Grace in Exodus

So, this one is going to be a little different…oh what am I saying, they all have been a little different. I hope this makes sense to you. It was meaningful to me.

Look at this word— έξοδος––it is written in Greek. I realize that some of you may be able to read it but others will have no idea what the squiggly lines mean, hang in there with me. It says—exodus. When our friend, Alex picked us up at the airport we were headed down the highway and I saw a sign that said—έξοδος. And right underneath it was the word exit. I was amazed that my Greek came back to me and I could read the word exodus in Greek (before I saw the word exit) and knew that it meant to exit.

We drive many miles in our lives and we see the signs along the road–– “Little Rock 81 miles” “Napoli 124 km” “Glasgow 24 km” “Exit”. “έξοδος”. And we follow the signs.

For most of us “Exodus” is the second book of the Bible. For others we think about the significance of people moving. Many of us think of the Israelites departure from Egypt.

I looked up “έξοδος” and again was reminded of its origin as a word—ex—“out” and hodos—“way”—“έξοδος” (exodus) is a way out. I read the road sign, I knew that it meant exit, but seeing it in the Greek and the significance for people through the centuries changed my perspective on the road that day.

We have many signs that call for us to enter and to exit not only on the road but in our lives. Places where we travel. Places where God leads us.

I hear from people a great deal that they don’t feel God’s presence in their life or that they don’t feel that God is leading them except at certain times such as when they see a beautiful sunset, or they sit quietly on the beach, or when they are with friends or when they are playing music, or in the quiet of the night or when they see the moon and the stars in the sky…

Perhaps we need to stop looking so hard for God and see that God is present; God is leading us. God is present in all of those things and even more so God is present every time we take an έξοδος off the highway or move from one village to another; God is present when we climb the wrong hill looking for the hill where Paul preached to the Athenians; God is present when we set up an idol to an unknown god; God is present when we say good bye to friends and God is present when we are called from one vocation to another.

Perhaps we all look too hard for God and God is present even in all the έξοδοι (exits) and the entrances of our lives.

The Challenges of Grace

Lindsay and I climbed Mars Hill in Athens, Greece today. It is the place where Paul preached to the Athenians in the Aeropagus (it's in Acts 17). It was so hot! We were told today was going to be one of the hottest days. I really wanted to go to Mars Hill. When Lindsay took the Footsteps of Faith trip with the Presbytery of Arkansas trip three years ago she talked about how moving it was to be on top of Mars Hills and how special and spiritual it was. So we trudged through Athens, despite the fact that our hosts indicated that only tourists would go out in this heat after noontime.

We passed by the Parthenon museum on our left and the Parthenon standing high on a hill to our right. We looked at the signs and tried to find out where we were going. We got to the top of the hill that we thought was Mars Hill and a cool breeze started to blow. You could see all of Athens, the Acropolis; it was a spectacular sight. My eyes filled with tears.

Then Lindsay said it was not the right place. But nonetheless, the wind was blowing. I was so moved. So we sat and we immersed ourselves in the moment. The wind just kept blowing.

The words of the song “There is a Balm in Gilead” came to mind,

"If you cannot preach like Peter,

if cannot pray like Paul,

just tell the love of Jesus,

and say he died for all."

This is how I feel. These are the words I often pray as I step into the pulpit.

And then as the wind kept blowing, I started singing the song "Spirit"

Spirit, spirit of gentleness,

blow through the wilderness calling and free.

Spirit, spirit of restlessness

stir me from placidness wind, wind on the sea.

I told Lindsay how the word for Spirit, wind, and breath were all essentially the same word in Greek and Hebrew. We continued to absorb the moment, we took some pictures (with her camera because surprisingly I left my camera at house). Then we climbed down that hill and went out into the street and into the place where we thought we could find Mars Hill.

We didn't take the path but instead we decided to climb over the rocks. For whatever reason we were led to the other hill first and saw amazing sights and felt the cool, refreshing breeze and were essentially alone—alone and yet not alone.

And then we were led to climb the tougher path, we went on the "road less traveled" and we found ourselves in the place where Paul preached. We sat for a moment there too. We felt the wind still blowing and God's Spirit still calling, still challenging, still pushing us on.

There are times when I have felt God’s presence deeply, but today when we climbed the wrong hill and then we finally made our way to Mars Hills I felt the fresh breath of God. It moved me to tears. I felt the love of God, I felt the peace of God, and I felt the difficult challenges of God not just for me but for communities of faith, for those who have lost their way, and for our world—it gave me comfort and strength.

Tangents of Grace

I ended the last blog with more than a dangling participle. My writer friends (including my husband) will probably say I have gone off on a tangent. But really, life in community is all about the struggles of dealing with these sorts of things isn’t it––Tangents, forgiveness, looking at things from new angles?

When I left for Scotland and then Europe, I was headed off on an adventure. I was seeking “visions for the future” and I found myself much like the White Rabbit in Alice’s Adventures––LATE and worse because my “stuff” was somewhere else.

Our friends, Mary and Henry Doig from East Kilbride, Scotland were just a phone call away and came to Glasgow to pick me up and take me to Dunblane. It wasn’t an easy trip for them but they did it, happily and we had a nice visit because of this “misadventure” or complication. And like I said at the end of the last blog entry I had to look at things differently. What could have been terrible and started my trip as awful, was instead an opportunity to trip into grace.

I connected with friends from long ago; I was graciously welcomed by new friends that I met; I knew that a community of faith back home was praying for and with me; my friends and family elsewhere were praying for me and checking on me.

It was the community working in a different way and in a variety of ways. I was very blessed at every turn, every place I went with this kind of community from the past, present, as well as new communities forming—that displayed an “ethic” of taking care of the other, showing compassion and kindness, challenging and listening.

I was taken back to that first day of the summer school when Kevin Franz spoke to us about hospitality and his vision for the future when he said, “one of the tests of a community is how welcoming it is to the ‘other’”. And he went on to say, “a vision of the future is perhaps for communities to be a place of safety and security where we can learn and listen to those who seem to be the weakest and then to hear what they alone can tell us.” There are times when we are weak in a community and there are times when we are strong in a community. We must learn to listen and be present for and with one another.

It reminded me of Paul’s relationships to and with the churches he helped to form and with which he had relationships. There was always supposed to be give and take, always to be a praying with and for one another, always a mutual concern for the well-being of one another from the greatest to the least, and a responsibility to and for one another.

I think that is the beginning of community. Just the beginning…For Paul also talks about love…

Strangers becoming community

I left for Scotland and Europe over two weeks ago to attend a theological summer school. The school was held at the Scottish Churches House, an ecumenical community in Dunblane, Scotland. The theme of the summer school was “Visions for the Future”. Much of what I feel I learned was another lesson about community.

The group I lived and worked and studied with for two weeks was from fourteen different countries, as many varied denominations, and an age span from 19 to 69 (+?). There were 25 of us altogether with others joining in from time to time––strangers living in community.

I arrived late. My flight from Little Rock was delayed, which meant that I missed my connection in Memphis. When I did arrive in Scotland my suitcase didn’t. But I was greeted with concern, compassion, and warm hospitality. People began to take notice of me. They were expecting me. They asked if they could loan me clothes, toiletries, anything that I might need, to make me comfortable until my own things arrived. Each person was treated with the same care and the same concern.

I know that my own community of faith is asked might say that my favorite passage of scripture is Jesus’ command to his disciples to love one another. It is one of my favorites. Jesus declares that this is how the world will know who Jesus is if his disciples love one another.

So, as I approached this “strange” international community, preparing to talk about “visions for the future” I was challenged and at a disadvantaged. I was late (something I hate to be though I know that I am all too often) and I was stripped bare because I didn’t have any of my “things”

It was an interesting position to be in and one that helped me look at things differently, to begin to turn things around. That’s what Jesus told those who asked him about forgiveness. Jesus challenges us to give more than expected and do things differently than we want to do them. Turn things around. That’s not human nature. But it is God’s nature. God is always challenging us to look at things differently, to view things from a different angle, to get a different vision of God’s future.

And it is in community…

Thankful

Dear Friends,

I want to write a note of thanks. My two weeks in Scotland was amazing. I know that I need to write and share information with you about what I have learned and I will do that. I was so busy during that two weeks learning and sharing with others that I didn't get posted what I wanted to get posted. And the internet was not as reliable as what I am used to. (I think God may have been teaching me a little bit of patience, perhaps God will keep working on that one).

I want to thank my family. They were very generous in allowing me the time away. The Sunday before I left I taught a Sunday school class on a character in the Bible and I chose Barnabas. He is called the Son of encouragement. I believe that my husband has encouraged me as have my children, my parents, and my in-laws to go after my dreams, to seek God's call in my life, to push the boundaries. Thank you all for encouraging me always and for the generosity in letting me go.

I want to thank Westover Hills Presbyterian Church. You too were very generous and gracious in allowing me my study leave. Presbyterians have always claimed to value an educated clergy. You walked with me the journey of my doctoral studies. My education allowance has always been a generous gift. I am grateful for this time of renewal and growth.

There were others without who's help I would not have been able to make this trip. Thank you. And I want to thank the Rubios, our friends Lello and Marilia and Alex and his family for hosting us.

I met 25 new friends from 14 different countries, a myriad of different denominations, a wide range of ages. We came together for two weeks, we worshiped, ate, played, worked, and talked together about visions for the future. And we decided that there is hope and with God all things are possible.

Traveling Faith’s Journey

On Sunday night we sang a hymn at the evening’s opening which helped to supply the title for the blog I wrote for this day. I’m several days behind posting which frustrates me and I never know whether to catch up or to just keep moving on. So, I think I will just keep moving on and if there are stories and anecdotes that fit in then I will add them in at appropriate times. Sunday was a busy day and it proved to be what each day was going to be like. We had guests coming and going from the house most of the day; we got a tour of where we are staying and the surrounding area, it was quite nice. Then a large company of guest came in for a wonderful organ concert in Dunblane Cathedral, followed by evening service, dinner and coffee with all of our guests. This is where I got to meet Ian Fraser (a former warden of Scottish Churches House). I have read books through the years by Ian Fraser and now I finally got to meet him. It was delightful.

Kevin Franz the chaplain at the Gartnaval Royal Hospital in Glasgow gave a lecture entitled “A new vessel coming to land”. He talked about how one of the tests of a community is how welcoming it is to the “other”. And that “a vision of the future is perhaps for communities to be a place of safety and security where we can learn and listen to those who seem to be the weakest and then to hear what they alone can tell us.” It reminded me of what Jesus said, “When you do it to the least of these you do it to me.” It also reminded me of how the prophets spoke of justice and mercy for the least in our society. I wonder what would happen if our leaders began looking at the needs of those among us who have no voice?

Listen to the words from Edwin Muir’s Autobiography (paraphrased somewhat), “We receive more than we can ever give…we receive it from the past, from which we draw with every breath, from the Source of mystery itself by the means which religious people call grace.”

The song that I talked about at the beginning is one written by John Bell and Graham Maule and it is entitled Jesus Christ is waiting. Each verse is provocative and challenging “Jesus Christ is waiting, waiting in the streets; Jesus Christ is angry, raging in the streets, where injustice spirals; Jesus Christ is healing, Listen, Lord Jesus, I have pity too; let my care be active, healing, just like you; Jesus Christ is dancing…where each sign of hatred, he, with love defeats, let me dance with you. And finally the last verse:

Jesus Christ is calling,

calling in the streets,

‘Who will join my journey?

I will guide their feet.’

Listen, Lord Jesus,

let my fears be few;

walk one step before me,

I will follow you.

I am constantly confronted with the realization that I receive more than I can ever give! I awake realizing that God is calling, despite my fears and insecurities and that I am called to join God’s journey (even though I often want God to follow me); however, I am called to follow Christ and let the Spirit guide me.

God’s blessings to each one of you, who have written me, called me, sent me a message, and prayed for me. I am praying for you as well.