FOLLOWING AN EVER-MOVING GOD

(Preached on Sunday, January 29, 2006)

Now the Lord said to Abram, A Go from your country and your kindred and your father= s house tot he land that I will show you.@ ... And Abram journeyed on by stages toward the Negeb. -Genesis 12:1, 9

One of the great gifts my parents gave to me was a deep and sincere love for travel. As soon as they finished having babies and the youngest was weaned and out of diapers, about the age of 3 years, we started taking trips. In fact, we started with what rests in family lore as THE TRIP: it involved seven of us, my parents and their five children from age 3 to 10 years, piling into the family car and traveling from St. Louis, Missouri, north through Chicago, Wisconsin and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, into Canada, across the Eastern Provinces to Nova Scotia, returning southward to New England, across upper New York to Niagara Falls and then back across Canada to Detroit then home to St. Louis. In two weeks time.

We never tried a trip quite that ambitious again.

But that trip, and others we took, began to open me to the world and the world to me in a deep, and meaningful way. As a result, I have traveled to Europe twice, driven all over the United States multiple times, lived in six different states, all in the past 30 years.

In fact, it is a very down year if I don= t spend at least 3 weeks away from home on the road traveling somewhere.

Travel is the heartbeat of my life.

I realized this as I have been preparing myself mentally, emotionally and spiritually for my pilgrimage to Israel. It dawned on me this past week that I have not really discussed this trip very much with most of you and I came to understand that is because, for me, in many respects this is just another of a long series of travels.

In many respects this trip is just like any other trip.

Now don= t misunderstand me, I am extremely excited about this trip. But I am always excited about any trip I take.

And while there are many things that make this trip special C going to a new continent, Asia, that I have never before visited, going to the birthplace for three of the world= s major religions, seeing the land that gave birth to my faith and my understanding of God C it is not so much the destination as it is the journey itself that is most exciting. For me it is all about the journey. That is what heightens my sense of anticipation, quickens my heart, and stirs up my emotions.

Journeys are certainly exciting for the new experiences they offer, the new sights to see, new people to meet, new smells and tastes and sounds to take in. They are exciting also because each journey holds within it the possibility of transformation, the chance, in fact, probability, that I will not return the same person I was when I left.

But they are also exciting because journeys remind me and put me more deeply in touch with, the true nature of life, especially the life of faith.

For the God of the Israelites and the God of Jesus is an ever-moving God. To be in relationship with this God is to be on a journey, a perpetual pilgrimage.

As we heard this morning, the first significant encounter Abraham had with God was God= s call to him to leave his homeland, his father= s house, and begin a journey with God. The rest of the passage describes the beginnings of Abraham= s travels C he leaves Haran and travels to Canaan, to Shechem, then Bethel, then on to the Negeb.

Abraham and his son Isaac and grandson Jacob never really settle down; the children of Israel follow Moses out of Egypt and into the wilderness for 40 years before reaching the Promised Land. Even then, once they enter the land, there is a sense in which God is not settled.

Though King David and the other Israelite Kings try to settle God by building a temple for God to inhabit and directing the people to worship God in that place, they never really gain control over God.

God allows the people to be taken into exile in Babylon where they learn that even in a strange, foreign land, God is present with them.

Jesus was forever on the move, and he sent his twelve disciples on a journey early in their training with him. He sent them out with power and authority over demons and the ability to cure diseases; he sent them to proclaim the realm of God and to heal. But he also sent them to learn how to rely on hospitality and its possibilities. It seems he wanted them to know that being dependent and vulnerable are not just cause for anxiety; these are the very hallmarks of faithful journey.

Being dependent and vulnerable is how disciples come to experience God= s sustenance through community.

So Jesus told his disciples to take nothing for the journey: no bread, no staff, no bag, no money, not even a change of clothes. He insisted they rely upon the communities that awaited them.

What Jesus was trying to teach them, what God was calling Abraham to learn, was how to live by faith.

We were created to live our lives, not independently, not self-reliantly, not separate and apart, but in trust on God.

That is one of the great gifts of travel for the person of faith.

John of the Cross wrote:

A To come to the knowledge you have not, you must

go by a way in which you know not.

Entering on the road means leaving one= s own

road, or better, moving on to the goal. And

turning from one= s own mode implies entry into

that which has no mode; that is, God.@

The wisdom of our faith warns us not to try to cling to whatever we have cherished as A God@ at a particular time, or to expect that what has proven helpful in the past will always serve us C images, concepts, routines, special places, experiences. Imagination fails. God, and the presence of Jesus as well, may seem to disappear.

Parallel to that disappearance, and unknown to us, we are coming little by little to recognize and trust that God is and has been all along at the core of our being, dwelling within us and all around us.

That is what travel helps us discover: what are our actual values? Who are we and on whom do we trust our lives? What are our vulnerabilities and where can we respond with compassion to the vulnerabilities of others?

But the greatest gift of all is to discover that wherever we go, we find support, for God is always right there with us.

In fact, we discover God is there ahead of us.

These are not easy lessons to learn.

The root word for travel is the French word A travail@ .

Travel is hard work, but then life itself, is hard work.

Devon Ward-Thommes, a free-lance writer in Ashland, Oregon, discovered these lessons on a six-week pilgrimage to northern India and Nepal with a group of 20 American feminists, most 50 and older, nearly half lesbian, studying traditional Tibetan Buddhism C historically a male-dominated spiritual path. The journey through India was extremely difficult and physically taxing.

About two weeks into the journey the participants questioned their lamas, their spiritual pilgrimage leaders, about the apparent contradiction of so much physical strain on a journey that was supposed to help eliminate suffering. They told the story of the lotus plant, which struggles to grow through layers of muck to sprout pure and unscathed, sharing its glory with the world.

Their experience was similar, trudging through filthy cities and villages to emerge into the sun of Buddhist monastery. They began to understand that their suffering was necessary for their growth.

One woman, a breast cancer survivor and grandmother, even discovered a metaphor that helped her even more than the story of the lotus.

She came to see that being on pilgrimage was like giving birth. A You go through all the panting and straining, yet when it= s done, you have a beautiful little being here with you, something invaluable and beloved.@

Our God is ever on the move, constantly evolving, growing, changing C yet, at the same time, always present, always supportive, always there for us to help us grow and evolve and become everything God created us to become.

We cannot always go on pilgrimage or travel from home, but we are, each one of us, always on a journey with God.

The labyrinth we have constructed east of the Garden Chapel is a tool we can use to help us remember and stay in touch with this truth that we are on a journey with God. I encourage you to make time to use it.

As you walk it, there is a three-fold approach to help deepen your walk.

1. Walk into the labyrinth with your focus on moving into your heart, into your spiritual depth, getting in touch with the God present in your innermost being.

2. When you arrive at the center, sit (or stand still) with this God, with your innermost spirit, and feel God= s supportive presence bearing your up.

3. Then walk out of the labyrinth carrying with you this new strength and renewed sense of God= s presence in your life guiding you into new adventures and new opportunities for sharing God= s love and compassion with the world.

Without ever leaving Miami, through the labyrinth, you can embark on your own mini-pilgrimage that puts you in touch with your journey with our ever-moving God.

God beckons us into the unknown that we might better know God as we trust our lives to God= s care.

If we will embark on that journey of trust, we will discover that we are able to walk steadily C day by day, one foot in front of the other, our steps sure, our spirits at peace, and our faces turned toward our ever-moving God.

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