the hungry, and a willingness to let the oppressed go free.  Admittedly, those things can sound a bit overwhelming.  But if the people of God aren’t willing to seek out ways of speaking for and standing up with those who are sick, friendless, left out, or hungry, who will?

As much as the world might scoff at such a notion, it’s clear throughout Scripture that God loves us and promises to be with us.  It’s clear that God has something special in mind for each of us – something which we may or may not have yet discovered – however exciting, and perhaps however anxiety-provoking at times, that prospect may be!  What will it take for us to go all in for God?  A few sentences?  A brief exchange? A gentle nudge, or a commanding “Go!”?  God in Christ leading us to places we’ve not yet been.  Whatever the catalyst, when we open ourselves to the power of the Jesus Movement in all its wonder, we will find a God who is ready to leap from the pages of history and the pages of Scripture, and take us by the hand.