Leave All You Know

Almost 20 years ago I was living in Eugene when an acquaintance invited me to visit a graduate program in the Bay Area. It sounded exciting and I decided to check it out. The visit went well and I met some wonderful people. But when I left I had the oddest feeling—like something was pulling me to that city—but the feeling wasn’t connected to the school itself! Back in Eugene the feeling continued to grow. I told my spiritual director I felt strangely “pulled” to Oakland, but not specifically to that school or program. It didn’t make sense and I didn’t even like the city. I couldn’t see myself living there at all…   But eventually I went. I felt ‘called’ there.

It wasn’t easy leaving everything behind, letting go of all that was familiar—family, friends, the network I’d created that gave my life meaning. And when I arrived and met with the Director of the school I quickly realized it truly wasn’t for me. So I continued to explore the area, trying to figure out why I’d packed up and left everything else behind. There were a series of frustrating dead-ends and I felt adrift for months. Then one afternoon I walked into an admissions office on the GTU campus and met a warm, friendly woman who welcomed me with open arms. I still wasn’t sure this was the reason I’d moved there, but it somehow confirmed my risky decision to leave friends and work to follow that odd pull to Oakland. As it turned out I spent three years there, and those years prepared me for what I am doing here today. God had led me there. It changed my life.

“Leave all you know and journey to a new land I will show you,” God said to Abram and Sarai. Leave all you know… Leave all you know…

When Jesus took Peter, James and John up the high mountain trail by themselves he was taking them away from all they knew, though they weren’t aware of it. They knew how to walk up a mountain. They were used to following his lead. It was an ordinary day and an ordinary thing to do. But Jesus had something less than ordinary in mind. He was removing them from their familiar surroundings and normal routines hoping they could finally grasp what they had been unable to see before. Prior to that trip up the mountain Jesus had told them he was going to die. Peter had rebuked him, denying the validity of his words. Jesus then used harsh words in return saying to Peter, “Get out of my way! You have no idea how God works.” Or, the more familiar phrase, “Get behind me, Satan!”

When Peter later saw Moses and Elijah communing with Jesus in that mountain top vision he couldn’t begin to wrap his mind around what he was seeing, and maybe he didn’t want to. But he did want to DO SOMETHING!! If he had been able to ‘leave all he knew’ so the Spirit in Jesus could reach him, then he would also have had to hear what Jesus was trying to tell him—that he was going to die soon. He would have had to face his fear, admit grief, and begin to let go. It’s the ‘letting go’ that’s so hard! He didn’t want to do that, didn’t want to lose Jesus! So Peter, the invulnerable take-control fisherman, found something he could do instead of listening and letting go. He would BUILD something!

Building a house or erecting a tent suggests a kind of ‘permanence.’ Peter wanted to keep Jesus here, in THIS world. By building structures for the three of them he could try to insure that everything would stay essentially the same, while Jesus’ influence would be enhanced by the addition of Moses and Elijah. Peter didn’t want to let go. He loved Jesus and liked things the way they were. He didn’t want to leave what he knew. He resisted Jesus’ efforts to open his awareness to God’s larger plan which was unfolding before his eyes. He chose to see only the familiar and ordinary. His everyday consciousness acted as a wall, shutting out what was uncomfortable. It obliterated the larger reality he might otherwise have seen—Mystery itself inviting him to open his eyes and ears so that he might grow. But that’s a terrifying invitation, and Peter wasn’t ready.

So while Peter was still speaking—and completely missing the point—a BRIGHT CLOUD cast a shadow over him. These features of the story call attention to how much in the dark Peter actually was. His words and mistaken ideas were literally covered in shadow. His mind was closed to God’s revelation. He was IN THE DARK. He couldn’t SEE what Jesus was trying to show him. A Voice came from the cloud commanding him to “LISTEN.” LISTEN to Jesus.

Lent is about listening. Without listening, we will not be able to SEE. Listening can be terrifying. What we truly and respectfully HEAR when we leave everything we know will change us. We are taken to a new land where nothing is familiar. We are forced to rely on God, on the Divine within ourselves and others, to find our way. The path through the desert is not easy. The path up the mountain is treacherous. Abram and Sarai. Peter, James and John. Jesus. All faced the challenge of leaving all they knew to make the journey into that new land God wanted to show them. They bore their share of hardships to bring Hope to their people, to carry the message of God’s faithful presence through time to everyone, everywhere.

More than ever before in our history we are challenged to listen. There are so many things we haven’t wanted to hear, so many voices we have been able to ignore while handing responsibility for listening to others. But now we must listen. We must be willing to leave behind the mindsets that have mistakenly allowed us to feel safe. We must have the courage to shoulder our share of hardship so that others might be fed, housed, cared for when ill, accompanied while in prison.

The Gospel is about attending to the needs of the poor, caring for the vulnerable in tangible ways, loving and respecting the stranger. It is a practical guide to building a compassionate community by honoring Jesus’ life, words and example. “Teacher,” they asked, “when did we feed you, visit you, care for you?” “When you did it for these, the most vulnerable, you did it for me,” he said.

The Voice from the cloud tells Peter to listen to Jesus. We, too, must listen. Listen and respond, shouldering the hardships placed on us by the Gospel mandate to love our neighbor. So, this Lent, leave everything behind that blinds you to God’s presence and begin the journey to a new land God will show you. Along the way, listen. Listen to Jesus’ voice in the hopes, fears and pain of the poor. Listening will change you. Living the Gospel will change you. You will become a transfigured heart, a ray of shining HOPE in a desperate world.

 

 

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