Running in the Fog

This morning I ran in a dense fog. I'm visiting my parents in Ohio where there is a great bike trail nearby, so I was looking forward to the run. It was foggy, so I waited to start the run until after sunrise, but it really didn't make much difference. It was still really foggy.

After spending a miserable winter in Western New York where I had to go to the YMCA to run, do some alternative indoor exercise most days, or dress-up like an Eskimo to run outside. I couldn't wait to run in 50 degree weather. The fog put a damper on my enthusiasm. I have run the trail enough to know generally where I am going so I wasn't worried about losing my way. I just didn't really enjoy the dampness, humidity and reduced visibility that came with the fog.

I had to remind myself to enjoy the journey, otherwise running 8 miles is just miserable. The attitude of "let's just get this over with" doesn't work when you're out there for over an hour. That just makes me cranky, which leads to a bad day. So as I ran by the trees I tried to enjoy the beauty of the bare limbs getting ready to burst forth with buds, leaves and flowers. I listened to the songs of the birds and enjoyed the different calls, not what sounded like the angry bickering birds I have been hearing at home.

As I ran past a marsh and heard the life within I realized that this is how life is sometimes. We are running in the fog and only able to see a little ways ahead of us. There are certain situations in life that are "need to know." We can't see far down the path, but it has been laid out for us. If we are willing to look, listen, and feel the path as we go along we will be given everything we need to find the end of the path. We might as well enjoy the journey as we go along.

I feel my ministry is changing, evolving as we look for new ways to form people's faith in a time when Sunday School no longer works for the majority. I know things will be different, better than I imagined. I just can't see far enough down the road to know what my job will look like in the future. I may take a wrong turn or two along the way, as the Church is trying new ways to share God's story of love and grace.  This is uncharted territory, yet we have been here before. The wrong turns will be valuable lessons, and there will always be a way back. If I just keep running, the end of the path will be revealed. I will learn as I go and just as the end of the path is revealed, God will reveal Himself.

Eventually, about 2/3 of the way through my run the fog lifted and I was able to see to the next turn clearly. It was freeing to be able to see so much. The way was clear! I knew where I was headed and that I was going in the right direction. I was right where I was supposed to be. Eventually, the fog will lift and I will clearly see the path my ministry is to take. God will reveal the way and His glory will light the path.

The Gospels Go Silent

Mosaic from Church of the Resurrection in Jerusalem

It's Holy Saturday, but there are no Gospel readings today. There is no reference to this time between Jesus' burial in the tomb and the women finding the tomb empty in any of the Gospels. It's silent; no mention of how the disciples spent the Sabbath, no mention of their emotions. I want to know, what did they do on that horrible day? Were they together talking, weeping, hiding? Or were they scattered, alone, afraid, feeling despondent? Could they muster up the courage to join their families and celebrate the Sabbath?

Why did the writers of the Gospels leave these details out? Was it too difficult to share? Did they think it unimportant? I can understand not wanting to share that kind of grief, but how are those who weren't there to fully understand this part of discipleship?

How can I fully appreciate the pain if they don't tell me about it? I know the end of the story, but the disciples didn't know what was coming.  What was it like for them? Did they lose all faith? Their experience could be very helpful to us when we suffer. As we are going through those tough times we don't know the end of the story either. 

There was no escape from the reality of it - Jesus was dead. Not only was he dead, he was crucified! He died like a criminal - tortured, beaten, mocked and hung on a cross for all to see. The person the disciples called Rabbi (Teacher) was killed! This Rabbi that they left their families, homes and jobs for was killed for his politics and beliefs. How do you recover from something like that? Surely you don't just go back home, resume your job and act as if the last three years didn't happen!

On this day the disciples could not do what we modern-day Americans do, throw themselves into work, because it was the Sabbath. A holy day of rest; a celebration of God's creation. Can you celebrate God's creation when you feel like your world has just ended? Did the disciples take comfort in the ritual and liturgy of the day or did it pierce their souls?

Psalm 95 is part of today's lectionary and part of the Sabbath service (according to my online research). In the meditation that I read today from Nashotah House, Dennis Sylva, Ph.D. breaks the Psalm down. He states that in the midst of the Psalm, verses 3-5, "the psalmist writes that the reasons for this joy are the greatness of God and his control of the wild, uninhabitable places..." He reminds us that "in the hand(s) of Yahweh is nourishment in desolateness."

I imagine that the disciples felt desolate. I wonder, did they take comfort in Psalm 95? Did they see this as a reminder that God was with them, even in their grief? Or did they feel betrayed by God? Did they feel betrayed by their religious leaders? Were they able to speak the words of praise and hope that are part of the Sabbath? Can we speak praise and hope in the midst of our desolation?

Maybe the silence is the story. Maybe on this Holy Saturday we are to be silent too. In the silence we can grieve, we can ask God where He is. Then we can listen for His whisper, the whisper of hope and joy to come. 

Psalm 95

O come, let us sing to the Lord;
   let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation!
Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving;
   let us make a joyful noise to him with songs of praise!
For the Lord is a great God,
   and a great King above all gods.
In his hand are the depths of the earth;
   the heights of the mountains are his also.
The sea is his, for he made it,
   and the dry land, which his hands have formed.

O come, let us worship and bow down,
   let us kneel before the Lord, our Maker!
For he is our God,
   and we are the people of his pasture,
   and the sheep of his hand.

O that today you would listen to his voice!
   Do not harden your hearts, as at Meribah,
   as on the day at Massah in the wilderness,
when your ancestors tested me,
   and put me to the proof, though they had seen my work.
For forty years I loathed that generation
   and said, “They are a people whose hearts go astray,
   and they do not regard my ways.”
Therefore in my anger I swore,
   “They shall not enter my rest.”