Well, it finally feels like summer has settled in here
in Suffolk. Hot weather, combined with
school being out, gets one to thinking about… a vacation! And vacationing means hitting the road, which
makes today’s Gospel reading perfectly timed.
It launches us into a new section of Luke’s account of Jesus’ life and
ministry. Biblical scholars refer to
chapters 9-19 as the “Travel Narrative” of the book. Fully one third of what Luke writes about
Jesus covers the time from when he sets out for Jerusalem to the day of Palm
Sunday when he enters the holy city riding a donkey.
Luke describes the beginning of this journey
in a telling way: “When the days drew near for Jesus
to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” The
days drew near refers to Luke’s sense that Jesus had to go to Jerusalem because it was his destiny, his mission, his
time. Perhaps to be taken up refers in part to the elevation change of going to
Jerusalem, which is located on one of the highest points in Israel. It certainly refers to being lifted up on a
cross to be crucified. It may also refer
to his eventual Ascension into glory at the right hand of the Father, an event
Luke describes in the Book of Acts (the second part his writing project).
The most telling part of the
verse is Jesus set his face to go to
Jerusalem. It harkens back to a passage
from the Old Testament prophet Isaiah:
I offered my back to those who
beat me,
my cheeks to those who pulled out
my beard;
I did not hide my face
from mocking and spitting.
Because the Sovereign
Lord helps me,
I will not be disgraced.
Therefore I have set my face like flint,
and I know I will not be
put to shame. (50:6-7)
Luke gives us an image of
Jesus setting out toward Jerusalem with a kind of grim determination – a
resolve which will not yield to any distraction. Like a father driving the family car who
refuses to stop for a bathroom break, at the outset Jesus approaches his
journey more like a march than a pilgrimage.
He allows no time to say goodbye to family, no time to attend to burial
arrangements, and no time to call down wrath on those who are rude to him. To one person who wants to join him Jesus
warns there will be no comfy provisions and no cushy accommodations (think again
of the parent who warns, “We are not going to stop for anything until we get to
where we are going!”). One scholar notes
to set your face life flint “implies
that you’re expecting some opposition” and it means you “regard these
difficulties as worthwhile when you consider what they will lead you to.”
The American mountaineer
Jon Krakauer writes this about scaling the world’s highest peak:
Let’s
not mince words: Everest doesn’t attract a whole lot of well-balanced folks. The self-selection process tends to weed out
the cautious and the sensible in favor of those who are single-minded and
incredibly driven.
Without a maniacal focus reaching the summit would not
be possible. Some journeys simply
require a person to forsake all else in order to reach the desired goal.
All of this got me to thinking about so many people on
our parish prayer list who are mounting an assault on one type of challenging
crisis or another. What they face makes
climbing a mountain seem as easy as strolling down a shaded country lane. Like Jesus setting out for Jerusalem, the
path these folk are on is not one they choose.
It is put on them and if they are going to get to a place of health
again they will have to set their faces like flint for the journey.
Given how Jesus begins his travels anything transpiring
along the way is both unexpected and notable.
During the time he has set his face like flint to go to Jerusalem, many
things in fact do happen. Jesus…
…trains
others how to minister as he does.
…instructs
those who ask questions about such things as moral responsibility, wealth,
relationships, humility, forgiveness, care for the poor, perseverance,
self-righteousness, and eternal life.
…gathers
in the homes of friends.
…teaches
his followers how to pray.
…heals
people suffering from chronic, debilitating, and often stigmatizing illnesses.
…is
joined by scores of new followers who accompany him on the way.
…and
responds to challenges posed by religious authorities.
In short, Jesus learns how to transform his march into
a pilgrimage. In a march, all that
matters is to get to where you are going as soon as possible. A pilgrimage, on the other hand, is a journey
to a holy destination, but it is what happens along the way that changes
you.
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote:
Faith
is not the clinging to a shrine but an endless pilgrimage of the heart. Audacious longing, burning songs, daring
thoughts, an impulse overwhelming the heart, usurping the mind –
these
are all a drive towards serving the God who rings our hearts like a bell. It is as if God was waiting to enter our
empty, perishing lives.
This is a discovery we find not only during our difficult
trials. It is a something we can
experience every day if we approach all of life as if it is filled with holy
possibilities.
Perhaps the answer lies in learning how to saunter. Now, in our day we think of sauntering as a
leisurely, aimless stroll, but this is not accurate to its origins. In the Middles Ages, when people on
pilgrimage to Jerusalem passed through a village on the way and were asked
where they were going, they answered “a la sainte terre”, “to the Holy Land.” Thus
they became known as sainte-terre-ers
or saunterers.
Jesus may have set out for Jerusalem with his face
set. He was determined, yes, but also
grim and maniacal. But along the way –
as we will see in our readings throughout this season of Pentecost – he learned
to saunter. He opened himself to those
around him as well as to every possibility and opportunity that presented
itself. Jesus learned to find holiness
on the way to the Holy City.
This is my prayer for you: that you learn to saunter
even and especially when your face is set to that place you must go; even and
especially when you have nowhere you have to go, or if you have nowhere at all to
go. May you always be open to the holy
moment in which you live and move and have your being.
