July 3, 2022 – 4th Sunday after Pentecost

This morning’s readings provides us rich fertile soil in which to dig, so that we might learn more about God, about Jesus, and about ourselves. As I sat with these stories in prayer, my mind began to race.

In the Book of Kings, the story of Naaman being healed from his leprosy is an interesting story, where in Naaman we find someone who is desperate to be healed, someone who is desperate for change in his life, but someone who did not understand nor was willing, at first, to do what the prophet Elisha commanded him to do. How many times have we wanted change in our lives, to be healed physically, spiritually, or emotionally, and yet were unwilling to take that first step and trust in God? How many times have we questioned and doubted, and wondered just how God is at work in and around us? Will we be healed? Can we be healed?

Or there is the psalm, Psalm 30. This classic psalm of thanksgiving is soaked in praise and thanks for the works of God. The author is clearly inspired by how God has lifted them up from the evils around them as God shielded them and protected them from the dangers of this world. The psalmist writes,

“You have turned my wailing into dancing; you have put off my sack-cloth and clothed me with joy. Therefore my heart sings to you without ceasing; O lord my God, I will give you thanks for ever.”[1]

When was the last time your wailing was turned to dancing? When was the last time you felt clothed in joy? When was the last time your heart sang?

Or there is our reading from Paul’s letter to the Galatians. In this dense passage, we have multiple strands to follow, but they all center on discipleship, and how it is we treat and serve our neighbors, as well as how it is we present ourselves in the world. If we reap what we sow, are we sowing from the flesh or are we sowing from the spirit? Are we working for the good of all, or are we working and serving ourselves?

Now, I could spend the rest of our time together traveling down any one of these avenues, pulling at the thread as it leads us into a deeper understanding of the truth of God, but it was the gospel that captured my heart and my mind because it speaks to a fundamental aspect of a life in God…we are not alone. We have companions on the way.

In Luke, the extension of Jesus’ mission is not placed in the hands of a chosen few. Instead, Luke envisions the mission of the kingdom carried out by many of Jesus’ followers. Luke has already told his audience about the mission of the twelve focused on healing and kingdom proclamation, and now he extends that same ministry to a wider group of followers. They are sent ahead to prepare for Jesus, and they are sent out in pairs.

Jesus’ metaphor of his mission as a harvest sets the tone for the instructions to follow. The metaphor implies both that many will respond to the kingdom’s announcement and that there is a pressing need for disciples who will proclaim the good news of the kingdom. The sense of urgency implicit in the harvest metaphor is clarified in Jesus’ prohibition against taking purse, bag, or sandals, or greeting anyone along the way. These instructions communicate a hurriedness to preparation and travel. This is reminiscent of Jesus’ calling of the disciples in Galilee, when he asks them to “follow me” and they drop everything to follow him. They leapt from their boats and left their families without warning to follow God’s call on their heart.

I have had to leave in a hurry before, wondering just how God was going to provide for me when I knew full well that I was not fully prepared. The only consolation in such cases, and indeed for the disciples, and for the seventy others, was that they were not alone. Jesus sent them out two by two. They had a companion to join them along the way. My heart and my prayers kept coming back to companionship and how it is that throughout our earthly and spiritual journeys we have companions who join us; sometimes for the entirety of our journeys, and sometimes for just a brief portion of our journey. Nevertheless, it is clear from the gospel time and again, we are not meant to do this alone.

So, I spent some more time thinking and reflecting upon my own journey; how it is I am standing here in front of you today. Throughout my journey I can pinpoint several companions who have accompanied me through the ups and downs of this earthly pilgrimage.

I thought of my cohort of friends from my Scouting days, though we rarely connect these days, together we made our way through the Scouting program advancing and growing in knowledge and skills, while also enduring some difficult challenges of camping in less than ideal conditions. One time, while deep in the woods of Maine during the heart of winter, we had to build snow shelters in the midst of a winter storm. It was not an easy task, but when we worked together we were able to build a sufficient shelter that kept us safe and warm throughout the long dark night. As we settled into our sleeping bags, I was grateful that I was not alone. I was thankful that I was sharing this experience with others.

I also thought of the many people who accompanied my throughout the ordination process. From my friends and family who supported my decision to seek ordination, to my friend and mentor Mark, who time and again helped me stay rooted along the path, rather than getting lost down some tangential path that sought to lead me further from God and the call on my heart to serve others.

But what really kept popping into my mind was a journey that I undertook just recently, in which I was companioned by so many, that I never felt alone. Towards the end of February, just one month after my fortieth birthday, I received news that everyone dreads and no one wants to hear. My primary care physician called me to tell me that the discomfort I was experiencing was very likely being caused by a cancerous tumor. It is hard when you first hear the word cancer. As my primary care physician was trying to reassure me that there is a pathway forward with treatment, in that moment the world melted away and I was immediately surrounded by a cloud of unknowing. In that moment, regardless of the success rate of treatment, my life would never be the same again. In that moment, I had to let go, even if for just a short time, I had to let go of the path I was walking and embrace a new one. In that moment, I once again emptied myself to allow God’s healing and abiding presence to fill me, surround me, embrace me.

After numerous tests I was diagnosed with Stage Three Testicular Cancer and I began treatments immediately. After a minor surgical procedure, which coincidently occurred a week before I interviewed via Zoom for this position, I began a three round course of chemotherapy; a series of three different drugs all administered via infusions. For three months I was strapped to a chair with dangerous and toxic drugs being pumped into my body to make it well. This was a moment when I felt alone, especially as COVID precautions prohibited others from sitting with me during my treatments. But as I sat there I knew that I was not alone. I knew that I was accompanied by so many who were holding me in their prayers and in their hearts. I received daily letters and emails of encouragement, reminding me that I was not alone. I read scripture daily to remind myself that God’s healing presence was with me in Jesus, so I was not alone. Even during treatments, Stevie would send me off to the hospital each morning with a different stuffed animal lovey to remind me that even though I had no choice in walking this path, I was not alone. I was surrounded by a great cloud of love and care, so much so, I was never alone.

Through this journey of healing, which my body has tolerated extremely well, minus the hair and beard loss, my identity in Christ Jesus has once again been reforged by the crucible of life. And the treatments worked so well that on the Friday before we began our journey to you, my oncologist declared me cancer-free.

I know from my own experiences that we cannot go through this life alone. We need a community of others who will surround us and support us as we navigate the turbulent waters of life. We need others who will share in our joys and our sorrows. Even at the very end of the gospels Jesus says, “And remember, I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”[2] And so, we have some things to reflect upon as we head out into this week. Who has accompanied you on your journey? Who has made a mark on your life and shared in your joys and sorrows? And perhaps more importantly, how have you accompanied others? Where might you come along someone else and join them, even if for a brief moment, on their journey? Somewhere out there (or in here) is someone who is feeling lost and alone, and is waiting for you to come alongside them and share in their life.

Amen.