Thursday, March 4, 2010

At the Dawn of a New Day


My journey today led me into a good discussion of Jurgen Multmann's "theology of hope". It didn't happen along the trail, as is often the case, but in the upper room of a brew pub where I meet with kindred spirits every other week. At our last gathering, we sipped on Reinhold Niebuhr's profound "realism" when it comes to the question of how capable human beings are of making progress in our pilgrimage here on earth. Our friend Andrew shared an article about Niebuhr that he had written for the Christian Century called "This American Mess". In it, he starts out by saying: "As the first decade of the 21st century comes to a close, the U.S. finds itself in a mess of historic proportions." And then he adds: "This mess is profoundly embarrassing because it is of our own making and therefore one that could have been avoided." I went home thinking of my friend Marty's blog, which is called "The Progress of Pilgrimage" and I remembered why I liked that name. If she had called it "The Pilgrim's Progress", followers of Niebuhr would cringe, and rightly so! There is simply no evidence that we, as human beings, are progressing when it comes to overcoming our sinful nature and putting ourselves on the right path. But that does not give justice to despair. Nor does it bind us to this present darkness. In our daily pilgrimage, we are pulled into the future by a force beyond our own. Call it what you may. For me, it is the power of God to make all things new. In God, who journeyed through death into resurrected life, our pilgrimage is one that is always "forward moving and forward looking", as Jurgen Moltmann says in the book of his that we discussed tonight called "Theology of Hope". "Hope does not take things as they happen to stand or lie," Moltmann says,"but as progressing, moving things with possibilities of change." I think this is why I have become so drawn to the metaphor and to the experience of pilgrimage in recent years. Pilgrimage is, by nature, forward looking. And it is, by the grace of God, always progressing! My favorite words of Moltmann come in the introduction to the book. "The believer is not set at the high noon of life," he says, "but at the dawn of a new day at the point where night and day, things passing and things to come, grapple with each other. Hence the believer does not simply take the day as it comes, but looks beyond the day to the things which according to the promise of the One who is the creator ex nihilo and raiser of the dead are still to come." The progress of pilgrimage, indeed!

Monday, March 1, 2010

Thank you!


Two journeys come to mind for me from this last weekend. The first was taken by me and some good friends along the banks of the Carbon River. Amidst light rain and fog, we observed two pairs of mergansers as they let the swift current carry them downstream together. But the journey that really stands out is the one taken on Sunday by a young member of my extended family as she got swept up in the waters of baptism. It lasted about five minutes, but, in hindsight, it seems like a journey that millions of others could understand quite well. Like many stories of faith, it started out with rebellion and defiance. Just standing near the water made her uncomfortable, and when it came time to encounter God face to face in the water poured over her head- she turned away and cried out in distress. Using a shell, not unlike the one that pilgrims carry with them on the "camino" to Santiago de Compostela, I scooped out some water from the font and came to her. She cringed as it touched her hair and her forehead. Then she felt my hand trace the sign of the cross, and more tears flowed! Next came the candle, and something in her began to change. She saw the warm light and she reached out for it. Her baptismal sponsor showed her how they could hold it together, and she listened to words about God's love shining like this light in her life. And finally, it was time to wrap her in a beautiful quilt made by members of the congregation. She heard how this was a sign of the love that all of us had for her, and how she could remember that love every time she felt the warmth of the quilt around her. Now, there was almost a smile. I said: Listen, because all these people also have something to say to you." The message of welcome from the whole faith community came forth, in words that have been said millions of times before. But,in this case, something happened that I have never observed in twenty five years of pastoral ministry. When we finished our welcome, she responded with words of her own for us. In a tender, little voice she said: "Thank you." I will remember that for a long time, and I will think of it as a window into the faith journey of countless others who I meet along the way.