I make more sense, I think, when in motion.
I make more sense to myself when I’m moving, whether it’s running, lifting, or traveling. And with a family across the country and friends flung to the four winds, I do have both the opportunity and the obligation to travel often.
As such, I’ve developed some simple rules around traveling. I always joke that air travel lowers my already low view of humanity. Watching people not follow the rules makes my little heart break and my hair burst into flames. But I have two simple rules when I get off an airplane — if I see someone struggling to get their bag down from the overhead bin, I help them. It’s always good to help other people avoid concussions. This rule especially applies when the bag is being taken down right over my head.
My second rule is to always look both the pilots and the flight attendants at the doors in the eyes and say thank you. It’s always good to remember, I think, that you did not reach this destination safely by yourself.
When you think about it, we rarely travel alone, even when we travel solo.
If you doubt this, think about your last long trip. Chances are, it took at least two pilots to get you there, and maybe also a train conductor and maybe a Lyft or taxi driver or two. If you’ve never flown or haven’t flown in awhile, you might be thinking, “Nah, I drove myself there.”
Even then, however, we rarely travel alone. There are other people on the highway. And there are the people who work to register, insure, and maintain our vehicles. We owe our safe arrival to the people who check our tires and change our oil, and if something goes wrong, we’ll be depending on state troopers, tow truck drivers, or even passers by to help us get out of a tight spot.
We live, increasingly, in a time of isolation, when more and more people are choosing self and family over community — that is to say, we’re choosing to stay home rather than go to town meetings, join community gyms, or, yes, even participate in organized religion. We bemoan how yoga is overtaking church, but if you ask the owners of yoga studios around here, you’ll find that they’re not collecting the people that churches are losing; they’re struggling too.
We are more connected and more isolated than ever.
This is, in part, because of the quasi-illusion of connection that we get from social media. But I think the bigger culprit is that we’re overextended and tired from hours at work that just keep getting longer and family obligations that keep taxing us, leaving people of every age wanting to just hang out in sweatpants at the end of a long day rather than go to some town or church event.
Regardless of the cause, increasingly, we’re alone. Or at least, we think we are.
Today, we cap off the twelve days of Christmas with the celebration of the Epiphany, or the visit of the magi. This year, in this increasing age of isolation, I couldn’t help thinking about how perfectly plausible it might have been to only have one magi visit the child Jesus.
Quick yearly review for those who might have forgotten or never knew it: your nativity scene is a composite sketch of the Gospel stories of Jesus’ babyhood and toddlerhood. No Gospel includes both shepherds and wise men (if you don’t believe me, please, look it up). Further, Matthew doesn’t tell us how many magi there were; he only tell us that there were three gifts.
But what we do know is that “magi” is plural. They did not travel alone. At some point, somebody said, “Hey! I think that star means something.” And they gathered some of their friends, and they took a road trip. And the destination, unbeknownst to them at the time, was love: Jesus Christ, God made flesh.
And when it was all over, Matthew tells us rather poetically that, in order to avoid Herod, inspired by a dream, they “went home by a different road.” Every trip changes us, especially when we meet God there.
It’s the fifth of January, 2020.
We’re all embarking on new journeys. Some of us have New Year’s resolutions to keep, while others are continuing on the same journeys we were on before Christmas: journeys to healing. Journeys to recovery. Journeys to getting those kids or grandkids raised and out of the house. Journeys to career goals and personal bests. Journeys to retirement and rest. Journeys of post-retirement adventure.
We are all on journeys. And it’s important to remember that we never travel alone.
One of the most intimidating new employment experiences I’ve ever had was learning to be an overnight chaplain in a hospital. There were so many procedures to follow, charting to do, reports to give, emergencies to respond to. I struggled to remember what to do when something happened, how to call security if I needed them, how to get in touch with the head nurse if someone who arrived after a death wanted to see a deceased loved one in the morgue.
Finally, I realized: the chaplain is never alone in the hospital. No one is ever alone in a hospital. There are always other travelers, people whose knowledge you can draw on, people you can rely on to help.
No one travels alone.
My friends, this is important to remember as we embark on our own journey as a congregation. This past weekend, several of us were up at Camp Calumet taking part in the opening retreat. One of my hopes and visions for this program is that we will learn to travel, together, as a congregation. We have a ton of energy and more resources than most congregations our size; the opportunity lies in learning to use them together, relying less on a few people and more on ourselves as a unit.
It will take time, and I don’t know where this journey will lead. But what I do know is that we, like the magi, are following a pattern as best we can, trusting that the destination is love, and trusting that God is with us on the journey. And maybe we, too, will leave this journey and go home by a different road, changed forever.
Whatever journey you are on, remember that you do not travel alone, even when it seems like it. And if you have goals this year, I encourage you to find a community to help you achieve them — even psychology tells us that working as part of a group, whether on fitness, reading, learning a language or skill, or any other feat — yields much better results than working alone. [Köhler effect]
My friends, in this age of isolation, the most radical thing we can choose to do is to refuse to be isolated. If you haven’t been coming here much, join our community and let us walk with you. Whatever your journey, find a group to support you. Refuse to travel alone.
Ask for support, or offer it. Ask for help, or offer it. Thank the people who travel with you and thank the people who take you places. Support and remember those who travel with you on whatever journey you’re on, and let’s remember to support each other as we take this journey together.
Before we leave today, we will bless chalk that we will use to bless our homes for the new year. When you bless your home, think of the journeys you’ll take this year — both the literal trips you’ll take and the figurative journeys from here to there. Pray for yourself and for your traveling companions, whoever they may be.
And know that God goes with you, and that ultimately, our destination is always love. Amen.