Moving On

Moving On--April 20, 2018

"But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us.  We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh." [2 Corinthians 4:7-11]

We keep moving on.

That, I have come to believe, may well be the church's greatest living witness as generations come and go.  We keep moving on.  There is nothing superhuman about us. We are neither bulletproof nor immortal.  We are vulnerable, woundable, and capable of being wearied to the point of exhaustion. We choose deliberately (at least in our faithful moments) to open our hearts up for being broken, to weep with those who weep, to share the sufferings and hardships of others, and to pick the grubby, unseen jobs of serving. But we--the community who, as Paul puts it so beautifully, both carries around the death of Jesus and shows forth the life of Jesus in our bodies--we keep moving on.

It is the presence of the living Jesus, among us, within us, which makes that possible.  Nothing more and nothing less.

Otherwise, to be completely honest about it, we would have given up or given out with this whole business long, long ago.  I know I would have.

Quite literally--look there at Paul's list from the first century, just a few short decades after the stone was rolled away from the tomb, of what his daily life was like.  Look at the words he uses: "afflicted," "perplexed," "persecuted," "struck down."  All for naming the name of Jesus, bringing the love of Jesus, and daring to walk in the way of Jesus, wherever they went.  It was a way of life that angered the powerful, because it threatened their grip on the positions at the top of the pyramid.  It was a message that upset the Respectable Religious crowd, because it had a scandalous welcome for outcasts, sinners, and mess-ups.  It was a community that shook the comfortable, because it pulled people out of their apathy and indifference toward the sufferings of others.  And that meant that in every town, every region, and around just about every corner, there was something that knocked those followers of Jesus down to their knees.

In this age and time, where an awful lot of the Respectable Religious Crowd I know all expect it to be easy and prestigious to be a Christian, we might well have wanted to give up if we had been in Paul's shoes.  My goodness, you see all around you these days signs of what people worry is the "end" of Christianity.  Church doors closing.  Denominations fracturing.  Attendance declining.  Christians fighting with each other with an incivility as bitter and hateful as between Republicans and Democrats on cable news and social media.  There is a lot of idolatrous looking back to some remembered (however questionable the accuracy of the memory) past glory days when things were "great," and there is the equally idolatrous temptation to try and recapture that past "greatness" all over again.  Honestly, that's what any human institution does--it zeroes in on some past (generally imaginary) moment and wishes it could freeze time around that.  That's why we are living through a retread of once-popular '90s sitcoms and game-show reboots.  It's why we in the town where I live sigh when we read about the latest store in the mall to plan to close, and wistfully remember what "used to be" here.  It's why social clubs, educational institutions, political parties, and fraternal societies all ebb and flow, rise and fall, come and go... along with every government and empire in the dustbin of history, too.  

With every other organization, party, or institution we have ever seen in our lives, at some point sheer tiredness and entropy wear it out.  Even religions can run out of steam--there are no more worshippers of Zeus or Diana or Caesar Augustus.  Those institutions, too, took one too many hits, and eventually collapsed under their own weight and crumpled with their own inertia.

And yet, says Paul, here we are, we followers of Jesus.  We keep moving on.  Not because we have more innate energy or more caffeine than anybody else.  Not because Christians are smarter, stronger, or even nicer than other folks (sad but true on that last count).  Not because our faith gives us the key to perfect marriages or honor-roll kids or spares us the headaches of paying our bills and striving to keep our sanity in an insane time.  It's not anything to do with our innate talent or cleverness.  The power, as Paul is quick to point out, doesn't come from us.  We keep moving on, as we have for two thousand years in different settings, different languages, different towns, and different arrangements, because Jesus is alive in us and keeps us moving on.

But we keep moving on like a boxer does--taking the punches and absorbing the blows, not running away when it gets tough.  We keep moving on, despite the chaos and the noise in the world around us, and despite our own divisions and nastiness within, because Jesus grants us the power and the vision to keep on going... when it would be so much easier for us just to fold up our tents and go home.  We keep moving on, even though two thousand years' worth of history has revealed plenty of times we have gotten it wrong, betrayed our own message, watered down the gospel into bland niceness or tepid moralism, failed to live on the promises of Jesus, or sold out to the powers of the day.  We keep moving on, not because we've gotten it right all the time for twenty centuries and counting, but because the living Jesus who is among us and within us won't give up on us, not even when we get it terribly, terribly wrong.  Because the grace of the living Jesus keeps starting over with us, we keep moving on.

I am reminded, when I read these words of Paul's from his letter to the Christians in Corinth, of the lyrics from a song out of Sondheim's Sunday in the Park with George, appropriately titled, "Move On."  The song goes:

"Stop worrying where you're going--move on

 If you can know where you're going you've gone

 You keep moving on.

"I chose, and my world was shaken, so what?

 The choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not

 You keep moving on."

Sondheim certainly didn't intend to write that about the lumbering institution we call Church, but I don't think they're too far off the mark, at least from Paul's experience.  We keep moving on--sometimes stumbling from our own mistakes, and sometimes getting pummeled because we are faithfully standing with those who are getting rocks thrown at them already, and sometimes because the way of Jesus just unsettles things.  We keep getting knocked around, and we keep falling to our knees.  We see our structures change, our denominations grow and shrink and split and merge.  We see the culture around us change, sometimes for the better, and sometimes for the worse, sometimes both at the same time.  We see the temptation within ourselves to idolize the past because it was at least familiar.  And we see the presence of the living Jesus keep taking us by the hand and pulling us forward into God's future.  

But we keep moving on.  Not because we are sure of where the journey will take us.  Not because we are so strong or so wise on our own.  But simply because we carry around with us the life of Jesus, who puts a fire in our bones and wind in our sails.

Today... no matter what heartaches may be making you and me feel like giving up... no matter what weights may be making us feel like we cannot carry the load any longer... no matter what fears we have about the darkness of uncharted territory we are stepping into... the living Jesus, who is among and within us, is going with us so that we can keep moving on.

Lord Jesus, move us where you will. Train our feet to go where you go.  Give our tired hearts hope.  Let it be seen that the power comes from you and is not our own.  With you, we go.