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First
Reading
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Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
| Acts
7:55–60
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1 Peter
2:2–10
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John
14:1–14
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Today’s Gospel takes us back to John’s account of the last supper in Holy Week. It is hard to believe the disciples would not have been troubled and anxious. Things were obviously coming to a head and it was uncertain how restrained the authorities would continue to be, how the crowds would behave, and how Jesus would ultimately react. Philip and Thomas speak for all the disciples in pleading for reassurance against an ominous future. From time to time, they also speak for us. Often we don’t want to deal with the unknown or face change, not because we don’t want to grow, and not because we don’t recognize that what we have is far from perfect, but because we don’t want to lose treasures we consider so precious. This is at the heart of Thomas’ and Philip’s concern. They don’t want to lose Jesus’ fellowship, the companionship of the other disciples and followers, and the Gospel itself that gave their lives so much meaning and hope.
Yet rather than giving the disciples exactly what they request, Jesus says. “I am the way, the way to love and care for people, the way to live, and the way to die. Follow me on the journey, and stations for shelter and protection will appear for you.” The meaning of the Greek word for what is translated in the Gospel as dwelling places is a bit fuzzy, but there is substantial evidence to suggest the term was used to refer to a native Aramaic word describing a temporary night-stop for a traveler. Part of what Jesus said to the disciples is that within God’s embrace, and especially within the church, safe and secure way stations will be provided, not to stay in forever, but to use on the journey.
I’m reminded of huts for hikers that were built at day’s intervals along the Appalachian trail or even shorter trails like the Ling trail in Vermont. Every twenty miles or so is a shelter and a clean water supply. Usually there are some emergency supplies, too - a frying pan and a few plates, a couple of canned goods, and a supply of firewood. Courteous hikers will always leave more firewood at these shelters than they found. No two huts are exactly alike, some are former summer cabins with large cast iron kitchen stoves, others are rough lean twos, none are made for extended occupancy, but they do keep one safe from the elements, and one may fall asleep and awake refreshed and able to begin the next day’s journey. In one sense these huts protect what is so precious, namely the human life and the health of hikers to be able to continue on, despite sudden storms and the strangeness of the terrain.
Most of us have heard the tale about a seeker of wisdom who traveled thousands of miles to find a renowned sage who lived in a cave on a remote mountaintop. After many trials, the seeker reached the sage, and asked, “How does one survive evil and adversity, how does one deal with success and victory, and what lesson is useful to remember in good times and in bad?” “Ah,” said the sage “all you need to remember is four words: This too, will pass.”
Part of the job of way stations is to remind us of that.”This too, will pass.” The controversies that seem to threaten to destroy the witness of the church of God, dilemmas we don’t understand how we will ever solve--divisions and heresies, they too will pass.
Note that even when John is quite polemical against opponents we have little knowledge of, John never claims that non-Christians will be left out of God’s love. Rather that we are to trust in God to make and disclose the way, not only for us, but everyone else, too. It’s not our way, its God’s way, and God’s way is always broader, deeper, more inclusive and wiser than our way. The way to God is in God’s hands, not according to our triptick.1
We can’t stop here in our time any more than the disciples could hide behind closed doors in the upper room for very long. Jesus knew the disciples would overcome fear, and venture out on the Emmaus road, as well as go fishing on the Sea of Galilee again. Jesus also knew that the high of Pentecost, like the experience on the Mount of Transfiguration would also pass. Way stations are places to rest, to take off our heavy packs that burden us, to provide a shelter of refreshment, and then bid us along the way of discipleship, assuring us there will be more stations up ahead. Jesus beckons us on the way. The way he has lived, the way he loved, the way he provides for us.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
1 cf. the meditation for this Sunday in Forward Day by Day.
