Thoughts on Sunday School

What does it mean to be a friend? Is friendship a function of time? or is it a function of depth? How does one become a friend, and what is the cost of such becoming?

I suppose it is natural for me to ask such questions; after all, I have little experience in such things. I have been a ship sailing an empty sea, occasionally I would come along side another vessel and stop to talk, but the talk ended with the leaving and there was never more to be said. If friendship is a function of time I never had enough to spend, and if it is a function of depth I never dove far enough. I have always feared to hold my friends to close, lest they cut me with goodbyes.

Yet, that is not how it is supposed to be. We were called into communion. Christ asked the Father that we would be one in Him, just as He and His Father were one. What greater love could their be than a love, a friendship, that takes a plurality of people and makes them one? If such friendship is a function of time then we must make the time, and if a function of depth we must be willing to dive all the deeper. It is the shallow fellowship of a weekly linked community that has often stifled the church.

This last week I was challenged in my Sunday School class with the question, "What must you do in order for the church to return to the 'spiritual parent' and 'spiritual child' relationships that once defined the Christian walk?" If we think of Paul and Timothy, how they lived and worked together, walking over the many miles of road in their travels. Paul then told Timothy that he was to pass on the teachings of Paul, teachings learned in real life and in struggle, to faithful men who would teach others also.

Could I walk such a road? Do I have the courage and strength to keep walking despite the stonings and beatings, despite the pain. Could I learn to love even when it is hard, even when I don't want to and the distraction of my books and papers sounds like a Sirens call? I cannot help but think that this is exactly what I must do, and that scares me.

Words Fail Me

It seems that in recent days I have begun to run out of words. I don't know if I have used up my quota, or if there even is a quota. I almost think it must be like those go-phones the cell companies have, you know the ones, where you have to buy minutes ever couple of months. Except, I am not sure where one goes to buy new words when one is running out. Is there a store where they sell words (and just as important, do they have any used words on sale?) I would appreciate directions if there is such a place, because at the moment I fear I am quite near to running out.

The sensation of nearing the end of my lingual limits is quite bizarre. Usually I have no problem throwing together numerous combinations of words and phrases, all intended to communicate something (I suppose.) But not recently... over the last few weeks I have found myself growing quieter and quieter, always sitting back and listening and never sure what to say. It is as if I had lost all my intellectual and social capabilites, as if I could no longer trust words to come from my mouth or to carry meaning. I found myself sitting next to a friend the other day, totally unable to find a syllable to say (let a lone a coherent sentence or a full paragraph.) If loneliness is tragic, then the inability to reach out to a fellow human who is at ones side is the ultimate horror. It is incomprehensible that I should be at such a loss; but what can I say, it seems words have failed me.

Pilgrim

In recent days I have felt a strong desire to put on a monk's habit and begin walking the earth, a physical manifestation of a spiritual reality. I am a sojourner, a pilgrim walking down a long road, toward a goal I cannot wholly see. What is the point of this journey, the long walk to fall before the King?

I have always believed that the journey was about the destination. One does not drive to no-where, there is a goal, a destination; but are journeys of the soul like that? Or are journeys on this earth even supposed to be like that. The backpacking trails that I love often lead to no where special, the end of the journey is not the point, the point is the journey itself. We walk across mountains and ridges for the sake of seeing them, for the sake of what may be along the trail, not for the end we are destine to approach. Mayhaps there is some lesson here for the wandering pilgrim in life, walking toward the eternal life of our God and King, and Jesus, our savior. Perhaps we are to keep in mind the goal, but also enjoy the journey, enjoy the time that we must spend in faith and hope. The day will come when the end of the trail will come, and we know that that end is the greatest glory we can imagine and more. But by focusing on the end are we forgetting the glory of the trail, the lookouts and the rivers that are to be crossed? Can we keep both the journey and the end in sight, so that we walk wisely in this world, with joy in our Lord, yet with the hope and glory of a future we cannot imagine?

Lord help me to do so.