Please sing with me by echoing back what I sing to you:
We’re going on a journey. (Echo)
Oh, won’t you come and go with me? (Echo)
Through mountains and through valleys, (Echo)
And God is at the beginning, and at the end. (Echo)
Each of us is on a journey. A movement from one place to another place. As we move, we learn things, we experience things, we meet people, we read books, we sing songs. We suffer losses. All of these learnings make us who we are.
A faith journey is the same as any other kind of journey, but with the understanding that God is intricately involved with what is happening to us. One might even say, there is no part of our journey where God is not present and involved.
Furthermore, no two faith journeys are the same. How God works with and in me is not the same as how God works with and in you. I see this as a good thing, although I know that certain churches place more emphasis on having folks describe their faith journeys in ways that are similar to one another.
And there are similarities, to be sure. There are moments when we are more sure of where we are on our faith journey, and times when we are lost. Life happens. Maybe we are dealing with depression, health issues, or the death of a loved one. These happen to us all, and our faith tells us that God does not abandon us at those junctures, but keeps company with our pain.
The song we sang uses the phrase, “through mountains and through valleys.” This is metaphorical language for the ups and downs of life. I went to a spiritual retreat one time where we were asked to draw a time line of our life. Birth is on the left, the journey moves to the right. Then, we were asked to make another line that followed the journey, but which was above the time line when things were good, and below the time line when things were bad. And to identify those good and bad things.
Looking back, I remember how I identified good and bad things. But I see it differently today. There were mountains and valleys. Mountains were times of exhilaration and awe. Valleys were times of fear and loss. Yet, in retrospect, in reflection, what were valleys, in the words of Isaiah, were lifted up, by God’s grace. And mountains took on a leveling, as well.
I am reminded of the gospel story where Jesus goes with three of his disciples up the Mount of Transfiguration. That was a real high for Peter, James and John. They were so excited about it that they wanted to settle down right there, but Jesus gave them a dose of reality, a serving of humility, and said that their journey was not over, and they needed to go down from the mountain, back into the city, forward on their faith journey. Life is like that and a faithful life is very like that. We cannot stay on the mountain top, nor do we need to stay in the darkest valley.
My identification of things as good and bad has been realigned through my walk with God. Yes, good and bad things happen, but God will work with anything for God’s purposes. And, yes, that is faith language.
A faith journey is a life long process, but it has other time frames, as well. Each day is a journey. Alcoholics Anonymous has a core recovery slogan that speaks to this. One day at a time. Each day is a journey to traverse. It is good to be where we are now and not, as Jesus taught, be anxious for tomorrow.
I chose two psalms and a poem for today’s sermon. The two psalms have faith journey language which is meaningful to me. From Psalm 23, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” And from Psalm 121, “God will keep you from all evil. God will keep your life. God will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.”
A journey of faith is rooted in a relationship with God, a trusting relationship which allows doubt and questioning, yet, at the end of the day, relies on God for meaning and direction forward on the journey.
I included the poem by Robert Frost because it speaks to the ambiguity of the journey. There will be times in our lives when we do not know what is going on, when we are floundering about which road to take, when we are doubting our decisions. Yet, in faith language, God has given us the capacity, the agency, the will, the courage, the opportunity to choose a road upon which to walk. And choose we must. We cannot travel down every road. At the end of the day, or, whatever time of day it is, we are where we are and the only way on is forward.
Jesus walked in God’s path. He invited others, all others, to walk it with him. He said, follow me. He pointed the way to abundant life. He did not promise an easy path, but he did promise fullness of life and he did promise his own Spirit to be a companion on the journey.
And so we have the Church, this raggedy band of faith journey folk, of which we here are a part. We are on this journey together, at different places on the path, some of us on the mountain top, others in the darkest valley, others discerning which path to take in a yellow wood. But we are in this together.
And we have a responsibility to one another on this journey. We need to pay attention, not only to how God is calling and guiding us, but how God is calling, guiding, and present with our neighbor. Our neighbor’s faith journey will be different than our own, yet just as precious, just as valuable.
We are the church. We are given what we need for the journey of faith. We have wonderful words of life in our scriptures, we have the memory of those saints who have gone before us and whose lives guide our choices for today, we have our own experiences of mountain tops and dark valleys to humble us and to inspire us, and, perhaps best of all, we have each other, which may be what Jesus meant when he said, I will be with always, even to the end of the age.
Sing with me, one more time:
We’re going on a journey. (Echo)
Oh, won’t you come and go with me? (Echo)
Through mountains and through valleys, (Echo)
And God is at the beginning, and at the end. (Echo)
Amen