Bridge Closing

Dear friends in Christ, grace to you and peace, from God our Father and His Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

If you live in Houlton, or Somerset, or any point east of here, then I am preaching to the choir today, because you already know that the Stillwater Bridge was closed again this week. MN/DOT estimates that up to 20,000 cars per day pass over the Stillwater Bridge, so anytime that bridge is closed for any reason, it impacts thousands of people. Because you work, or shop, or worship, or attend school on the opposite side of the river from where you live, a bridge closing turns your schedule upside down. I get it. I get it. As a former president liked to say “I feel your pain.”

But having said that, I wonder if there isn’t a hidden blessing when you are forced to take a different route every once in awhile? Routines can be boring. Leaving home at the same time, stopping at the same coffee shop, passing by the same houses, hitting the same traffic snarls day after day might be comfortably familiar, but where is the excitement in that? Change is good; just ask a wet baby. But moreover, change can bring us new vision, new insights, and new attitudes, if we’re open to them.

In his extraordinary and perhaps best known poem, American poet Robert Frost writes these words:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

But most often, we don’t have time, or don’t take time use the roads less traveled; for us, it’s life in the fast lane, and in doing so, we fail to experience the new, the different, the surprise that might await us on a different road. And that’s too bad.

Early in his public ministry, Jesus was already coming under scrutiny by the religious bigots of his day, so he chose to leave the region of Judea and return to Galilee. Most Jews making this trip would take the detour around Samaria, and for good reason: Jews hated Samaritans, and Samaritans returned the favor.

Samaritans were a mixed-race people, and the Jews considered them second class citizens. But not Jesus; of course, not Jesus! So Jesus avoids the familiar route, the road most traveled, and walks straight through the heart of pagan country. The disciples probably grumbled; they didn’t like change any more than we do, and now Jesus is making changes to a well known itinerary. And the result of taking the road less traveled is that Jesus runs smack into a conversation with a Samaritan sinner, and it makes all the difference in the world to her. Let me recount the conversation that we read together a few moments ago.

The disciples go off to 7-Eleven to buy dinner, and Jesus is left alone by the well known as “Jacob’s well.” A woman arrives at about noon to draw water, and that, in itself, is odd. Who comes in the heat of the day, a half mile from the city, to draw water…and all alone? Most of the women came in the cool morning, and as a group, and they talked as they walked together, but this woman came alone at noon. Strange.

“Can you draw me a drink of water?” Jesus asked. This was most unusual, since Jews didn’t speak to Samaritans and men certainly didn’t speak to women in public. “Why are you speaking to me?” she asked. And Jesus astounds her and says “If you knew the water I could give you, you’d be asking me for a drink.” “Ha! She responds, “You don’t even have a bucket!” And the conversation moves on from there, between Jesus, the Son of God, and this prostitute, shamed and scorned by her own people, but now encouraged by this kind and gentle man. The result of this encounter finds the woman running back into town, and announcing that the Messiah might be just a few steps away. This chance meeting changed a woman’s life, and all because of a first century version of a bridge closing; an unplanned detour.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

Well, it made a difference for her. It changed her life.

Have you ever wondered if the bridge closings of your life were placed there by God as a way of making a difference in your plans? In God’s economy, is there ever such a thing as a “chance meeting” or an unplanned incident, or an unanticipated turn of events? Or does God guide our paths, or use our unforeseen circumstances to touch and change the world? That is the question that the gospel story prompts for me today.

Two years ago, Our Savior’s Lutheran Church was in the midst of an exciting series of meetings to determine if we would, could, should move forward with the building of a new, formal sanctuary. There were 55 cottage meetings in all, and either Pastor Linda or I attended all but three of them. We heard how much people loved this church, how deeply we value worship, and how necessary a new sanctuary had become. But something wasn’t right; there was a rumbling, a discomfort just beneath the surface of those conversations that told us that it wasn’t the right time. In August of 2008, the Board pulled the plug on our building plans and I have to tell you, I was deeply disappointed. I didn’t want a detour; “Full speed ahead! Life in the fast lane!” That was my battle cry. And then September came, and Wall Street crashed, and suddenly the detour we took in August looked brilliant. It was still difficult to accept, but at least now I understood. Hindsight does that’ it give us perspective.

Maybe you have also found this to be true in your life; you set a course for living and then something happens. It may be as simple as a bridge closing, or it may be much worse. Maybe you lose a job, or you lose your health, or you lose your trust, or you lose your spouse. I would not suggest, even for a minute, that these are just minor wrinkles on the road of life, because they are not! They are terrible at best and tragic at worst. But they do happen in this world of ours, and they can rock us to the core. When we look back on those events, with the perspective of time, and perhaps some healing, we often see rather clearly how that experience molded us, or changed us, or strengthened us for the remainder of our days.

Rabbi Harold Kushner, author of the bestselling book When Bad Things Happen to Good People, writes about his son Aaron, who, at the age of 14, was diagnosed with a disease called progeria. Progeria is an age-advancing disease that caused Aaron to look like a 75 year old man when he died at 15. Dr. Kushner wrote these words in the aftermath of Aaron’s life:

I am a better rabbi because of Aaron’s death. I am a better counselor, a wiser preacher, and a more compassionate friend. And yet, I would trade it all in a heartbeat to have my son back again.

I know for a fact that millions of people have benefitted from the sad experience that Kushner described in his book. Lives have been strengthened, courage has been discovered, and love has been expressed as a result of the road traveled by Dr. Kushner. And all this leads me to say that we don’t always choose the road less traveled; sometimes that road chooses us.

There are people in this congregation today who are on painful, or scary, or uncertain journeys. I will not tell you to buck up and look for the silver lining in the cloud in which you live. That is insanity. What I will tell you is that, if Jesus knew the life history of the woman he met at a well; if he offered to her hope, and encouragement, and it made a difference in her life, then how much more acquainted is Jesus with the challenges that you face? You are not walking alone. You are not without hope. The God who patiently sat with that woman at the well now sits in your presence, and in the presence of those you love. He weeps when you weep, and he laughs when you laugh, and surely walks with you. And one day, you may look back on these weeks or these months, and you will recognize that God was with you, and that made all the difference in the world.

The contemporary gospel group who, incidentally, goes by the name “River” says it this way:

For every heart that has been broken
Every tear that has run dry
When all hopes and dreams leave you wondering
If there’s really anyone who cares
For everyone whose heart is yearning
For someone who knows your pain
There is one so near, he is standing here
And his love is calling our your name

There is a friend, closer than a brother
Who will be there every step you take
Through every trial, every tribulation
His faithfulness will be your strength