Moment Of Inevitability
Stories
Contents
"Moment of Inevitability" by Keith Hewitt
"Cornerstone Faith" by Keith Wagner
"The Path for Troubled Hearts" by Keith Wagner
Moment of Inevitability
by Keith Hewitt
Acts 7:55-60
“There’s something wrong with this one.”
I thought it, surprised myself a little by saying it out loud, and glanced quickly to my left and right to see if anyone had heard me -- or was paying attention, at least. No one was -- everyone was too focused on the task at hand. Relieved, for some reason, I counted my blessings and bent over, picked up another rock and hefted it in my hand, waiting for the chance to take my next shot.
If you’ve never been to one, you may not appreciate that there’s an art ... no, a science to stoning someone. You might think it’s just a kneejerk reaction to someone who’s done something egregious, but you have to remember that it’s a divinely inspired response to sin -- there’s a purpose to it beyond just snuffing out the life of the person being stoned, or else we would just hold him down while someone dropped a massive stone on his head and ended it in one fell swoop.
Take false prophets, for instance, or even adulterers -- you want something more than just their death to come out of it ... you want them to confess what they did to earn it. This serves to both show true contrition in their heart, and to absolve the participants of any doubt or guilt -- essentially a confession is the person’s way of saying, “I deserved this,” so it’s no small thing.
This is where the science of stoning comes in.
First, of course, you have to immobilize the person -- it’s much too hard for people to be precise when they’re throwing at a moving target, even if they’re practiced at it. There’s just too much variation in the weight of rocks, etc. So, ideally, you chase them down into a small gully or ravine, so escape is cut off. Then you throw the first few rocks at their lower body, to immobilize them. Go for the knees or hips, if you’ve got good aim; otherwise, just hit them often and hard enough to knock them to the ground.
Once you’ve done that, you can slow down a little -- which takes discipline! Once a crowd gets going, it can be hard, but if you set an example you can help others to control themselves. Stones should be thrown at the lower body (still) and you can start throwing at the torso, as well, inflicting as much nonfatal damage as possible -- because now you’re waiting to hear from them.
Everyone has a tipping point. I used to think it had to do with the sheer amount of pain they were feeling from having bones broken and muscles bruised by chunks of stone being thrown at them, but I’ve come to believe that it’s more a matter of achieving a moment of inevitability. Up to that point, people scream and curse at the injustice of it all, and then they beg for mercy, pleading with the crowd to stop -- and then, blessedly, there’s the moment of inevitability when they understand and accept the fact that they’re going to die no matter what ... and that’s when the confession comes.
Sometimes, if they’re hurt too badly, it’s just a simple, pleading, “I’m sorry.” Sometimes, if things have been done with some finesse and care, you may get a more eloquent confession. Either way, the object is to get an admission of wrongdoing. More than just death, this is what gives the crowd a sense of justice and satisfaction, so it’s important. You don’t want to hurry things along too much, and miss this moment by knocking someone unconscious or rendering them unable to speak until it happens, or it leaves people with a sense of unease and dissatisfaction.
I mean, think about it -- would you want to have a hand in putting someone to death if you weren’t a hundred percent certain they deserved it? And how else do you achieve that certainty without a confession?”
And that’s where this one was going wrong -- I could sense it.
Looking at his eyes, his expression, the way he knelt on the ground and tried to cradle his broken bones ... down to the way he had stopped trying to wipe away the blood flowing from half a dozen wounds ... I could tell this one had reached the moment of inevitability.
To be honest, other than a brief struggle at the beginning, he had never gone through the first phase of arguing or pleading for mercy, but here he was at the point where he surely recognized that he was going to die ... and yet instead of confessing, or weeping, he was just looking up into the sky as though he could see something we couldn’t, and speaking fervently but quietly -- so quietly I couldn’t hear him over the noise of the crowd, and the periodic crunch of stone on bone that meant another rock had found its target.
Here I committed a breach of etiquette. There is a sort of invisible line -- a boundary -- that forms around a criminal and the crowd that’s putting him to death. By unspoken mutual agreement, the crowd advances this close, but no closer. After a few moments of uncertainty, I crossed that invisible line and stepped closer so I might hear what he was saying.
I missed the first part of it, but what I heard made my blood run cold: “Lord,” he said, “do not hold this sin against them.”
In a heartbeat, the implications of this statement sunk in: far from making a confession, this one was essentially making an accusation -- that we were the ones caught up in sin, and he was the aggrieved party! To this point, I had looked upon today’s death as an act of justice, a balancing of the scales as it were ... but now, to be accused of sin by a sinner pushed me over the edge. Without conscious thought, I found myself hurling the stone in my hand directly at his head, from no more than a few paces away.
And he died.
It connected, and his head snapped back, and he dropped to the ground, suddenly limp. He twitched a few times, his chest heaved once, and then stopped. He was clearly dead.
A few more people threw rocks, but it was over. They thudded into his unmoving corpse and rolled to the ground. Just a few more, and then it was done. Finished. Their work done, the crowd dispersed -- and maybe they felt a sense of accomplishment or justice, but I fear that my hasty action took that away from them and left them feeling unsatisfied.
I know I still dream about that day. I dream about the trial -- such as it was -- and the stoning, and I live those last few moments over and over again ... and I wonder what would give a man like that such delusions that he could face death and not only not care, but also forgive his executioners? I live those last moments over, and I regret my hasty actions.
But lately I’ve come to regret them not because they left us with unfinished business -- but because I think I would like to have heard more from this man, who was still living his faith after the moment of inevitability, in the face of death. Maybe, I think to myself, just maybe, this man knew something I need to know.
But then I just shrug, and try to go about my business, because it’s too late, now, to try to understand this man and the one he called his savior ... isn’t it?
Or is it? I wonder if there are more like him out there, that I might learn from...
Keith Hewitt is the author of two volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). Keith's newest book NaTiVity Dramas: The Third Season will be published September 2012. He is a local pastor, co-youth leader, former Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He lives in southeastern Wisconsin with his wife, two children, and assorted dogs and cats.
* * *
Cornerstone Faith
by Keith Wagner
1 Peter 2:2-10
During one of my confirmation classes the youth had an assignment to locate the church cornerstone. None of them knew where it was located but they finally found it after several minutes of running around the church building. The cornerstone was laid in 1953, although the church didn’t conduct its first worship service until April, 1955. During those two years the church was being constructed and the congregation patiently waited until the new building was ready.
The youth discovered a second date on the cornerstone which was 1868. That date puzzled them. I then told them that 1868 was the year the congregation was formed. But at that time they had no building. They met in the basement of the court house. I told the confirmands that the most important date was the year 1868. A congregation doesn’t have to have a structure to be the church. What matters is the way we treat each other and the way we treat our neighbors.
When Peter wrote this letter, about AD 64, persecutions were still taking place among the young Christian churches. They had been alienated from society because of their faith. Peter was reminding them of the grace of God and that it was essential for them to remain true to their calling. Peter said, “The great worth of which it speaks is for you to have faith.”
Peter assured his followers that God was with them in the present moment. They were to live with a faith that never perishes, spoils or fades. With hope like that they could withstand any sufferings, hardships or crises that came their way.
We have a tendency to forget that the land we live in belongs to the creator. We are no more than temporary residents. Peter is speaking to the faithful who are to follow the cornerstone principle. That is our calling as disciples. That is what God expects of us.
One time the executive staff of a railroad was engaged in a brainstorming session about how to maximize the success of their business. Their talk focused on railroad technology and infrastructures, but they weren’t breaking any new ground until someone suggested that they weren’t in the railroad business. They were in the transportation business. So it is with us. We’re not likely to break new ground as long as we focus on being in the church business. The church is our identity, not our business. Our business is to be a “royal priesthood,” a blessing to all the families of the earth.
What will save us is a “cornerstone faith.” That means there will be times when we are rejected. Rejection is painful. No one wants to be ignored, abandoned, or be cut from the team. Getting a pink slip can be a devastating experience. One thing this parable teaches us is that rejection is part of life.
Tony Compolo tells the story of the “Reject Prom.” It all began when John Carlson, a Lutheran pastor in Minnesota, believed that senior proms excluded many young adults. It had become an elitist affair for the popular and wealthy. The losers and less fortunate youth stayed away. Carlson planned a party for all those who didn’t have a date or couldn’t afford to go to the prom. So he called it the "Reject Prom." It was such a great time the youth wanted it repeated the following year. Thus the "Reject Prom" became a local tradition. In time in got press coverage and Timex corporation gave watches to every kid that attended. Other companies joined in and gave gifts as well. In a matter of time the popularity of the "reject prom" exceeded the high school prom, which by comparison was very boring. Rejection was turned into joy.
Carlson’s cornerstone faith made a huge difference in the lives of those youth. His love and acceptance for them helped them to overcome their rejection.
God is more powerful. The one who was rejected and deemed powerless became the one in power. This is a hard concept for us to grasp. We are anxious about our lives, driven with the need to protect ourselves and look out for number one. How living the “love ethic” and being faithful can result in life in the kingdom is a mystery. As Jesus said, “Have you never read in the scriptures; ‘the stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is amazing in our eyes?’”
* * *
The Path for Troubled Hearts
by Keith Wagner
John 14:1-14
A few years ago my wife and I visited the Vanderbilt Mansion in Ashville, North Carolina. It has over 250 rooms. In addition to the living quarters for the family there are numerous rooms for guests. The mansion includes rooms and activity areas for the workers and their children. There is a bowling alley, indoor swimming pool, ballroom, music studio, laundry and library. It is a self-contained community. Wouldn’t it be great to live in such a fantastic place?
Of course Jesus is not talking about living in a big mansion, like the Vanderbilt Mansion. He is talking about a life situation. The mansion is a metaphor for residing or “dwelling” in peaceful conditions. He was referring to heaven, not in the future but in the present. For Jesus, the kingdom is now. The kingdom “is in the midst of us."
Interstate 40 passes nearby the Vanderbilt Mansion. Thousands of people pass by every day but unfortunately they never see it. Some are not paying attention. Others are in a big hurry. And many are unaware the mansion is nearby.
The kingdom of God was nearby for the disciples but they could not experience it because they were afraid. They had an uncertain future and they were filled with fear. They were lost, unable to find a path that would give them peace and security.
In response to the disciples Jesus said, “Let not your hearts be troubled.” The Greek word for troubled is shuddering. Many folks are troubled, “shuttering” from the overwhelming circumstances of life. There are pressures from work. There is turmoil in families and strain in relationships. People are overworked, overbooked. Life is complex. All of us have worries and fears. We face many challenges. So, how do we find peace in the midst of all the stress of everyday living?
Jesus said, “I am the way...” so I believe he is telling his disciples to follow in his way of loving others.
During the years 2009 and 2010 my wife and I did not live in our own home. To care for her mother we moved in and lived with my wife’s mother, who was struggling with cancer. Some of our possessions remained in our house. Others were in storage. We basically had the bare necessities we needed while living in a temporary situation. Sometimes we felt like a man and woman without a country. It was hard to get away for any length of time. Any sense of living in a mansion of any kind seemed remote at best. During those years we felt as though time was passing us by. Our lives took a different “way” or path.
We took care of my wife’s mother until she died in 2011. During that time of temporary living we learned that our relationships with her mother and each other meant more than any house. We eventually sold our house and we now we live in my wife’s mother’s house which is now our home. As I reflect on that experience it was one of the richest experiences we ever had. We decided not to find a new house or look for a dream home. My mother-in-law’s house was sufficient for our needs.
A few years before my mother-in-law died, the three of us traveled to Maine to visit our daughter in Portland. On the way we visited the Normand Rockwell Museum in Rutland, Vermont. It was off the beaten path so we had to go out of our way to see it. We decided that since we had traveled a great distance a few extra miles wouldn’t hurt. The building was an old church that had been converted into a museum. There were hundreds of paintings and artifacts about Rockwell’s life. One of the paintings was the one where a nurse was attending to a little boy in a doctor’s office. As we were about to leave the museum an elderly woman entered the building. The curator informed us that she was in fact the nurse in the painting. She still lived in the little town. We immediately struck up a conversation with her and we got her autograph on a small picture I had purchased. She was delightful and now the woman in the painting is real to us.
By taking time to step off the path we discovered a wonderful little world. When Jesus said “I am the way” I believe he meant we need to get off the road we are on and let God divert us to other places and most importantly, people.
Regardless of where our journey takes us God is with us. We are never alone. The loving and gracious presence of God is always with us and the peace of God is a constant possibility. Our hearts need not be troubled since God is with us on our journey of life.
Rev. Dr. Keith Wagner is the pastor of St. John's UCC in Troy, Ohio. He has served churches in Southwest Ohio for over three decades. He is an ordained minister of the United Church of Christ and has an M.Div. from Methodist Theological School, Delaware, Ohio, and a D.Min. from United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio. He has also been an adjunct professor at Edison Community College, Piqua, Ohio. He and his wife, Lin, live in Springfield, Ohio.
*****************************************
StoryShare, May 14, 2017, issue.
Copyright 2017 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Moment of Inevitability" by Keith Hewitt
"Cornerstone Faith" by Keith Wagner
"The Path for Troubled Hearts" by Keith Wagner
Moment of Inevitability
by Keith Hewitt
Acts 7:55-60
“There’s something wrong with this one.”
I thought it, surprised myself a little by saying it out loud, and glanced quickly to my left and right to see if anyone had heard me -- or was paying attention, at least. No one was -- everyone was too focused on the task at hand. Relieved, for some reason, I counted my blessings and bent over, picked up another rock and hefted it in my hand, waiting for the chance to take my next shot.
If you’ve never been to one, you may not appreciate that there’s an art ... no, a science to stoning someone. You might think it’s just a kneejerk reaction to someone who’s done something egregious, but you have to remember that it’s a divinely inspired response to sin -- there’s a purpose to it beyond just snuffing out the life of the person being stoned, or else we would just hold him down while someone dropped a massive stone on his head and ended it in one fell swoop.
Take false prophets, for instance, or even adulterers -- you want something more than just their death to come out of it ... you want them to confess what they did to earn it. This serves to both show true contrition in their heart, and to absolve the participants of any doubt or guilt -- essentially a confession is the person’s way of saying, “I deserved this,” so it’s no small thing.
This is where the science of stoning comes in.
First, of course, you have to immobilize the person -- it’s much too hard for people to be precise when they’re throwing at a moving target, even if they’re practiced at it. There’s just too much variation in the weight of rocks, etc. So, ideally, you chase them down into a small gully or ravine, so escape is cut off. Then you throw the first few rocks at their lower body, to immobilize them. Go for the knees or hips, if you’ve got good aim; otherwise, just hit them often and hard enough to knock them to the ground.
Once you’ve done that, you can slow down a little -- which takes discipline! Once a crowd gets going, it can be hard, but if you set an example you can help others to control themselves. Stones should be thrown at the lower body (still) and you can start throwing at the torso, as well, inflicting as much nonfatal damage as possible -- because now you’re waiting to hear from them.
Everyone has a tipping point. I used to think it had to do with the sheer amount of pain they were feeling from having bones broken and muscles bruised by chunks of stone being thrown at them, but I’ve come to believe that it’s more a matter of achieving a moment of inevitability. Up to that point, people scream and curse at the injustice of it all, and then they beg for mercy, pleading with the crowd to stop -- and then, blessedly, there’s the moment of inevitability when they understand and accept the fact that they’re going to die no matter what ... and that’s when the confession comes.
Sometimes, if they’re hurt too badly, it’s just a simple, pleading, “I’m sorry.” Sometimes, if things have been done with some finesse and care, you may get a more eloquent confession. Either way, the object is to get an admission of wrongdoing. More than just death, this is what gives the crowd a sense of justice and satisfaction, so it’s important. You don’t want to hurry things along too much, and miss this moment by knocking someone unconscious or rendering them unable to speak until it happens, or it leaves people with a sense of unease and dissatisfaction.
I mean, think about it -- would you want to have a hand in putting someone to death if you weren’t a hundred percent certain they deserved it? And how else do you achieve that certainty without a confession?”
And that’s where this one was going wrong -- I could sense it.
Looking at his eyes, his expression, the way he knelt on the ground and tried to cradle his broken bones ... down to the way he had stopped trying to wipe away the blood flowing from half a dozen wounds ... I could tell this one had reached the moment of inevitability.
To be honest, other than a brief struggle at the beginning, he had never gone through the first phase of arguing or pleading for mercy, but here he was at the point where he surely recognized that he was going to die ... and yet instead of confessing, or weeping, he was just looking up into the sky as though he could see something we couldn’t, and speaking fervently but quietly -- so quietly I couldn’t hear him over the noise of the crowd, and the periodic crunch of stone on bone that meant another rock had found its target.
Here I committed a breach of etiquette. There is a sort of invisible line -- a boundary -- that forms around a criminal and the crowd that’s putting him to death. By unspoken mutual agreement, the crowd advances this close, but no closer. After a few moments of uncertainty, I crossed that invisible line and stepped closer so I might hear what he was saying.
I missed the first part of it, but what I heard made my blood run cold: “Lord,” he said, “do not hold this sin against them.”
In a heartbeat, the implications of this statement sunk in: far from making a confession, this one was essentially making an accusation -- that we were the ones caught up in sin, and he was the aggrieved party! To this point, I had looked upon today’s death as an act of justice, a balancing of the scales as it were ... but now, to be accused of sin by a sinner pushed me over the edge. Without conscious thought, I found myself hurling the stone in my hand directly at his head, from no more than a few paces away.
And he died.
It connected, and his head snapped back, and he dropped to the ground, suddenly limp. He twitched a few times, his chest heaved once, and then stopped. He was clearly dead.
A few more people threw rocks, but it was over. They thudded into his unmoving corpse and rolled to the ground. Just a few more, and then it was done. Finished. Their work done, the crowd dispersed -- and maybe they felt a sense of accomplishment or justice, but I fear that my hasty action took that away from them and left them feeling unsatisfied.
I know I still dream about that day. I dream about the trial -- such as it was -- and the stoning, and I live those last few moments over and over again ... and I wonder what would give a man like that such delusions that he could face death and not only not care, but also forgive his executioners? I live those last moments over, and I regret my hasty actions.
But lately I’ve come to regret them not because they left us with unfinished business -- but because I think I would like to have heard more from this man, who was still living his faith after the moment of inevitability, in the face of death. Maybe, I think to myself, just maybe, this man knew something I need to know.
But then I just shrug, and try to go about my business, because it’s too late, now, to try to understand this man and the one he called his savior ... isn’t it?
Or is it? I wonder if there are more like him out there, that I might learn from...
Keith Hewitt is the author of two volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). Keith's newest book NaTiVity Dramas: The Third Season will be published September 2012. He is a local pastor, co-youth leader, former Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He lives in southeastern Wisconsin with his wife, two children, and assorted dogs and cats.
* * *
Cornerstone Faith
by Keith Wagner
1 Peter 2:2-10
During one of my confirmation classes the youth had an assignment to locate the church cornerstone. None of them knew where it was located but they finally found it after several minutes of running around the church building. The cornerstone was laid in 1953, although the church didn’t conduct its first worship service until April, 1955. During those two years the church was being constructed and the congregation patiently waited until the new building was ready.
The youth discovered a second date on the cornerstone which was 1868. That date puzzled them. I then told them that 1868 was the year the congregation was formed. But at that time they had no building. They met in the basement of the court house. I told the confirmands that the most important date was the year 1868. A congregation doesn’t have to have a structure to be the church. What matters is the way we treat each other and the way we treat our neighbors.
When Peter wrote this letter, about AD 64, persecutions were still taking place among the young Christian churches. They had been alienated from society because of their faith. Peter was reminding them of the grace of God and that it was essential for them to remain true to their calling. Peter said, “The great worth of which it speaks is for you to have faith.”
Peter assured his followers that God was with them in the present moment. They were to live with a faith that never perishes, spoils or fades. With hope like that they could withstand any sufferings, hardships or crises that came their way.
We have a tendency to forget that the land we live in belongs to the creator. We are no more than temporary residents. Peter is speaking to the faithful who are to follow the cornerstone principle. That is our calling as disciples. That is what God expects of us.
One time the executive staff of a railroad was engaged in a brainstorming session about how to maximize the success of their business. Their talk focused on railroad technology and infrastructures, but they weren’t breaking any new ground until someone suggested that they weren’t in the railroad business. They were in the transportation business. So it is with us. We’re not likely to break new ground as long as we focus on being in the church business. The church is our identity, not our business. Our business is to be a “royal priesthood,” a blessing to all the families of the earth.
What will save us is a “cornerstone faith.” That means there will be times when we are rejected. Rejection is painful. No one wants to be ignored, abandoned, or be cut from the team. Getting a pink slip can be a devastating experience. One thing this parable teaches us is that rejection is part of life.
Tony Compolo tells the story of the “Reject Prom.” It all began when John Carlson, a Lutheran pastor in Minnesota, believed that senior proms excluded many young adults. It had become an elitist affair for the popular and wealthy. The losers and less fortunate youth stayed away. Carlson planned a party for all those who didn’t have a date or couldn’t afford to go to the prom. So he called it the "Reject Prom." It was such a great time the youth wanted it repeated the following year. Thus the "Reject Prom" became a local tradition. In time in got press coverage and Timex corporation gave watches to every kid that attended. Other companies joined in and gave gifts as well. In a matter of time the popularity of the "reject prom" exceeded the high school prom, which by comparison was very boring. Rejection was turned into joy.
Carlson’s cornerstone faith made a huge difference in the lives of those youth. His love and acceptance for them helped them to overcome their rejection.
God is more powerful. The one who was rejected and deemed powerless became the one in power. This is a hard concept for us to grasp. We are anxious about our lives, driven with the need to protect ourselves and look out for number one. How living the “love ethic” and being faithful can result in life in the kingdom is a mystery. As Jesus said, “Have you never read in the scriptures; ‘the stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is amazing in our eyes?’”
* * *
The Path for Troubled Hearts
by Keith Wagner
John 14:1-14
A few years ago my wife and I visited the Vanderbilt Mansion in Ashville, North Carolina. It has over 250 rooms. In addition to the living quarters for the family there are numerous rooms for guests. The mansion includes rooms and activity areas for the workers and their children. There is a bowling alley, indoor swimming pool, ballroom, music studio, laundry and library. It is a self-contained community. Wouldn’t it be great to live in such a fantastic place?
Of course Jesus is not talking about living in a big mansion, like the Vanderbilt Mansion. He is talking about a life situation. The mansion is a metaphor for residing or “dwelling” in peaceful conditions. He was referring to heaven, not in the future but in the present. For Jesus, the kingdom is now. The kingdom “is in the midst of us."
Interstate 40 passes nearby the Vanderbilt Mansion. Thousands of people pass by every day but unfortunately they never see it. Some are not paying attention. Others are in a big hurry. And many are unaware the mansion is nearby.
The kingdom of God was nearby for the disciples but they could not experience it because they were afraid. They had an uncertain future and they were filled with fear. They were lost, unable to find a path that would give them peace and security.
In response to the disciples Jesus said, “Let not your hearts be troubled.” The Greek word for troubled is shuddering. Many folks are troubled, “shuttering” from the overwhelming circumstances of life. There are pressures from work. There is turmoil in families and strain in relationships. People are overworked, overbooked. Life is complex. All of us have worries and fears. We face many challenges. So, how do we find peace in the midst of all the stress of everyday living?
Jesus said, “I am the way...” so I believe he is telling his disciples to follow in his way of loving others.
During the years 2009 and 2010 my wife and I did not live in our own home. To care for her mother we moved in and lived with my wife’s mother, who was struggling with cancer. Some of our possessions remained in our house. Others were in storage. We basically had the bare necessities we needed while living in a temporary situation. Sometimes we felt like a man and woman without a country. It was hard to get away for any length of time. Any sense of living in a mansion of any kind seemed remote at best. During those years we felt as though time was passing us by. Our lives took a different “way” or path.
We took care of my wife’s mother until she died in 2011. During that time of temporary living we learned that our relationships with her mother and each other meant more than any house. We eventually sold our house and we now we live in my wife’s mother’s house which is now our home. As I reflect on that experience it was one of the richest experiences we ever had. We decided not to find a new house or look for a dream home. My mother-in-law’s house was sufficient for our needs.
A few years before my mother-in-law died, the three of us traveled to Maine to visit our daughter in Portland. On the way we visited the Normand Rockwell Museum in Rutland, Vermont. It was off the beaten path so we had to go out of our way to see it. We decided that since we had traveled a great distance a few extra miles wouldn’t hurt. The building was an old church that had been converted into a museum. There were hundreds of paintings and artifacts about Rockwell’s life. One of the paintings was the one where a nurse was attending to a little boy in a doctor’s office. As we were about to leave the museum an elderly woman entered the building. The curator informed us that she was in fact the nurse in the painting. She still lived in the little town. We immediately struck up a conversation with her and we got her autograph on a small picture I had purchased. She was delightful and now the woman in the painting is real to us.
By taking time to step off the path we discovered a wonderful little world. When Jesus said “I am the way” I believe he meant we need to get off the road we are on and let God divert us to other places and most importantly, people.
Regardless of where our journey takes us God is with us. We are never alone. The loving and gracious presence of God is always with us and the peace of God is a constant possibility. Our hearts need not be troubled since God is with us on our journey of life.
Rev. Dr. Keith Wagner is the pastor of St. John's UCC in Troy, Ohio. He has served churches in Southwest Ohio for over three decades. He is an ordained minister of the United Church of Christ and has an M.Div. from Methodist Theological School, Delaware, Ohio, and a D.Min. from United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio. He has also been an adjunct professor at Edison Community College, Piqua, Ohio. He and his wife, Lin, live in Springfield, Ohio.
*****************************************
StoryShare, May 14, 2017, issue.
Copyright 2017 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
