Three Roads [47]
Life for all of us is a journey. That is far from being a new concept. The oldest known story in the world is the ancient Babylonian Epic of Gilgamesh, where a young king sets out on a journey to find eternal life. He does not find it, of course, and finally has to come to terms with his own mortality. He was not the first, nor will he be the last.
The concept of the hero’s journey is common in the great stories of the ancient world. In the Old Testament, Abraham set out on a journey of faith, as did Moses when he led the people out of Egypt and towards the Promised Land. In our culture, Pilgrim’s Progress is a famous mystical account of the journey of Christian towards the Celestial City. One of the great novels of the twentieth century is “The Grapes of Wrath” by John Steinbeck. If you haven’t read the book, you may have seen the old black and white movie which is now a classic. It’s a story (that includes many Biblical allusions) of the Joad family, making their way from the dust bowl of Oklahoma to “the promised land” of California during the time of the depression in the 1930s in the face of poverty, hardship, prejudice and injustice. These are only a few examples of journeys.
In the Christian life, we are never static. In fact, like Christian in John Bunyan’s “Pilgrim’s Progress” it is a highly personal journey. In many places, Scripture sees the life of faith as a road, or a way or a journey. You could say that we all make our own individual hero’s journey.
We can find this vividly in the book of the prophet Isaiah: And there shall be a highway for the remnant of his people which shall be left, from Assyria like as it was to Israel in the day that he came out of the land of Egypt [48]
...and a highway shall be there and it shall be called the way of holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein. No lion shall be found there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon; it shall not be found there. But the redeemed shall walk there and the ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and sorrow and sighing shall flee away [49]
Supremely, the Old Testament speaks of the one who is to come and who calls all his people to make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
And we also see traces of this in the New Testament. Saint Paul speaks of the Christian life as a race that must be run and at the end of which we receive a crown, but not a crown of laurel leaves, which victorious athletes would have received, but a crown of victory which never fades or perishes.
The Letter to the Hebrews sees the Christian Life as a march of the onward going pilgrim people of God who follow Jesus, the pioneer and perfector of our salvation, the one (whom we are told elsewhere) is the way, the truth and the life. Today, following on this theme, I would like to look at three Biblical roads, roads that could be real in a geographical sense but which I would like to look at with you now much more in a spiritual sense and which illustrate some very basic themes of Christian commitment.
These roads are (1) the road to Damascus, (2) the road to Calvary and (3) the road to Emmaus.
Road 1 – The Road to Damascus
This is a road that we all know, even if we are not entirely sure that we do! Let me try to explain. When we think of Damascus we inevitably link that in our minds with the dramatic conversion of Paul. In the Book of Acts [50] we read that Saul (as he was known then), still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogue at Damascus so that if he found any people who belonged to “the way”, he might bring them to Jerusalem. Paul was out for blood, showing a zeal which would have been considered fanatical even in his contemporary Judaism. Paul recollects in his Letter to the Galatians [51] in no uncertain terms how he persecuted and wasted the church tearing and ravaging it like some wild beast with its prey. He was very much on the warpath.
The Jews believed – and still believe – in the essential oneness of God. Yet here was this Jesus of Nazareth who dared to accept public acclaim as the Son of God, this same Jesus who had been executed as a criminal and blasphemer being held up as a messianic figure. His disciples were spreading abroad an extraordinary and dangerous rumour that this same Jesus was still alive, not as a ghost but actually risen from the tomb. His followers were claiming that this Jesus was indeed the Messiah and Saviour, promised in the Old Testament and that in him men and women could find life: and this would be quite apart from the rituals of priest and temple and indeed all the traditions of Judaism.
This rumour, thought Paul, must be stamped out and ruthlessly eradicated. The basic and fundamental truths and traditions of Judaism had to be preserved at all costs. Many years after his conversion, he could say about himself that not only had he laid waste the Christian church but also had advanced and profited in power above all his contemporaries and those of equal ability because he was so zealous for the traditions of his fathers. Fortunately that was all past and gone. Although he had set out from Jerusalem to go to Damascus in triumphalist mood, it was a very different man who, temporarily blinded, groped his way into Damascus having seen and met the risen Christ on that famous road.
I think we can take the account of Paul’s conversion as read – the brilliant light, the voice, the dramatic change in his whole outlook and way of life whereby he became the slave of Jesus Christ. More than that, the conversion on the Damascus road brought into the fledgling Christian community one of the most brilliant intellects in the ancient world who would become one of the greatest ever of Christian apologists, a man who by the grace of God was given both the power and the incredible opportunity to change the history of the world.
The road to Damascus is a road which, figuratively, every Christian must travel. After all, all Christian men and women are changed people who have been, if you like, “converted”, born again by the Holy Spirit. Now this comes to different people in different ways. Some people can point to an exact time or the circumstances when they “saw the light” and realised what it was all about. There are others (and I put myself into this category) who cannot point to any specific place or time but are aware that they have passed through a process, sometimes taking months or even years. I have little patience with people who engage in conversion “one-upmanship” whereby they speak endlessly about their subjective experience with the clear implication that theirs was better than yours and perhaps even implying that they are “better” Christians as a result.
What matters is not so much the experience as the result. Are you aware how radically your life has been changed? Have you actually accepted Jesus Christ into your life? That is between you and God but whether you have or not matters much more than the when or the how.
Now many people do genuinely like the example of Jesus and think of him as a great man with an inspired message. Such people do not in any way reject Jesus but have never fully accepted him. They may have even read their Bibles regularly and been constant in prayer and yet something is still missing. But the question I put to myself as much as to others is “Have you actually accepted him?”
Accepting is rather different from admiring. It is good, in some senses, to be “not far from the kingdom” but it becomes counterproductive to remain in that state forever. Our very nearness may lull us into a sense of false security, perhaps relying on our churchy upbringing, the comfort of a church fellowship, a life that has been free from wild excesses, even a life that seeks after truth. Yet that is not quite enough, is it? There is all the difference between being inside and outside. Next time there is heavy rain, try standing inside your back door and then outside. You will see a big difference! And the difference will be just the same whether you are standing just outside the door or half way down the street. You will get equally wet.
Most of us, let us be honest, would like a foot in both camps. It has become increasing common recently to see cyclists riding along the pavement when they are held up by traffic on the road. They want it both ways; to be road users and pedestrians at the same time. There is a parable here for us. Do we like to be Christians on Sunday and worldly and materialistic during the week? As always, I say this more to myself than to other people.
There were many men and women in Judaism at the time of Jesus who were not far from the Kingdom and yet some of them could be stumbling blocks. Nicodemus, a man of culture, intellect and integrity, when he came and spoke to Jesus under the cover of darkness was not far from the kingdom, yet he had to be shown that a man first had to be born again.
Judas Iscariot was so near to the kingdom that he carried the purse for the needs of Jesus and the other disciples. He was as close to Jesus as many of the twelve, perhaps closer than some. There is an interesting tradition in the Eastern Church that Jesus liked Judas third best among the twelve, yet this is the man that was to betray him for thirty pieces of silver.
So near, and yet so far! If you or I sit an exam and the pass mark is 50% it actually makes little difference if we score 49% or 2% because at 49% we have still failed. So near, and yet so far! This is the very state we surely want to avoid. It is almost certain that no one present here is going out into the world today to some hotbed of vice or to totally reject the gospel or the values of upbringing. That is not actually the greatest danger. Our greatest danger is that we should be lulled into a sense of contentment with ourselves as we are, that we should be like Saul of Tarsus when he was in Judaism, very zealous for the faith and traditions of his fathers, very sincere and utterly dedicated – but dedicated to what?
My own home town of origin is Peterhead, on the coast of Aberdeenshire in an area of Scotland known as Buchan. Like most small fishing towns it has, from time to time, been visited by a lifeboat disaster with the resultant loss of life. One such disaster happened many years ago. The lifeboat had been out on all night on a distress call and it made its way home to Peterhead in the early morning. There was still a high wind blowing but it plodded on slowly and doggedly. All seemed well until it came close to the harbour when it was caught up and overturned in a freak wave.
This was in the days before the self-righting boats and there was a tragic loss of life. It was a dreadful event: the boat in sight of home, she had weathered the worst of the stormy night and yet at the last moment she capsized. So near and yet so far! How many people are like this? Let me ask you – and I want to do this graciously and not in a finger wagging way – have you personally accepted (or are aware that you have accepted) the invitation of Jesus Christ and given him the lordship of your lives?
It is one thing to believe propositionally in the power of Christ to set us free and for us to agree on the soundness of such a principle. It is another thing to claim this power as our own, to walk the road to Damascus. You don’t need to look for drama just for the sake of it. Just look for changes in your life and expect and believe that Christ will continue to change your life by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Road 2 - The Way of the Cross
The second road I would like us to consider is the way of the Cross, the Via Dolorosa. This is the winding road from the place of judgement to the hill called Calvary. That is the same road on which Jesus stumbled and fell under the weight of his heavy Cross and where they compelled Simon of Cyrene to carry it for him.
So often, indeed so very often, during his ministry, our Lord had warned both his disciples and his would-be disciples what they might have to be prepared to undergo. They might have to forsake everything – houses, possessions, friends, parents and family. All these might have to take second place. They were to take up their Cross daily, to drink of the same cup as Jesus and be baptised into his suffering and death.
This can sound a daunting prospect and fortunately it is only one side of the coin. Some people hover on the brink of Christian commitment. They worry that too much will be demanded of them. At the other end of the spectrum there are those who think that if they become Christians, this will ensure that they are protected from all the unpleasant aspects of life – loss of money, failure of business, loss of status or job, illness, bereavement and even the human reality of death itself.
Our faith does not work like either of these unhelpful extremes. Being a Christian does certainly demand much of us and yet at the same time it gives us strength to become more than conquerors. Jesus said that his yolk was easy and his burden light. We need to remember, however, that although the grace of God is free, it is not cheap. We do not generally put much value on things that we get too easily or even for nothing. You may remember how, at one stage, the Lord commanded King David to go and build him an altar on the threshing floor of Araunah, the Jebusite and how, when King David went to see Araunah he could have obtained the area of ground from him for nothing. But David declined that kind offer saying that he preferred to pay the proper price. He would not offer to God something that cost him nothing. So he duly bought it for the market price of 50 pieces of silver.
In the USA, where there is a complete constitutional separation of church and state, there are certain institutions that can legally offer “religious” degrees. Some, indeed many, of them are absolutely reputable. Others are less so. It is certainly possible to send off a relatively small sum of money and immediately receive an honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity, without any questions being asked. These degrees are perfectly legal even though they are not officially recognised in the United Kingdom. Some people might even be impressed if their minister suddenly became a Doctor of Divinity. But to those in the know, this degree would be of no value. And equally, would the holder of such a degree, even if it is legal, actually feel comfortable about having an apparent honour that he had not earned?
And yet, in contemporary society many people seem to think that everything should be free and easy in the wrong sense. Look through adverts in magazines and newspapers. “Learn to play the piano in a week – no previous knowledge required.” “Wonderful free offer – no obligation.” “Speak French without Tears.”
We are living in a society where we demand instant gratification for the least possible effort. It does not strike many people that it is only by the grace of God that they are allowed to live at all and that they are constantly surrounded with countless evidences of God’s love and providence. Jesus calls us to radical obedience, to take up our Cross daily and follow him – and (here is the rub) only we as individuals know what that actually means for us.
If we lived in certain communist [52] countries, we might have to withstand a degree of persecution, some kind of “fiery trial” as Peter calls it in his first Letter. Maybe for us it will be loss of a job when refusing to submit to doubtful practices, loss of a close and dear friend and misunderstanding by family. Is it worth it? Only you know the answer to that.
Many of us can look back to some church service that has been especially meaningful for us or has had the greatest influence. If I may speak personally, my pride of place would go to an Edinburgh University service [53] that was held in St Giles Cathedral when the guest preacher was a redoubtable and controversial figure, Malcolm Muggeridge. I can remember him from the days of Panorama with Richard Dimbleby. His public persona had previously been that of a rather hard and cynical person on the atheistic side of agnostic and with a mind like a steel trap.
St Giles was packed to the doors mainly with students and many had to be turned away. Most had come not to hear the Christian gospel but to learn if Mr Muggeridge was about to resign as Lord Rector of Edinburgh University.[54] Many who came got more than they bargained for. They certainly heard his resignation but they also heard something else. In fact he gave a personal testimony in the one of the most public pulpits in Scotland. They heard him say “It is Christ or nothing!”
Many of them went away laughing at this former sceptic who had often poured scorn on Christian ideals and beliefs. I, for one, was deeply moved by this man’s very public testimony, as it was a very costly thing to do. There are perhaps few more costly things than to hold oneself up to public ridicule and misunderstanding. This is an example of what “costly” can mean. Being followers of Jesus Christ can lead to ridicule and misunderstanding and I believe that this perception will grow as our nation seems to distance itself more and more from the rock from which it was hewn. If we think that the United Kingdom has recently become less Christian, I suggest that we “ain’t seen nothing yet.” [55]
We may consider ourselves entirely reasonable and compassionate people but there are others who will see things in quite a different light and will see our Christian commitment as an offence and stumbling block. This is only one part of the picture, of course. But the invitation and command of Jesus is that we take up our Cross daily and follow him as part of the onward-going pilgrim people of God. The road may be hard, it may be steep, it may be narrow, it may seem impossible and yet, as the hymn says: only he who bears the Cross can hope to wear the victor’s crown.
Is this daunting? Well, it would be if we had to do all this in our own strength. But God gives us more than a template to follow, he gives us every day the gift of his Spirit to strengthen and up-build us. Remember again that Jesus said that his yolk is easy and his burden is light. Our Calvary road will not give God our leftovers; it will demand our whole lives, our whole being and whole personality. As the hymn says
O not for Thee my weak desires
My poorer baser part
O not for Thee my fading fires
The ashes of my heart.
Road 3 – The Road to Emmaus