Let me retell for you the famous story called FOOTPRINTS . . .
One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the LORD.
Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonging to him, and the other to the LORD.
When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand.
He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints.
He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life. This really bothered him and he questioned the LORD about it: "LORD, you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me."
The LORD replied: "My son, my precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.”
What I appreciate about the poem is that is speaks of God NOT out there, but right with us. That is, God knowing our struggles and wounds and holding us up. And it is amazing that on this feast of Christ the King that the Church chooses to use this reading for the gospel. I mean, Jesus doesn’t seem very “kingly” in the gospel. He is naked, suffering, wounded, bleeding and eventually dying.
But that is perfect, for when we think of God, too many times we think of God “out there.” That is, someone in a palace and not connected to our woundedness and our pain. We have turned God into a monarch instead of someone who is like us. Remember, Jesus is fully God AND full human. Perhaps a better title for a feast like today would be: Christ the Servant or Christ the Vulnerable One.
Molly, didn’t you have a recent dream about walking with Jesus?
Molly Weyrens: Yes, I did. It was similar to that dream you described with two sets of footprints. But in my dream, all of a sudden there is only one set of footprints, and there is a long groove next to the footprints. What could it mean?
Kevin; perhaps that is when Jesus had to drag you for a bit.
For many times we don’t want to go where God wants us to go. “Giving up control” is one of the hardest aspects of the spiritual journey. We want to always “have it our way” or to always be on top of things to appear at our best. Maybe another alternative title for this feast day is “God the one to be trusted.”
Mo, didn’t you also have a dream about waling with Jesus?
Mo Putnam: well that is amazing. Just like the other dreams, for much of the way, there are two sets of footprints. But all of sudden there are a disorganized stream of zigzags, starts, stops, turnarounds, circles, departures and returns. A veritable mess of prints. What could it mean?
Kevin: Ah, perhaps that is an indication that Jesus danced with you.
That is the ultimate image of a God who is with us., Not only knowing our hurts and pain, not only dragging us along (into some areas that we don’t want to go) but a God who says, “this life our yours is too precise to always be sad. This is a life of goodness. Trust me.”
Thanksgiving is coming up this Thursday. I think that we have the celebration all wrong. I think that we should be having an “Unthanksgiving Day.” That is, we could all gather with family and friends on the last Thursday of November and complain all day. That’s right, we should all express our disappointments and anger at the world and at each other. We would do this because we were giving thanks and celebrating God’s grace during all the other days of the year.
As it is now, we seem to wait to recognize how God has gifted us on just one day of the year . . . and then we complain on all the other days of the year. Wouldn’t it be nice to become “people of thanks” on more than just one day, or at one season of the year?
We are a people who have God that walks with us during the difficult times, that sometimes needs to “drag us along” into trust . . . and always, always we have God who calls us to celebrate and appreciate life. A God who calls us to dance.
Perhaps a wonderful title for this last Sunday of the church year is: Christ the Dancer. Christ the One who invites us into the dance.