Service sheet, with readings and hymn suggestions.
I was thinking this past week about traveling. Not that I’m going anywhere anytime soon, mind you — few of us are. I know some people cannot wait to get out of their houses and go somewhere, anywhere! — Clare, Kerry — but preferably somewhere like Lanzarote or Portugal. You know, somewhere with some sun — except it’s been lovely around here lately.
Actually, I was thinking this past week about trips to Dublin that Kirk and I have taken since we have been here. Sometimes we have driven the car. It took us a while to do that, I confess. Even though both of us have driven major motorways in the States, with fast nonstop traffic, like driving the Beltway around Washington, DC — even though we had done such things many times, venturing onto the M50 in Dublin, or driving through the Dublin streets, felt a bit intimidating when we first arrived here.
So when we have wanted to go to Dublin, and we did not need the car once we were there, we have taken the train. We can sit back, look out the window at the fields and the sheep and the cows, and go through a few towns, and then look at more sheep and cows, and before we know it, we’re at Heuston Station in Dublin. What is surprising to me is that even with the stops, the trip to Dublin on the train does not really take any longer than driving, and it’s lots more comfortable.
In truth, I love traveling by train. I was thinking about train journeys this past week after reading the Gospel lesson, where Jesus says to the disciples, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also.”
Now what in the world does this statement from Jesus have to do with trains? It is that Jesus provides us with the track, the track through life, and he himself is the destination, which is to know God and to be blessed and guided by God’s Holy Spirit and to have life and have it abundantly. That’s what Jesus says he came to give to us.
The thing about trains is that they cover all sorts of terrain. They go through the fields and towns of Ireland. I once took a train trip across most of the United States, from east to west, in order to visit friends living in Seattle, in the very northwest corner of the country. You know how big the United States is, I think. On this train trip, I went across farmland and the big open prairie, through major cities, and over and through mountains. I did not have to think about the direction I was going because the track provided the way. I did not have to navigate the streets of Chicago or worry about getting lost in the big open plains.
I have also traveled by train in Switzerland, in the middle of the winter. There the track goes through tunnels and across mountains and on the edges of cliffs, even in a snowstorm. It is amazing that tracks could even be built in some of the places where the train goes. But there it is, and the train takes us to our destination.
“I am the way,” Jesus says. He is the way through all the various terrains and weathers that we must face in our lives: the storms, the sunshine, the mountains, the valleys, the flat places. Whatever circumstances we travel through, he provides the way, and we can keep going on. Without him, we might get stuck in a snowdrift, we might lose our way in the prairie, we might stumble and fall on the mountain, we might go round and round one of those big roundabouts on the M50, not knowing where to get off. We are not oblivious to the things that surround us, the circumstances through which we travel and in which we live, but Jesus takes us through the rain and the snow, across chasms, through mighty obstacles, all the while keeping us safe and protected.
Jesus has said to the disciples that he is going to prepare a place for them, and then he says, “You know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas protests: “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”
The thing is, Thomas is looking for a route — as though following a GPS system, the voice in your car saying, “In 200 meters, turn right” and so on. That is not what Jesus gives to us. He does not tell us, You’re going to be born and grow up in County Limerick. And then you’re going to go to university in Cork, say, and then travel abroad and then come back and settle down. He does not tell us from the outset just what job we will have or who our friends or our spouse will be. And he especially does not tell us when we will die. So when Thomas says, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” he is asking for a GPS system. But that’s not what Jesus gives us.
Instead, Jesus himself is the way and he is the destination. To continue with the train image, when we get on a train, we generally know where we are going. Kirk and I buy tickets to Dublin, and expect to get off at Heuston Station. When I went to see my friends in Seattle years ago, it was a long trip, but I knew where I was going. In life, we do not know what will happen; we do not know where we are going, in a worldly sense. But that is to be like Thomas, saying, “Lord, we do not know where you are going.”
Jesus was suggesting to Thomas and the others that they look at it all differently. The fun of a train ride is the experience of the trip. Jesus is the track, taking us to the destination, and he is the train engineer driving the train, but we have to let him do the driving. To follow Jesus is like getting on a train and knowing that this itself is the destination, because he is also the truth and he is abundant life. The destination is simply to be on the train, knowing God and being blessed and guided by God’s Holy Spirit, because that is the benefit of being on the train. The destination is simply to have life and have it abundantly. That is what Jesus came to give to us.