First United Methodist Church
Birmingham, Michigan
Scriptures: Matthew 2:11-12 and Exodus 13:17-22
January 2, 2005
I do not know how the crow flies. All I know is that’s the way most of us want to go. The shortest route. The straightest path. The quickest way. The crow, of course, is not dependent on good roads, open roads, paved, plowed or salted roads. For the crow can fly above it, to it. To my knowledge, no old timer at a backwoods gas station ever said to a crow: “Birdie, you can’t get there from here.” The crow can get there from anywhere.
Philologists (which is a five dollar word for scholars who study language) tell us that the phrase “as the crow flies” has been with us since at least 1800. No one really knows whether the crow flies in a straighter line than any other bird. And there is a fair amount of anecdotal evidence that crows don’t. Somebody named Sandy Dacombe writes:
Of all the birds I’ve watched, crows are the most acrobatic of aviators. They seem to derive real pleasure from flying. They play with the wind and each other, weaving, sweeping, tumbling in tight barrel rolls and dramatic stall turns. They swoop and glide and hang on the breeze like paragliders. And their hoarse cawing sounds are like the shouts of sheer exhilaration made by a bunch of rowdy street kids.
What is known is that crows have a reputation for elevated intelligence (in spite of having bird brains). Meaning that they could fly straight to their goal, assuming they wanted to.
And there are times when that’s exactly what I want to do. Yet there are times when I don’t. “Let’s go for a ride,” I’ll say to Kris. Which leads to the question: “Where would you like to go?” Well, the truth is, I haven’t the faintest idea where I want to go. I just want to start out and see where the mood takes me. But when she voices a similar desire, I am the one who asks the pragmatic questions:
What should I wear?
How long do you think we’ll be gone?
Have you given any thought to dinner?
How will we know when we get there if we don’t know where “there” is?
But as much as I enjoy back-roading and casual-meandering, my life has been far more purposeful than my leisure. When Ione Shuster told me and my fellow sixth graders that we were going to launch a unit on “careers,” we were told to pick one…any one….and research it. Clearly, she was more interested in teaching us some rudimentary research skills than she was desirous of charting our life course.
Not knowing what to pick, I chose “chemist.” That’s because I had received a Gilbert chemistry set for Christmas and was having a grand time in the basement mixing things in test tubes, heating them on my miniature Bunson burner and seeing how far the resultive explosion could force the cork across the room. So I wrote to the University of Detroit and got a catalog that told me about their courses in chemistry. And I may have done one or two other things pursuant to writing my report.
But that’s as serious as it ever got. And sometime along about grades seven and eight, ministry (as a career and a calling) became crystal clear to me. And I can’t say there has been a significant waver since. Everything seemed to work according to a plan. Doors opened at just the right time. Dollars materialized at just the right time. Mentors appeared at just the right time. Appointments were offered at just the right time. Relatively few surprises. Even fewer regrets. There were three bishops’ assignments I turned down….back in the days when you could still do that. And there were a couple of independent searches by churches in other denominations that almost materialized….and may very well have materialized, had not my feet gotten colder as their pursuit grew hotter. But I have spent precious little time pondering untraveled roads. What was, was. Having about it, in retrospect, the appearance of “as it was meant to be.”
That’s rare any more, and I know it. People’s lives are all over the map. Maybe your life is all over the map. You may even be sitting here at the turn of the year wondering if this is where you want to be. Or, to the degree you see a bigger hand in this than yours, if this is where you are supposed to be. Leading you to wonder about detours and deviations, both the ones you have experienced in the past or the ones you may be experiencing now. Why wasn’t the path more obvious? Why isn’t your life more purposeful?
Years ago….maybe even 25 or 30 years ago….life-planning seminars for clergy were all the rage. Our denomination offered them. And, in the cases of the minimally-salaried brothers and sisters, our denomination was willing to pay for them. So lots of clergy signed up for them, complete with several weeks of self-assessing, goal-setting and career-planning modules. Only to discover that their district superintendents didn’t always pay close attention to them, in deciding where next to send them. For the clergy had made a small miscalculation. In attempting to plan their lives, they assumed more control over their lives than they really had. Or ever would have.
Well, to a degree, what is true of Methodist clergy is true of us all. Taking charge of our lives is a good and desirable thing, as long as we do not succumb to the illusion of having total control over our lives. I don’t have it. You don’t have it. Never had. Never will.
So who does? Well, in my case, all kinds of people exhibit a measure of control over my life. My wife. My kid. My kid’s husband. My stepfather. My bishop….though not for long. My colleagues in ministry. You….most certainly you. Along with the impersonal and amoral happenstances of nature. Those, too, control my life. What did I say to you several weeks ago (quoting Carlyle Marney)? “Nature means to kill us, and may well succeed in the end.” Which none of you believed when I said it. But you believe it now.
To be sure, I can resist being controlled….even rebel against being controlled. But one day I will wake up and realize that my life has been defined by resistance and rebellion. Which is one lesson adolescents never get, but maturity eventually teaches.
But being of a religious bent, most of us wrestle with the idea that God has some measure of control over our lives. The only question being one of degree. As we have talked before, few of us are pure pre-destinationists. One even doubts that there are many of those folks next door. As Methodists, we believe that there’s a lot of room for exercising free will. Although a beloved professor at a Baptist college recently got fired for saying so.
Most of us agree with what I have called “a measure of divine steerage” in the unfolding of the universe. How does the oft-quoted line from “Desiderata” go?
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
And most of you will grant the corollary, that there is a way that God would have you go….a bent for your living….a summons for your answering….a road for your taking. But if that be true, why hasn’t God’s way been “as the crow flies”?
I have but one suggestion to offer this morning (apart from pointing to your own stubborn obstinance….which I have done multiple times before and do not feel led to do now). And that suggestion is this. Have you considered the possibility that some of the detours might be God’s doing….and that God might be leading you “in a roundabout way?”
The phrase “in a roundabout way” comes right out of the scriptures. For that’s what happened to the Jews when they left captivity in Egypt and set out for the Promised Land. We are told they wandered forty years. And as I pointed out in a pair of sermons last fall (for some reason I find myself suddenly captivated by the Exodus), the number forty is biblical shorthand for “a long time”….much longer than expected or desired. So long that they got feisty. Not once. Not twice. But weekly, it would seem (if not daily). We read that Moses died before entering the Promised Land with them. No word on the cause of death. But I’ll put my money on bleeding ulcers. You heard it here. Moses died of bleeding ulcers.
When you consider the distance in years, you also have to consider the distance in miles. Between Egypt and the Promised Land (“as the crow flies”) is 150….maybe 200….miles. That being the direct route….the short route….the route along the coast. But that is not the way God led them. Why? Well, the text suggests a couple of reasons. The first has to do with the word “military.” For it is thought that the Philistines lived along the coastal route. And, as we later learned….given all the battles between the Philistines and the armies of Saul and David….the Philistines were a war-like people. Which means that annihilation might have been a reasonable expectation. I mean, if you ever took the long route home from school so as to avoid the street where the bully lived, you can understand my logic.
But the “roundabout way” may have had as much to do with the word “maturity” as with the word “military.” What God may have surmised was that the Jews lacked the character….the inner toughness….the stick-to-it-in-the-face-of-adversity kind of resolve to carve out a life in the Promised Land (given that while the land may have been “promised,” it was also “occupied”). Maybe that’s why God slowed them down and sent them round. Meaning that the detour was not so much about aberration as it was about formation. Slow learners need to be slow travelers.
It is now believed that there are many (well, not many, but some) high school hoopsters who have the athletic ability to play basketball professionally. Skip college. Take the money. Others have done it. You can do it. But while certain parts of the game may be a slam dunk, life (especially life on the road) is not a slam dunk. For life offers a faster lane than the one that begins at the free throw line and ends at the basket. For while you can get fouled in the game’s fast lane, you can get lost….utterly lost….in life’s fast lane.
Sometimes the roundabout way gives you time to see the pitfalls as well as the options. Surely some of you saw today’s sermon title and said: “Roundabouts. He’s going to talk about driving in England.” Well, he’s not. But he could. For in England, when two or more roads intersect or converge, it is relatively rare that a traffic light will govern who goes first, who goes second, or who turns when and where.
Instead, all drivers coming from all directions enter a traffic circle called a roundabout. And while it is clear to you as a driver where you enter the circle, it is often less clear where you should exit the circle. A hasty decision often spins you onto the wrong road going in the wrong direction. So wiser British heads counsel: “You do not have to choose a way out immediately. Rather, keep driving around the circle until it is clear to you the way you are to go.” But for some people at some intersections, it will take longer than others.
Norman Neaves (a friend of mine who preaches in Oklahoma) shares this about prayer as it relates to life’s journey:
If what you pray for is not right….and you are not right….and the time is not right….God will answer your prayer by saying “No.”
If what you pray for is right….and you are right….but the time is not right….God will answer your prayer by saying “Slow.”
If what you pray for is right….and the time is right….but you are not right….God will answer your prayer by saying “Grow.”
And if what you pray for is right….and the time is right….and you are right….God will answer your prayer by saying “Go.”
I am not sure there is a direct road to your personal Land of Promise. But neither do I believe that every detour is necessarily the work of God. Some, yes. All, no. But whether or not God is behind your detours, God is able to use them. Meaning that no experience of your life should ever be viewed as a total waste. Let me repeat that once more. No experience of your life should ever be viewed as a total waste. You are who you are as a result of where you have been….what you have done….and who you have met along the way. Someone once said to me: “I may not like all of my past, but I needed it.” With which I may not totally agree. But I have slowly…. very slowly….come to see that some of the things I thought I needed least, God has used best.
* * * * *
Kris and I had a relatively quiet New Year’s Eve. Along about supper time, I did a wedding here at the church. Then I looked in on some of the First Night venues unfolding in our building. Following which the two of us enjoyed a quiet candlelight dinner with a pair of good friends. Truth be told, we were in bed before 11:00.
But sometime along about six in the morning, I had a pair of dreams that were relatively unsettling. In the first, I was preaching my Easter sermon, but you all left three or four minutes before I came to the end. I alerted you to the fact that I was nearly done. But you left anyway. Nothing malicious. Nothing personal. You just left. Walking out past me, I overheard one of you say something about it “being the time to go.”
In the second dream, I had a ticket to a baseball game at the old Tiger Stadium….where I was to meet my son, no less. Having been at the stadium countless times, I was confident that I could find my way. And, from time to time, I could see the outline of the stadium in the clearing of buildings, telling me that I was heading in the right direction. Except I couldn’t get there from where I was. Roads were under construction. Traffic patterns had changed. Barricades had been erected. In one case, I even wandered through a slum house in the inner city, thinking I was taking a shortcut.
As to why Tiger Stadium should have appeared as “the Promised Land,” I do not know. All I know is that at a time in my life when “the way” is less clear than at any time since the seventh grade, I have more confidence in God than I have in the crow.
