[Start w/ my trip to Houston, my video project and finally, Dad’s
line: "we are always in procession"]
Once we get established and rooted we want to protect what
we have. It’s much harder to be open and
generous because we’ve built it, we “own” it, we’ve earned it, we’ve claimed it
for ourselves, the land, the space, the people, and we’ve put all this money
into it all these years and so the attitude becomes one that is the opposite of
what’s embodied by the image of “open hands” and always being on the move,
“always being in procession.”
But look at the image on the cover of our bulletin: Open hands and moving with the flock.
The Good Shepherd of the valley is a nomad, with no place to
lay his head. And we are called to
follow him, for we are his flock. Let’s
just be honest about shepherds. They
were not rooted people. The 23rd
Psalm is a song about journey, walking through valleys and green pastures,
sitting along water, the scenery is always changing (every noticed that?). Shepherds move around and their lives, both out
in nature and in society—being the lowest on the socio-economic ladder—were always
at risk. Faithfulness, trusting God,
worshiping together is risky.
It’s all striking me today, because – I don’t know about you
but – my natural impulse is to want to settle, to have things secure and in
place, to tie up the loose ends and to carve out a nice, little niche, to put my
money and my time and my hobbies and my family and my friends and my church, to
pack it all in there.
And then I want to protect all those good things and myself
with them. I don’t know about you but
often, especially when times are tough, I’m seeking a cave.
But the shepherd and the sheep are always in procession. That’s the story of the Bible to isn’t
it? Think of all the processions in the
Bible: Adam and Eve processing out of
the Garden of Eden into the frightening world; Abraham and Sarah processing
across the desert; Jacob and his brothers and all they’re families processing
to Egypt; and of course the 40-year procession with Moses and Miriam and Aaron back
to the Promised Land. But the procession
is never finished, just when the people get settled and the things start
seeming in place, the palace is built in Jerusalem, the king is powerful and
smart, the money is secure, the army is rockin’…
Then comes invasion and strife, and before you know it the
people are back out in a procession to Babylon in exile; many years later they process home again; but
then Rome; and then Jesus, procession back and forth from Galilee to Jerusalem,
to Calvary, and then back to Galilee; then the great commission and Pentecost,
the great sending out, then Paul and Lydia, and the mission is expanded. The journeys continue through the ages...moving,
moving over seas and mountains, across deserts and through forests. Dad was right, God’s people are always in
procession. And that sounds pretty
scary: to never be finally be rooted and
settled in this life.
But this is what “flock life” is. In baptism we become inducted by God’s grace, actually, into this “flock
life”. We are sheep in in Christ’s fold,
and so we are always in procession.
Always moving from one pasture to another. From one adventure to another (it’s not
always terrifying, many times it’s fun), from one transition to another, always
moving, always changing.
And like sheep we don’t always want to get up and move. “I’m fine right here, Jesus, thank you very
much!”
But today and forevermore Christ gently nudges us with his
staff (the symbol of our congregation—the staff) and moves us along. C’mon Lois, c’mon Dusty…c’mon Dan. “But I don’t want to!”
“I know,” Jesus says, “and I love you still, but we need to
get going. And you’re part of this flock.”
[pause]
And the shepherd’s staff doesn’t just push us forward in the procession, it also pulls
us in from the side when we go
astray, as sheep do. The Good Shepherd
of the valley is such a rich image.
I hope everyone here, from some point in their life or
another, has a “getting-hooked-back-into-the-fold” story. Where you strayed from this risky procession
of the faithful and decided to settle down and away from the flock, as we all
can, but someone hooked you and pulled you back into the procession. Maybe it was just a gentle invitation back,
or maybe it was more dramatic, and you were in big trouble, like a lamb caught
in a ravine or trapped on a cliff. But
somehow God found you, through friends or family or strangers, and here you are
today, back in the procession.
My family and I were at the MS walk yesterday, because one
of our dear friends, Andrea, 32 years old, has been diagnosed with Multiple
Sclerosis. And we, along with friends
and strangers, gathered and walked with her, and for her and for all those
diagnosed with this terrible disease.
And our kids walked too, and in such a large crowd and with a handful of
friends our kids would move around and walk with different people and
dogs. Lots of dogs. And our group, together with Heather and I,
would keep hooking them back in to the fold as they would wander or stray or stop
or get into trouble. The community would
bring them back in, lovingly and firmly.
And we would keep moving. It was
a wonderful way to live into this text for today. I could have been rooted at home in my cave.
We are always in procession.
With Christ as our Good Shepherd, sometimes out front, sometimes along
side, sometimes nudging from behind.
So where is Christ leading us as a congregation? Where is Christ leading Shepherd of the
Valley Lutheran Church of La Mesa? How
are we being called to lay down our lives, to risk it all for the sake of the
Gospel? And how is God leading you?
The walk of the faithful is a constant procession, but we do
not walk alone, we walk together, for Christ processes with us, this day and
always, always. AMEN.
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