Covering
some ground.
I
suspect that for a lot us, that sums up how many of us feel, one way or the
other, about a change in the calendar. Some of look back on 2015 and think: I
covered some ground that year. Others may look into the future, into the new
year that is already upon us and we’ve resolved to cover some ground. There’s
something very satisfying about covering ground, going the distance, “bringing
things home.”
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| Jewish captives returning from exile |
God
who likes to cover some ground. That’s one of the things we learn over and over
about God through God’s history with the people of ancient Israel. God likes to
cover ground, go the distance. The prophet Jeremiah, who is normally a doom and
gloom kind of guy, explains this in one of his prophecies to God’s people. He
says that their time exile would eventually end, that the great distance they
feel from God would one day be over. God would accomplish this by helping them
cover some ground…and I mean literal ground. After years of being dispersed on
account of their faithlessness to what felt like the far reaches of creation God
was going to bring them back to the place they belonged. This was the hope of a
shattered and scattered Israel: that no matter where they had been flung to by
the invading armies, no matter how distant God had let them get through their
punishment of exile, God would, in fact, remember who and whose they were and
gather them back together.
And
so the word goes out, as Jeremiah says, from coast to coast. It covers ground! The
word is declared in distant islands, to the edges of the known world. From the
farthest parts of the earth God would gather them, and not just the young and
healthy, either. The most vulnerable among them—the lame and the blind, the
pregnant and those even in labor—would all make this journey, walking together.
And upon their return there would be great rejoicing. The young women will
dance and the old men and young will throw huge parties. The land will be like
a watered garden. Grain, oil and wine
everywhere. The future was going to be great. It would be a time of grace upon
grace…all because God likes to cover some ground.
This
also is the God we come to see in Jesus, the Word made flesh, as John’s gospel
calls him. God wants his word to go to the distant islands and coastlands, except
this time it will not just be announced there and declared there to bring
people back to God. This time the Word itself will go there. This time the Word
will become human and, out of God’s great love for us, cover some serious
ground. That is the miracle of what people of Christian faith call the
incarnation, a heavy-duty theological word that intimidates us, really just
means to be embodied in the flesh. It is God is going to be covering some
ground for us, but not really in terms of geography, traipsing off to the lands
of the north and the distant islands in order to perform a rescue. It means God
is going to travel the length of the human experience, as broken and lost as it
can get.
This
is a fundamental understanding of Christian faith: that the very essence of
God, the very substance of whatever God is, chooses to descend into our midst
and live as one of us. And that one person, Jesus of Nazareth, will come to
God’s own people and, in a sense, bring them back to where they belong. Those
who receive him by faith he will give the power to become children of God.
And
this is how this incarnate Word will cover ground: He will go from appearing
at his birth, which other gospel writers will tell us about, and living among
God’s people, showing his glory through some pretty terrific signs. He will
call some followers to assist in this ministry of rescue, of bringing the word
to the people. Eventually, however, he will travel the same route that all
human flesh must travel: the path to death. However, in his case it will be a
death of great humility, one where he goes as far away from God’s presence as
one might imagine: hung on a cross as a common criminal. This is what the real
“distant islands” and the farthest reaches of humankind looks like: the
darkness of sin and death, the despair of hopelessness and abandonment. Just as
ancient Israel was redeemed and brought home, so to will this Word made flesh
redeem the children of the earth by suffering and dying and then, miraculously,
rising again.
One
of the things that the incarnation of God’s Word in Jesus teaches us is that no
distance is greater than the length it takes to humble oneself to learn what
another is experiencing. There are fewer paths in life for us longer than the
path it takes to empty ourselves, like the Word did, and somehow take on the
experience of another, to learn what another’s life might be like, to meet them
where they are, to understand them as another human for whom Jesus has covered
this ground. In an opinion piece that ran in the New York Times on Christmas Day, Peter Wehner wrote that “The
incarnation…reveals that the divine principle governing the universe is a
radical commitment to the dignity and worth of every person, since we are
created in the divine image.” Wehner goes on to quote a secular humanist (someone
who isn’t even a person of faith) who credits Christianity with introducing the
notion for the first time in history that “humanity was fundamentally
identical.”
When
people who follow Christ cover ground in Jesus’ name, it does not matter how
far we travel geographically to spread his word. Sometimes the greatest ground
we must cover is sharing the experience of the person who is sitting right next
to us, the family living down the street from us, the neighbor we are at odds
with, the friend who is going through a rough time. And it can be difficult and
involve suffering on our part. We end up having to empty ourselves, or lower
ourselves, like Jesus did, in order to make that connection. Covering that
ground—choosing to meet us in our experience—is how God interacts with the
world. It should be the way those who have become children of God choose to
interact with the world.
One
of the most vivid lessons I received on this was on a Foursquare court. It was
with the Epiphany Youth group three summers ago when we travelled to the
farthest reaches of Appalachia, to one of the little towns that are still struggling
with the aftermath of a played-out coal industry. One of our group’s tasks was
to work with the youth in the town of Logan through a summer enrichment
program. Without going into detail, we could say these kids were growing up in
very, very different circumstances than our youth. Those differences made
forming meaningful relationships very challenging.
Thankfully,
there was a Foursquare court in the middle of the camp area and whenever there
was some down time action drifted pretty quickly to some games of Foursquare. One
of the local kids would pick up a ball and start playing. Now, anyone can play
Foursquare. It draws people together. It’s played in P.E. classes across the
country and its rules are pretty much the same everywhere. The Epiphany kids
would line up and join in to play too, except they never got to win. No matter
what, the local kids, whose court we were on, would find a way to get the
Epiphany kids out every time. We were pretty sure they were just making up
rules as they went in order to ensure that our youth would never advance in the
game. And our youth took a beating. It was demoralizing and frustrating for them.
It felt like the Logan youth were just taunting us. I couldn’t believe our
youth wanted to keep playing, but the Epiphany youth realized that’s how they
were going to get to know these local kids. They were going to have to stick
with it. Our kids were playing on their court and they realized the point
wasn’t winning the game, but winning those friendships. They had to cover some
ground that week, humble themselves, and they succeeded.
Learning
to play our crazed game…covering some ground…humbling himself from manger to
cross…from life to death and back again. In each and every year. It was what
God is all about, God’s very essence. It is the nonstop motion of the Word made
flesh. When God’s people, those who have received him and been made children of
the Father, learn to cover ground like this, there will be no stopping the
gospel. When those who have been gathered by a gracious God become people of
the incarnation, fed at the table and washed in the Word, travelling the great
distance between another person’s story and their own, still more will be
gathered from all kinds of distant coastlines.
Declaring
the Word. Indeed, living the Word…the
Word made flesh that has lived among us. We will see God’s glory. From this
fullness—this great distance— we will all receive
grace upon grace. No matter what ground you've resolved to cover for the new year that is already upon us, may it be grounded in the promise that God, in the Word made flesh, has already brought you home.
Thanks
be to God!
The Reverend Phillip W.
Martin, Jr.
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