Wednesday, November 26, 2025
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Pilgrim
I awaken from my nap, Jimmy Cliff’s gospel reggae crashes through my dream. Shocked, bursting off the couch, sure the world is ending, whoosh, the words that carried me through the day fall away like feathers off a dying bird. Then there is nothing, just the sound of silence. And after 81 years, Jimmy Cliff has passed on to the rivers of Babylon.
Jesus said to the crowd:
“They will seize and persecute you,
they will hand you over to the synagogues and to prisons,
and they will have you led before kings and governors
because of my name.
I don’t turn on CNN, I don’t turn on Fox News. I don’t look at my phone quite yet. I have miles to go, and promises to keep. The world turns, and disasters loom aside parades and celebrations, but in just a little while we’ll have supper, sit around a small table, eat our food, and stop asking questions.
You will be hated by all because of my name,
but not a hair on your head will be destroyed.
By your perseverance you will secure your lives.
Just now the sun is setting, and its red orange yellow purple beauty pours through our Urbana office window. Yes! I woke up in time for this awesome sight and mighty sign, which augers evening. In this precious moment I breathe once and then again. I am alive, and magic is afoot. There’s a Thanksgiving on the horizon, just waiting to be welcomed and appreciated. Today to live again, that’s the ticket.
Remain faithful until death,
And I will give you the crown of life.
This sweet promise from Revelation was Mom’s communion verse. Now, remembering morning conversation with Mom years ago, listening in this sudden silence, I know a little of what she (and Jimmy Cliff) now know.
My strong stubborn self insists on being faithful to itself. I matter. But I shudder then, so soon after journey’s start, under blows and tears and doubt. Who am I anyway? What right have I? Through fog and hallucination, I might see a glimpse of God and wonder what to do. Despair? Faith in myself eventually becomes inadequate and finally … OK, say it. Die.
Die here but live again? Far beyond self-actualization lies the land of obedience. Maslow’s hierarchy does not reach up high enough. Knowing a little of my thoughts, emotions and desires soon beckons me into a forbidding forest of unknowing.
Faithful unto death. This awful obedience guides my steps through green pastures into emerald-hard, black jungle depths. Screams of monkeys and a distant throaty roar echo in the air. Who am I listening to? How do I know where my obedience leads? THIS is not the Garden of Eden. In short, I am afraid.
I remember Job and look to his words for the beginnings of a map.
He has blocked my way so I cannot pass,
 he shrouds my path in darkness.
He tears me down on every side till I am gone,
 I am nothing but skin and bones;
I have escaped only by the skin of my teeth.
In time I realize there is something to be said about NOT knowing. My ears retune in the deeper silence. I hear Jesus assuring his friends, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”
So I rest. For a moment. Paul soon disturbs the peaceful silence. My eardrums nearly burst. He shouts, right into my quiet place, “David! You were buried with Jesus into death so that you too may live a new life. Listen! You are united with Christ in death, and you will be united with him in resurrection. So then, David! Offer your whole self to God as one who has been brought from death to life. You now live ONLY under the law of grace.” (cf. Rev 2, Job 19, John 14, Romans 6)
OK, Paul, stop shouting! But … thank you for your clarifying comments. Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life. Starting to make sense.
The kingdom shall be partly strong and partly fragile. The great stone that strikes the statue will become a great mountain and fill the whole earth. For the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that shall never be destroyed or delivered up. This kingdom will break into pieces all th0se previous kingdoms and put an end to them. This kingdom shall stand forever.
My life is a journey of a thousand deaths, and I barely escape each time, and that’s enough. Job leads the way.
Oh, that my words were recorded,
that they were written on a scroll,
inscribed with an iron tool upon lead
or engraved in rock forever:
I know that my redeemer lives,
and that in the end he will stand on the earth.Â
And after my own skin has been destroyed,
yet in my flesh I will see God.
Alongside Job, Daniel knew something Nebuchadnezzar did not. He knew THIS:
I myself will see him with my own eyes – I and not another.
I climb Jacob’s ladder into heaven to receive my crown of life. Then Jesus opens my eyes. I can see that it’s our Father that’s climbing … down! Into our midst, into our catastrophe, and he carries with him those several custom crowns for us to wear, as he invites us into the Kingdom of heaven, and we walk in.
Right here, right now.
How my heart yearns within me!
(Daniel 5, Daniel 3, Revelation 2, Luke 21)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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