Abram, too, took off with no known destination. He went-for the love of God and God's promise. He didn't even know how the promise might be fulfilled or how difficult or dangerous the journey would be.
Faith tugs at the sleeve of many, not always with specific destinations or clarification of the risks.
When Martin Luther set out to correct the excesses and apostasies of the medieval church, he had no idea where it would lead him or the church. He only knew that God called him to proclaim that salvation was by grace through faith and not to be bought from the church as an institution. He did not anticipate a Reformation. My own spiritual forbearers, the Anabaptists (sometimes referred to as the radical wing of the Reformation) likewise knew only that God's word called them to an adult, community of faith and active discipleship. They didn't envision a Mennonite denomination.
Today some feel the tug to sit with Palestinians in Christian Peacemaker Teams. Others feel certain the call is to solidarity with Israel. Some feel a tug to purify the church and define boundaries. Others feel the call to speak for breaking down the barriers. Like Abram, we set out on journeys of faith, not knowing the final destination or the price to be paid.
But don't these journeys run at cross-purposes? The destination certainly must be division rather than renewal. Does that not invalidate the journey-or at least someone's journey? Or does it mean that we must never be satisfied with the destination we have reached? At the destination of every journey of renewal lies a new set of circumstances, tugging us to yet another destination. Could the final destination be one of reconciliation?
For a woman in Samaria, the journey was less a physical than a social and political one when she encountered Jesus at the well of Abraham's grandson, so many years after he set out. Jews and Samaritans both claimed to be the true followers of God. Each claimed that they knew the true place and form of worship-any surprise that, for each, it lay in their domain. Samaritans claimed Mount Gerizim. Jews claimed Jerusalem. John 4 assumes this conflict but with two people who seem willing consider transcending it.
Jesus exhibited his willingness to explore that possibility by asking the Samaritan woman for a drink. She was surprised. Jews had nothing to do with Samaritans. Rabbis taught it was dangerous for a man to talk with a woman. But Jesus engaged the woman in conversation. He suggested that not only did she have something he needed but that he had something for her. At first, she misunderstood his offer. How could Jesus provide water without the proper equipment? How could that water quench her thirst for all time?
But she felt the tug. Although she still misunderstood, she decided to risk the journey, to break the custom, and to ask for Jesus' living water.
When Jesus response seemed to disclose his prophetic ability, the woman decided to venture further. Perhaps she could get an answer to the age-old question. Who was right? The Samaritans? Or the Jews?
Jesus suggested a further step. The answer lay not in a correct choice between the two but in a truth that transcended both.
Perhaps we must remind ourselves that solutions to our religious divisions, may not end in discerning who is right and who is wrong. Perhaps our divisions are the tug that calls us toward a place that transcends division-beyond the status quo. "The time is coming and now is here when true worshippers will worship is Spirit and in truth."
To worship in Spirit and in truth, as Jesus makes clear, we must make God's social, political, and spiritual order (the kingdom of God) our sole destination. But that order continually calls us beyond our comfortable religion to a new and renewed experience of God's truth. We who want to open the church may be called to explore the value of boundaries. Perhaps there are ways to draw boundaries that don't exclude. Those who want to purify the church may need to look beyond the limits of control. Perhaps there diversity can be achieved in an orderly way.
Wherever we are, Jesus tugs at our sleeve, "I who speak to you am he-the messiah-the one who will bring all things together."
But even that calling may not last long in one place. Jesus does not call us to come sit down. He calls us to follow.
Abram had to leave a comfortable home and family behind. Jesus and the Samaritan woman had to leave behind old prejudices. So also, we may have to leave behind familiar religious territory and cherished prejudices.
When I was a child, Catholics were idolaters. Methodists weren't quite right because of infant baptism. Lutherans worked on Sunday, which was a sin. The Evangelicals were holier-than-thou. It was a comfortable place to settle, where the Mennonites were all right and everyone else was wrong. But then God yanked at that sleeve of self-righteousness wanting to show people a new country.
Is that not what conversion is about? With new convictions, one must leave behind many precious ideas that no longer fit with one's new life. But conversion never ends-it continues through life. Salvation is no static reality, no comfortable home. Rather salvation is a journey. God moves before us, transcending even the wonderful insightful truth to which God just called us.
Remember Abram. He went to Canaan where God had called him. There, at Shechem and the oak of Moreh, he built an altar. But then he journeyed on. He pitched his tent between Bethel and Ai and built a new altar there. Then he journeyed south.
That is faith's pattern. Build a mission, a ministry, a vision-make an altar. Then move beyond that to the new revelation that transcends the one received before. God always calls us to new heights of faith.
That does not mean that where we are now or have been is invalid. But it will not serve for all time. Despite our best efforts, we never quite catch up. God remains one step before us. When we think we've arrived, there God is, out ahead once again calling us forward. So, we must open ourselves, yet again to God's Spirit and truth.
We, who are Christians, believe that Jesus Christ leads us to God, who transcends all human expressions of the truth of God. Worship forms, religious traditions-even our reading of scripture-are human. To worship God in Spirit and truth means to realize that even our most precious certainties will be transcended. When we ask, like the Samaritan woman, "who is right-we or they?" we won't get the answer we want.
Jesus answers, "Neither this mountain nor Jerusalem, neither conservative nor liberal, neither you nor they. I, who sit before you call you to a transcendent experience. To follow me takes you on a journey to God's land that. Come, I want to show you something-a reality that brings all things together."