J.M. Barrie once said, “The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it.”[1]  This is our last Sunday at Emanuel Lutheran Church.  This is the last time we will sit in these pews, look at these windows, and listen to this organ.  If we had kept a diary when we began renting this sanctuary twenty years ago, we would surely have written a different story.  Our story has been filled with unexpected twists and turns, moments of great joy and moments of deep anguish.  There have been births and there have been deaths.  The story we intended to write was not the story that has been written for us, written by God’s own sovereign hand.  There are many things I would like to say today; there are many things I would like to write for the last entry we will make in this chapter of our diary.  Yet, I believe I should say just one thing, something that has been a reoccurring theme as we have looked at Israel’s move from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised land: moving is difficult and change is disruptive, but God is greater than all our difficulties.  As St. Paul states in Philippians 4, “for I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content. I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound; in any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want.  I can do all things in him who strengthens me.”  Moving is difficult, but Christ will be our strength and our fortitude.

            When Israel moved out of Egypt, they had to travel through a dry and barren wilderness.  They were hungry.  They were thirsty.  They were tired.  They were oppressed by larger and established nations who would not let them pass through their territory.  Their exodus was difficult.  Yet, in their exodus, God provided their every need: food when they were hungry, water when they thirsted, clothing and sandals that never wore out for their tired feet and bodies, and victory over their oppressors.  Israel’s journey through the wilderness to the Promised Land was so difficult and strenuous that they could not have survived on their own personal strength; their journey was only possible when God was their strength. 

            The book of Exodus reminded the Israelites that God was sovereign and that God’s sovereignty was a good and comforting doctrine that quickened their faith, endowed history with meaning and purpose, a meaning and purpose that revealed God’s great plan for redemption that culminated at Calvary.  Furthermore, the book of Exodus revealed the human nature of Israel in response to God’s great and gracious blessings:  they murmured, they complained and they rebelled. 

            When we close the covers of our diary this afternoon, we will have concluded a chapter of our life.  Next Sunday will be our first entry in a new chapter.  Yet, even though we will begin a new chapter, we must always remember that we will not be beginning a new journey.  Our journey began ages ago when our parents, Adam and Eve, fell from the pleasant garden of God’s grace into the wastelands of sin and our journey will not end until our Lord Jesus returns to finish the redemption he began on the cross.  Every page in our diary, every chronicled step of our journey, needs to be replete with references, cross-references, and footnotes to Jesus redemption upon the cross.  If we are to chronicle any moments of faith, hope, love and joy in our history to come, we must vow with St. Paul to know nothing but Jesus Christ and him crucified (I Corinthians 2:2).  If our journey is to lead us into the arms of Jesus Christ, we must proclaim nothing and know nothing but Jesus Christ because it is only through the cross that our murmurings our transformed into worship, our complaints transformed into praise, our rebellion transformed into fealty and our filthy garments of sin changed into pure, spotless garments of righteousness. 

            Moving is difficult and I believe it is difficult because it is a snapshot of life.  Moving exposes the frailties of our earthly possessions, which so often break and shatter.  Moving exposes the frailties of our self-esteem and conscious, which depend too heavily upon our daily routines.  Moving exposes the frailty of our lives, as Blaise Pascal said, “Between us and heaven or hell there is only life, which is the frailest thing in the world.”[2]   Life is frail and we are not strong enough to survive the journey we have been called to undertake.  Therefore, just as Israel survived the Exodus only through God’s mercy and grace, so we will survive the frailties of life only through God’s mercy and grace which he generously gives us through Jesus Christ.  Thus, we must pray and pray daily that as we begin this new chapter in our journey, every page, every paragraph and every sentence will chronicle the lavish grace that God our Father has freely given through Jesus Christ, his crucified and risen Son.  If our lives, our diary, are a testimony to God’s grace, then we will be able to say a loud and hearty “Amen” in whatever this world may bring. 

[2] Blaise Pascal, Pensees #213.

Page last updated 01:09am, November 19, 2009