Drop the Rocks: Notes from the Trail

Week 2

I want to begin by saying thank you again to all those who are cheering me on as I prepare for this journey of discovery. Some of you are rooting for me from the sidelines with your words of encouragement as well as financial gifts toward my sabbatical. Yesterday, as I was walking around the church there was literally someone in the garden cheering me on as I passed! Thank you to those who have gone the extra step in actually offering to walk with me in various places throughout the week.

This morning my routine was slightly disrupted (it doesn't take much!) and, for a moment, I hesitated while deciding whether nor I would walk at all. With a lengthy to-do list in front of me, it would have been very easy to say, "I'll give today a miss and walk tomorrow." The first surprise came when I said to myself, "No, I'm not going to forgo walking because I've actually come to enjoy it!" My "compromise" (because I was already feeling slightly lazy and unmotivated) was to leave the backpack in the car today. Today, for the first time in weeks, I walked without my backpack. I had gone no more than a step or two when I was taken aback by an unexpected sensation. I suppose I had gotten so used to walking with 25 pounds on my back that I was shocked by the feeling lightness as I set off this morning.

I realized in the moment that God was speaking to me and teaching me a valuable lesson about the burdens that I (and all of us) carry around each day. They become so much a part of us that we don’t give them any thought. Yes, of course there are necessities that any well-prepared and sensible hiker or pilgrim needs to take on the journey. The Bible is full of warnings (from Proverbs to the parables of Jesus) about entering into important undertaking ill-prepared. But it got me thinking about the unnecessary things that we carry through life’s journey.

It reminded me of Luke 10:1-12 where Jesus commissions and sends out the 72 to proclaim the Good News of his coming Kingdom:

1After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them on ahead of him, two by two, into every town and place where he himself was about to go. 2 And he said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. 3 Go your way; behold, I am sending you out as lambs in the midst of wolves. 4 Carry no moneybag, no knapsack, no sandals, and greet no one on the road. 5 Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace be to this house!’ 6 And if a son of peace is there, your peace will rest upon him. But if not, it will return to you. 7 And remain in the same house, eating and drinking what they provide, for the laborer deserves his wages. Do not go from house to house. 8 Whenever you enter a town and they receive you, eat what is set before you. 9 Heal the sick in it and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ 10 But whenever you enter a town and they do not receive you, go into its streets and say, 11 ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet we wipe off against you. Nevertheless know this, that the kingdom of God has come near.’ 12 I tell you, it will be more bearable on that day for Sodom than for that town.

I think Jesus was trying to teach his new apprentices two important lessons. Firstly, he wanted to teach them to trust God — not their own resources — to supply what they needed. And, secondly, the mission was urgent. Extra baggage (literal or metaphorical) would slow them down.

It also reminded me of a book I read early on as I began to prepare for my sabbatical and this pilgrimage in particular: Pilgrimage – Lessons Learned from Solo Walking Three Ancient Ways by J. F. Penn. Sadly, Penn professes to have walked away from the church and the Christian faith in her early years but her book is filled with interesting historical, practical and even spiritual observations. Under the heading of helpful hints she writes,

“The amount you carry will directly affect your experience of pilgrimage. The less you carry, the lighter your pack, the less weight on your feet, the easier the walk, the less pain you will have.”

I’m not sure if she was aware of the deep spiritual truth she was expounding, but what is true in the physical is also true in the spiritual. Each of us carries unnecessary burdens in our everyday lives… doubt, shame, regret… Jesus came to relieve us of these unnecessary burdens. I love the way The Message renders Matthew 11:28-30…

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

What an incredible prospect and promise that is. I’m praying as I’m walking, “Lord, help me to drop the rocks that I carry unnecessarily. Help me to live freely and lightly.” And that’s my prayer for you.

Wrestling and Walking: Notes from the Trail 

Week 1

As I mentioned in my recent letter, I’m preparing for an upcoming sabbatical—specifically by walking the Peak Wesley Way. And yes, the rumors are true: I’ve been in training. (If you missed the letter, it’s available here.)

You might see me walking laps around the church with my backpack on, looking like Joshua circling Jericho. Friends have started inviting me on their favorite local trails, and I suspect some are just trying to figure out if I’ll actually do this whole 47-mile pilgrimage thing. Spoiler: I will.

Most mornings I begin my walk in prayer, scripture reading, and reflection. Once I’ve had some time with the Lord, I usually switch over to music. Now, people have described my music taste in a variety of ways—“eclectic” is the charitable version. “Weird” might be more accurate. Case in point: one of my go-to walking soundtracks is Charles Wesley hymns.

The other day, a hymn stopped me in my tracks—“Come, O Thou Traveler Unknown.”

Originally published as a poem titled Wrestling Jacob in Hymns and Sacred Poems (1742), this piece captured the imagination of Charles Wesley’s contemporaries—so much so that Isaac Watts (the guy who wrote When I Survey the Wondrous Cross) said it was worth all the hymns he’d ever written.

The hymn is a meditation on the story we just read—Jacob wrestling through the night with an unnamed stranger. Jacob refuses to let go until he learns the stranger’s name. Wesley sees this as a metaphor for the spiritual life: we wrestle, we persist, we seek to know God—not just in abstract terms, but personally and intimately. And when the name is finally revealed, it is this: Love (1 John 4:8, 16).

The hymn builds verse after verse around this declaration:

“Thy nature and Thy name is Love.”

The tune I like best for this hymn is called “Vernon,” written by Lucius Chapin—a fifer in the Continental Army who endured the winter at Valley Forge alongside George Washington. After the war, Chapin became a singing teacher and wrote music in the Appalachian frontier. Eventually, he moved to Vernon, Kentucky near the Cumberland River where he wrote the eponymous (one of my favorite words!) tune. If you would like to listen to it, you can find it here.

The music sounds like its geography: rooted, soulful, and with a rhythm that makes you want to stomp your feet—or walk. My family is from the Tennessee side of the Cumberland Plateau, so I feel something ancestral in it, too.

And so I walk.
Sometimes I walk with Jesus.
Other times, if I’m honest, I wrestle with him.

But whether walking or wrestling, I keep circling back to the same truth:

His name and His nature is Love.

Watch for more reflections from my sabbatical journey.