It’s hard to teach without using words. Words point the way
to so many wonderful places. Yet to get where we’re going at some point we
have to leave words behind. Even 'God' words get in the way of life in God.
I remember watching four or five people each carrying hang gliders up the last bit of a mountain. They’d gotten near the top with cars and trucks, but the last eighth of a mile was an obvious struggle. Then they got to the edge of a massive rock face and, waiting till the wind was right, they just leaned forward and pushed off. The wind—and significant, learned skill, trust and chutzpah—did the rest.
I remember watching four or five people each carrying hang gliders up the last bit of a mountain. They’d gotten near the top with cars and trucks, but the last eighth of a mile was an obvious struggle. Then they got to the edge of a massive rock face and, waiting till the wind was right, they just leaned forward and pushed off. The wind—and significant, learned skill, trust and chutzpah—did the rest.
It's the last Sunday in Epiphany. Another process, another kind of journey waits in Lent. Not so much 'Come and see' as 'Come with me.'
Following, stepping out, stepping off the cliff sometimes doesn't require words at all.
