Author: jgarrison

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Two books on Pilgrimage

 Lisa Deam, 3000 Miles to Jesus: Pilgrimage as a Way of Life for Spiritual Seekers 

(Minneapolis Broadleaf Books, 2021), 211 pages including notes and a few drawings and maps

Early pilgrims

In the centuries between the crusades and the Reformation, there were many devout Christians who made pilgrimages. While Rome and Santiago de Compostela (the Way of Saint James) were the popular destinations, there were also hardy souls who attempted to make the trip to the Holy Lands. 

The journey to Jerusalem was hard and expensive. They traveled overland across Europe and climbed the Alps, in an era before guidebooks and maps. Without travel insurance and credit cards, they had to be careful as they made good targets for thieves. Once they reached Venice along the Italian coast, they bargained for a berth in a ship sailing for Joppa or another town along the Palestinian Coast.  It was not a plush cruise. No one served them umbrella drinks on the veranda. Instead, they were cramped in the bowels of a sailing ship for five or so weeks, eating dried bread meats and hoping they had enough fresh water. 

Once they arrived, they had to deal with customs. Muslims controlled the region and could friendly or not. Amongst these strangers, they had to hire guides to lead them to Jerusalem. Once they arrived, they had to pay a price for everything they did (In the centuries since Jesus, the Holy Lands had become a tourist trap).

Many had ecstatic experiences when walking the paths Jesus trod. They saw the signs. Some poured wine into embedded footprints that supposedly belonged to Jesus. On their knees, they would drink the wine (I suppose lapping it up with their tongues like a dog). Others were depressed. Jerusalem, 13 or more centuries after Christ, didn’t impress them. 

Deam’s pilgrims

Deam follows three such pilgrims. Margery Kempe was from England. She was a wife and the mother of twelve children. Yet, she found support to make the journey. Swiss friar Felix Fabri and Italian Pietro Casola are the other two pilgrims Deam’s focuses on. Deam also draws from other pilgrim accounts as well as the writings of those contemporary to the pilgrims, such as Walter Hilton and Dante Alighieri. In addition, she draws from modern theologians such as Eugene Peterson and Howard Thurman.

Recommendation

This is not a just a history book. The purpose is for the reader to realize how he or she is also a pilgrim in this life. While informed by historical pilgrims, this is essentially a devotional book. One of my complaints of the book is that there could have been more historical background and stories. But then, the book might have been less appealing as a devotional book and more for academia.  

I have often thought about leading a trip to the holy lands where, in addition to the Bible, I would draw from the writings of Mark Twain’s The Innocents Abroad. If I ever take that journey, I’ll add Deam’s book to the reading list and maybe the first hand account written by those who travelled there in the 13-15 centuries. Deam’s provides a bibliography of “medieval voices” that have been translated into English in the back the book.

Additional reading on pilgrimage

I have read a lot about pilgrimages over the years.  In addition to Twain’s The Innocents Abroad (I’d also suggest Roughing It and Following the Equator), I recommend Phil Cousineau, The Art of Pilgrimage (see below), Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking, Rolf Potts, Vagabonding, and the anonymous 19th Century Russian who wrote The Way of a Pilgrim and The Pilgrim Continues His Way. Deam mentions this last book, which was given to me by a Hindu friend from Malaysia.

Quotes:

“In the broad sense, a ‘pilgrim is one who is a stranger.'” Dante (11)

“Our pilgrimage on earth is an image of the glorious pilgrimage to the celestial city.” (17)

“Because Hilton had both secular and sacred vocations, he is the ideal guide for contemporary Christians on their journey of faith. He understood that some people are suited for religious live and others for vocations of the world, yet that all are called to a spiritual life of contemplation and prayer. (2-21)

“Whether en route to the physical or the interior Jerusalem, a pilgrim never walks alone. All need guide and companions for the journey.” (23)

“A paradox of pilgrimage,…, is that we are journeying toward a home we have not seen.”

“So much in life remains uncertain, but our destination does not.” (37)

“This practice of settling debt and writing a will-and indeed the whole enterprise of pilgrimage-flies in the face of our risk-averse culture.” (50)

“Old habits and ingrained ways of thinking tempt us to believe we are better off where we are (or were), even though Jesus beckons us to a better place.” (64)

“I am nothing; I have nothing; I desire nothing but the love of Jesus’ alone.” -Walter Hilton (68)

“‘We all long for [Eden], and we are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature at its best and least corrupted, it gentlest and most humane, is still soaked with the sense of exile.’ The grief that we feel is part of our history, a symptom of our shared humanity. And something would be desperately wrong if we did not long for our lost home.” -quote from Tolkien (121-2)

“Only when we are stripped of all that falsely shores us up can our soul stand naked before Jesus with a pure motive and clear vision. (138)

Phil Cousineau, The Art of Pilgrimage: The Seeker’s Guide to Making Travel Sacred 

(New York: MJF Books, 1998), 254 pages

I wrote this review in 2010 and am republishing it here.

This book makes a lot of sense to me.  Travel should be so much more than just sightseeing and crossing off places on our bucket lists of sites to see before we die. To me, it is instinctive to learn more about the places I travel in an attempt to connect with the “soul” of the land and the people. 

In this book, Cousineau draws upon a wealth of pilgrimage literature as he encourages his readers to be attentive in their travels. Cousineau seasons his book with stories and quotes that come from the breath of humanity.  He draws upon pilgrims of all ages. Most are religious, but not all. It seems there is an embedded need within our psyche to connect with something deeper. Included in the pilgrims reported on are visits to Jim Morrison’s grave and baseball fans who seek out Ty Cobb’s cleats. Cousineau is familiar with the writings of Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhist, and Hindu pilgrims, but he also is knowledgeable about native tribes and the legends of mythic journeys and what they have to tell us about pilgrimage.

What pilgrimage does to us


Pilgrimages change us. They can also bring political changes as Cousineau points to when writing about the “hill of crosses” in Lithuania.  The hill, the site of a Lithuania victory of Sweden, had been an important site for the country since the mid-19th Century. Crosses adored the hill, but after the Soviet take-over in 1917, they removed the crosses. Yet, people regularly replaced the crosses, often by those who travelled many miles and risked their lives. Finally, in 1985, the Soviets stopped bulldozing the crosses and a few years later, Lithuanian students began to protest for independence.  Looking back on his country’s long struggle, one Lithuanian commented on the importance of the Hill of Crosses.  “Just knowing that it was there made the fight for independence much easier.” (44-47)


Cousineau grew up in a family that traveled frequently.  His father felt that travel was good for the mind and his mother thought it was good for the soul. (xv)  Cousineau combines the two perspectives.“Pilgrimage is a journey that moves us from mindless to mindful, from soulless to soulful travel.” (xxiii) The chapters of the book follows a pilgrim’s path: the longing, the call, departure, the pilgrim’s way, the labyrinth, arrival, and returning. He speaks of the pilgrim’s lamp, the tower, the satchel, the well of refreshment, and the need to give gifts and make offerings. I recommend this book and include some quotes to tempt you to read it:

Quotes:


“If you truly want to know the secret of soulful travel, we need to believe that there is something scared waiting to be discovered in virtually every journey.”  (xxii)

Beauty is a ‘by-product of ordinary things,’” quote from Joseph Brodsky (22)

“Questions tune the soul…”  “Ask yourself what mystery is being guarded by your longing.” (24)
The tarot card for a pilgrim is “the fool.” (49)

“’It is not so much what you do,’ wrote Epictetus in his study of happiness, ‘it is how you do it.’” (92)

“The practice of soulful travel is to discover the overlapping point between history and every day life, the way to find the essence of every place…  Curiosity about the extraordinary in the ordinary moves the heart of the travel intent on seeing behind the veil of tourism.”  (121)

“Do not seek to follow the footsteps of the men of old, seek what they sought. –Matssuo Basho” (173)“…savored the melancholy beauty, what the Japanese call sabi, the ‘sigh of the moment’” (176)

A question for my readers

Have you ever taken a pilgrimage? How was it? If you have not taken one, would you be interested?

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Hebrews 9: The True Sanctuary

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
March 7, 2021
Hebrews 9 
 c2021

Taped at Bluemont Church on Friday, March 5, 2021

At the beginning of worship: 

So far, in the book of Hebrews, we have seen that Jesus is superior to everything. He tops angels and folks like Moses as well as the temple priests. He’s divine, having come from and returned to God’s heavenly throne.

Last week, the author returned to a previous topic, Jesus as High Priest. This week and next, we’ll see what this means in terms of the sanctuary and the need for a sacrifice. 

Journey to the holy lands 

This past week I read a book that was part devotional and part historical. Lisa Deam, a medieval historian, authored 3000 Miles to Jesus.[1] She follows several pilgrims to the Holy Lands in the 13th and 14th Centuries. 

Traveling to the Holy Lands was quite a journey in those days. Think about someone coming from England. They’d cross the channel and walk or ride a horse across France. They had the Alps to climb. Then they’d head to Venice, where they’d secure passage on a boat to the Holy Lands. 

During this era, it goes without saying, there were no plush cruises. No umbrella drinks on the veranda. Sea travel was tough. And then, once they arrived along the coast of Palestine, they had deal with customs and hire a guide. They usually rode a donkey to Jerusalem. At this time, the Holy Lands were under the control of Muslims, which also created challenges. 

It goes without saying that many died on this journey, but a many made it and they inspired others.  

These pilgrims in the medieval era put up with all kinds of hardship for an opportunity to walk where Jesus’ walked. Some of them had euphoric experiences in Jerusalem, others were disappointed. I can understand such disappointment. They had this hope of connecting in a tangible way to Jesus. But 12 or 13 centuries after Jesus, Palestine wasn’t what they expected. 

We are pilgrims

Deams, throughout this book, reminds her readers that our lives are a pilgrimage. We long for an encounter with the divine. But we have to have faith and realize that such an encounter may only occur in the next world. We do not live in a perfect world. We are not called to be citizens here. We are not called to set down roots for sooner or later, we’ll have to move on. Instead, we’re called to live out our pilgrimage, whatever shape our journeys might take, knowing that our eternal destination is within another kingdom.  Even the church is transitory.[2] It’s a vehicle to help us reconnect with God. 

Today, in our text, we’ll see that while there is a purpose in earthly sanctuaries (like this one), the perfect sanctuary where Jesus works is beyond the present.

After the reading of Scripture: 

I am nothing.
I have nothing.
I desire nothing except the love of Jesus alone. 

This mantra came from Walter Hilton, a 14th Century Augustine monk, who wrote what might have been the “Lonely Planet Travel Guide” on pilgrimages, had such things existed back then.[3]

I am nothing.
I have nothing.
I desire nothing except the love of Jesus alone.

Remember this mantra. How many of us live up to it? We only come to such faith by believing in the superiority of Jesus. Even then, it’s hard. But, sooner or later, our pilgrimage on this earth will come to an end and we’ll stand before the throne of God. At such a time, we’ll be naked. I’m not talking about the lack of clothes so much as being totally exposed. Our only hope will be in Jesus.

The old tabernacle 

In our passage today, we learn of a comparison between our earthly sanctuaries and the true sanctuary in heaven. When the covenant was made with Moses and the Hebrew people at Sinai, God gave them instruction on how to create a tabernacle.

This was one large tent. Portable, they could take it with them as they journeyed in the wilderness. The plans for this “tent-shrine”[4] is laid out in the 25th through the 27th chapters of Exodus. I encourage you to read through this at some point. The detail is exact. The type of wood to be used in construction is detailed. The “furniture” that occupied the tent, and the fabric that adorned the walls are specified. 

The design called for a curtain created out of blue, purple and crimson yarns and twisted fine linen. Woven into this curtain was a cherubin. It hung by golden hooks from a gold clad acacia wood rod, held up by silver posts.[5] Behind this was the “Holy of Holies,” which was only to be entered by the High Priest, once a year. 

An imperfect image of a perfect reality

But this tent/sanctuary was only an imperfect image of a perfect reality. That holy chamber, where earthly priests sought forgiveness for our sin, with dried blood of animals all around, wasn’t able to make them good or perfect. According to verse 7, its effect was only on unintentional sin. But the heavenly counterpart to the early tabernacle is able to provide, not a once-a-year cleansing, but eternal redemption because Christ himself offered his own blood for our behalf.

Now this doesn’t mean we shouldn’t strive not to sin because Christ has forgiven us. In the next chapter, our preacher will strongly condemn such thoughts.[6]

Thankfully, our hope is not in the tent of the first covenant, but in the new covenant. We need access to this truer tent, which Christ supplies. We also need to be aware that when we accept the first tent, the early one, to be the real tent, “our human hopes are misplaced.”[7] The tent, like the church, can become an idol. 

The Church

This passage has something to say to the church, of which we’re a part. Like the tent of the first covenant, the church we see on earth has been created by humans. It started with the Apostles being sent out by the resurrected Jesus to tell world of the good news. And it’s done a lot of good in the world, but our slate isn’t exactly perfect. Our ancestors fought wars over what Jesus meant by one statement or another. We are often quick to condemn those who don’t see things like we do.  Sadly, our churches often lack grace. 

We need to take ourselves less seriously. And we need to realize that salvation isn’t from the church itself. Jesus provides salvation. The church is just a messenger, and an imperfect one at that. However, our marching orders are important. The church is the vehicle Christ instituted through the disciples to continue his work in the world. 

The Church isn’t to be worshipped

So, while it is important for us to be in the church, we must not worship the church. We should acknowledge that there is no perfect church on the earth. This goes for Bluemont and Mayberry and all other churches in our neighborhood. 

Sadly, we don’t have to look very far to confirm the church’s imperfection. After all, look at all the major ministries that have shown us such truth: In the last few years, there’s been Mars Hill in Seattle, Willow Creek outside of Chicago, Hillsong in the northeast, Menlo Park out West, among many others. 

We need to realize that this side of glory, we’re never going to be perfect. And we need to be thankful that our salvation isn’t in our doing but in the atoning work of Jesus Christ. 

A longing for God

At best, the church gives people a longing for God. God’s book, the Bible, must be central. Our lives must be gracious and godly. If we can give people a taste of God, God’s Holy Spirit can take care of the rest. While our worship fails to live up to the heavenly glory we read about in Revelation,[8] that’s not a reason for us to give up. Instead, we help people have a small taste of what’s to come. We know Jesus has gone before us, pulling back that curtain that shielded us from coming into God’s presence.  

Baseball and being close to the action

Let me tell you a story. Baseball season is almost here. Spring training is underway. When I was a seminary student in Pittsburgh, I enjoyed going to the old Three Rivers Stadium and watching the Pirates. Wednesday night games were a favorite. If you were willing to sit up in the nosebleed section, where you actually had a good view of the whole field, it was only a buck. A buck to watch the Bucs.[9] This was back in the ‘80’s. 

One Saturday afternoon, I was willing to pay the big bucks. The Dean’s secretary and I were going on a date to a game. Back then, the Pirates were so bad, you didn’t have to buy tickets in advance. When I picked her up, she asked if I had tickets. “No,” I said. “We’ll get ‘em at the stadium.” She smiled and handed me two tickets. I looked down and couldn’t believe it. The seats were right behind home plate, just five rows up. These seats weren’t available to just anyone. I was shocked, humbled, and impressed. 

Her brother, who was in management at the William Penn hotel in downtown Pittsburgh, heard we were going to the game. Since the hotel had these seats reserved for the season, and nobody had claimed them, he gave them to us. It was exciting to be brought so close to the action. 

As a church we are to bring people closer to God. Just as I was brought close to the action that Saturday in Pittsburgh, in our own limited ways, we are to help people come closer to Jesus. But we will still remain separated until that time, to continue with this metaphor, when we find ourselves not just inside the park but on the field with Jesus.  

Conclusion

So, don’t worry that your church is not perfect. Jesus will take care of it. The same goes with us. Don’t worry that you’re imperfect. Jesus will take care of that, too. Of course, this doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to be better. Yes, we are all to strive to be better while we depend on the love of Jesus. For in the end, when our pilgrimage is over, we must strand there exposed before the throne. Hopefully, at such a time, we can say (can you say it with me?):

I am nothing.
I have nothing.
I desire nothing except the love of Jesus alone.  Amen. 

[1] Lisa Deam, 3000 Miles to Jesus: Pilgrimage as a Way of Life for Spiritual Seekers (Minneapolis: Broadleaf Books, 2021). 

[2] See Revelation 21:22. There is no need for a temple in the New Jerusalem with the presence of God. 

[3] Deams, 20, 68.

[4] The term “tent-shrine” is used in the footnotes for this passage in The New Interpreter’s Bible: NRSV. 

[5] Exodus 26:15-37. 

[6] See Hebrews 10:26. See also Hebrews 6:4-6 and Luke Timothy Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary (Louisville: WJK, 2006), 223. 

[7] Johnson, 225. 

[8] See especially Revelation 7:9-17.

[9] The nickname for the Pirates, “Bucs,” is shortened from Buccaneer.

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Haw River: a short memoir and a book review

Haw River 1975

I pause, standing in the door of the gas station at the edge of Pittsboro, a Coke in one hand and a pack of peanuts in the other. Ripping open the peanuts with my teeth, I shake a few from the bag into my mouth, chasing it with a swig from the bottle as I look out into a gray and dreary February day. 

A sheriff deputy pulls up in his cruiser. I watch as he jumps out of his car, fitting his wide brim hat covered with a plastic rain protection on his head. He heads toward our cars, where my Uncle Larry checks the rope tie-downs on his canoe. 

Stepping out, the screen door slams shut behind me. Dodging mud puddles in the pavement, I head over toward our vehicles to see that the deputy wants.  

“Y’all boys ain’t going to run that river today, are you?” he asks.  

We plan on it,” Larry answers.    

“That ain’t a good idea. We’ve gotten a lot of rain and that river’s angry.”

“We’ll check the gauge before we put in,” Larry assures him. 

 “Well, if y’all boys go down that river, I ain’t gonna go lookin’ for you.” 

“We’re not asking you to,” Larry responds.

The deputy looks at the canoes on the two cars, then looks back at the two of us. Patting his pistol on his hip, he continues, “I ought to save y’all boys lives and shoot some holes in those canoes.” 

I envision him drawing his gun like a deputy from Dodge City, and firing from his hip, ruining my prize possession. Larry wastes no time, responding immediately, “Please sir, don’t do that.”

Paddling the Black River in the Spring of 1975 (photo by Donald McKenzie)

It’d been raining for days and is still drizzling. My dad and brother leave the store and join Larry and I as the deputy leaves. We discuss his concerns. None of us have paddled this river, but Larry has friends who have been down it. He says that as long as the river is at less than 6 inches on the gauge at the bridge, we should be okay. We drive over, parking along the edge of the highway and walk down under the bridge. The river is muddy and shrouded with fog. The waves of the water rushing pass the bridge abutment to which the gauge is attached are above the three foot mark. We decide to not to run the Haw.  

Running the Haw

Two years later, my brother, uncle and I would run the Haw River and would do it many more times, but always in a kayak.  It was an exciting in a closed boat when the water was three feet on the gauge. At the first big rapid, Gabriel’s Bend, the river flowed hard into a rock wall and made a ninety degree turn to the left. In high water, one would have to punch through an eight foot  standing wave as soon as the left turn was executed, an obstacle that would have swamped and swallowed an open canoe.

What we did that day…

On this day, in 1975, at a time there were few river guides, we looked at a map and decided to run a section of the Rocky River which paralleled the Haw about a dozen miles to the south.  We had no idea as to what we’d face, but the river didn’t look nearly as angry as the Haw.  We made quick time out of the six or eight mile run. It was evident we could not have made the run at a lower level as there were many rock gardens where the river, even at this height, was only six inches deep. 

Toward the end of the run, in sight of the 15-501 bridge, we had to cut across a rapid in order to stay in the main channel.  I was in the bow and my dad, who’d never paddled fast water, was in the stern. Suddenly the boat stopped, and water poured in.  I looked back at Dad and he was standing in the middle of the river, in knee deep water, holding the boat. He tried to crawl back in, but as he did, I was flipped out.  We were both floating through the rapid.  I turned around so I was facing down river and pulled my legs up, holding tight to my paddle. It was quite chilly, but at the bottom of the rapid, we were able to beach and dump the water from the boat. 

Dad and I paddled the last couple hundred yards in humbled disgrace. 

Coming off the Waccamaw River, 1981 (Photo by Philip Morgan)
I haven’t found my photos of the Haw, yet. There were never very many in that pre-digital age.

Down Along the Haw

Anne Melyn Cassebaum, Down Along the Haw: The History of a North Carolina River (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2011), 229 pages including maps, photos, notes and index. 

When I learned there was a book on the Haw River, it went on my to-be-read list. Cassebaum is a professor emerita at Elon University (which I still thought was a college), where she taught environmental and American literature along with writing.  In this book, she explores the Haw River from many different viewpoints. 

The history of the river

The Haw is an old river that cuts through the rock of a wide fall line. Native Americans fished in the river. Early colonists set up mills along the river and its tributaries. The river plays a role in the ending of the Revolution. Because it was at flood stage during the closing days of the Civil War, it formed a natural boundary between Union and Confederate lines. In the years after the Civil war, the river became home for a large number of textile mills. During this time, the river would take on the hue of the fabric being dyed. It was a polluted mess. After the Clean Water Act of1972, the river slowly cleaned itself. In the 70s, kayakers and canoers began to flock to its waters (see my above piece on my experience on the Haw). Then, in the 80s, with the closing of the B. Everett Jordan dam, named for a US Senator from North Carolina who owned a textile mill along the Haw, the lower part of the Hall was submerged into Jordan Lake.

Other topics explored

In this book, Cassabaum explores the full length of the river, from its headwaters to the confluence with the Deep River to form the Cape Fear. She covers both human and natural history, along with inserting her own stories of paddling and exploring the river. We meet authors who connections to the river’s headwaters including Catholic priest and environmentalist, Thomas Berry, and slave poet, George Moses Horton. Tales of paranormal experiences and haunted islands are shared. We learn of how the river has been “cleaned up” but how threats continue as lawns and agricultural lands pump more and more nutrients into the waters of the Haw. Having last paddled the Haw in the early 1980s, before the floodgates of the B. Everett Jordan dam were closed, I was glad to know that one of my favorite rapids (Gabriel’s Bend) was still available for paddling. Sadly, the Pipeline has long been flooded by the waters of Jordan Lake. 

Recommendation

I appreciated the opportunity to learn more about my home state and a river I once knew. For anyone interested in rivers or North Carolina history, check this book out.

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The New Covenant

Jeff Garrison  
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
February 28, 2021
Hebrews 8 
c2021

Recorded at Mayberry Church on Friday, February 26, 2021

At the beginning of worship

Today, as we’re continuing our work through the book of Hebrews, the author turns toward a topic he mentioned in the previous chapter: a new covenant. A covenant is a contract between two parties, in this case, between God and humanity. 

The Covenant of Works

The author of Hebrews also speaks of the earlier covenant, one of works, made with Moses and the Hebrew people at Sinai. The covenant of works required obedience. But it didn’t work. The Israelites couldn’t live up to the covenant. As the Westminster Standards states, “God freely offered a second covenant, the covenant of grace.” Even while we’re in sin, God offers us life and salvation. Our requirement is that we respond with faith in Jesus Christ.[1]

The Covenant of Grace

In the covenant of grace, we witness God’s good intention for humanity. God provides a way for us to reconnect to our Creator and restore the relationship that was broken at the fall. Such an act by a gracious God fulfills John 3:16, “for God so loved the world.” Think back to the image I used two weeks ago. God has us on belay. Even if we fall off the cliff, God holds the rope. 

Of course, a covenant requires the approval of both parties. God offers us a covenant, but do we accept this offer? Do we agree with the terms that we trust fully and only in Jesus Christ? Today, our scripture will be Hebrews 8.

After reading the scripture: Trying to impress others

How often do we do things to earn the approval of others?  There may be a few people who are so disconnected from what other people think who don’t, at least occasionally, try to earn the approval of others. But most of us are like Charlie Brown, trying to get the attention of the Little Red-Haired Girl. 

Sometimes we do silly and stupid things. The kid in school who gets in trouble as a way to be seen by a girl or get a laugh from friends. Who would do that? These kinds of attempts to earn approval are a gold mind for sitcoms and humorous movies. It rings true. We’ve all been there. 

Trying to impress God

On the one hand, it would be nice if we spent such energy trying to impress God. After all, God has created us with great potential. We should want to make something out of that potential. In a way, if we do, we have something to give back to the Almighty. But that’s the wrong approach. 

Let me tell you a story. When I was working for the Boy Scouts in Eastern North Carolina, we were trying to create more support for the program within the African American community. The funeral director in this town was a leader of that community and I approached him for help. Beyond the funeral home, he’d gotten Amway and saw me as a potential target for another member of his team. He swore to me that once he made a million dollars, he’d send every kid in this community to camp. I quickly realized I was not going to change his mind. 

The idea that we have to “make it” to be able to give back is flawed. First of all, we will never make it which is why there are so few self-proclaimed rich people in America. We will always be pushing for more and more. 

We have to learn to use what we have. When it comes to impressing God, it’s not about making and sacrificing a big fortune. Instead, as we’re told by the prophet Micah, God wants us to do justice, love kindness and to walk humbly with him.[2]

We can’t impress God

On the other hand, instead of trying to impress the Almighty, we should know we can’t impress God. To attempt to impress God is the wrong way to approach the being that knows all and sees all. Instead, our approach to God has to be with humility, gratitude, and kindness, not just toward God, but to those whom God has created. 

It’s okay, we have Jesus

Furthermore, we don’t have to impress God. We have a high priest who, as Tom Long describes, “is placed on the heavenly altar, once and for all, not only for his life but—astonishingly—ours, too.” Jesus “gathers up our hunger for approval and lived a life truly pleasing to God.”[3]Jesus takes us off the hook for having to impress God. 

As the Preacher of Hebrews proclaims, everything about Jesus is superior to what we can do. Not only does Jesus sit “at the right hand of the throne of Majesty in the heavens,” he ministers in a sanctuary that is greater than what we could have constructed. 

Today’s text

In the opening of today’s passage, the Preacher briefly goes over what he has just concluded teaching in the previous chapter. Jesus wouldn’t have been a priest on earth as we saw last week.[4] His ministry is more excellent than that. Earthly priest, who at the time labored in the temple, were mortals and limited in what they could do. They were bound by the old covenant, the covenant of works, which means that over and over again they’d have to offer sacrifice for sin. There were flaws in the first covenant. We, the human race, couldn’t hold up our end of the bargain!  


New Covenant grounded in the Old Testament

So, Jesus offers a new covenant.  But this covenant isn’t one out of thin air. The Preacher quotes a passage from Jeremiah which shows this new covenant has long been a part of God’s plan.[5]

I find a lot of meaning on these words from Jeremiah. Years ago, in an article I wrote for the Presbyterian Outlook, back when our nation battled over having the 10 Commandments posted on public property, I referred to this passage. If we let God write his law upon our hearts and instill them within our minds, no one can take them away. 

Don’t make an idol out of the law

Furthermore, by internalizing the law, we can be constantly reminded of what God wants from us. Otherwise, we just are reminded by this when we look at a chiseled granite monument.[6] We’re not to make an idol out of the law, as it happened at times with Israel. The law is to be living internally within us. 

Also, a new relationship with God

But the greatest promise in Jeremiah’s word isn’t about the law, but a new relationship with God. Because of the work of Jesus, we can know God. It’s not a matter of teaching us what to do that is important, but us having intimate knowledge of God. Then, we can experience God’s mercy and forgiveness. Then we can live in a way that’s honorable, just, and kind. This new promised covenant provides us the freedom to live up to our full God-given potential. When we accept this covenant, we no longer need to fear the vengeance of God.

What we have with this new covenant is a shift in how God relates to the human race. And the good news is that the whole tragic history of the human race, the sin and shame, the guilt, the broken promises and the torn relationships are not the last word. In this new covenant, God promises a new day of mercy.[7] As one theologian sums up this chapter, “The age of the prophets and law is past; the age of the Son is here.[8]

What were the problem with the old covenant

Let me say a little about the old covenant. It’s easy for us to walk away and to think there was something wrong with it. The only wrong thing with the old covenant was our inability to abide by it! The cliché from a Pogo comic, “we have met the enemy and he is us,” once again rings true.

But the old covenant wasn’t bad. As Scripture points out, the new rises out of the old.[9] We shouldn’t condemn the old. In fact, God’s law (which was revealed in the old covenant) helps us in several ways. The law shows us our need for a Savior. And once we accept the salvific work of Jesus, the law shows us how we are to live in a way that’s pleasing to God.[10]

What does it mean to live in the new covenant?

So, we give thanks for both covenants as we live into the new. This covenant provides us freedom to grow in Christ. To grow in Christ means that our hearts are tenderized so that we are gentle and gracious, loving and kind. In other words, we are Christ-like. And our lives will bring him glory and praise. Amen.

[1] Presbyterian Church USA, “Westminster Confession of Faith,” Chapter 8. See Book of Confessions, 6:037-039.  The Westminster Confession refers to the first covenant being with Adam, while the author of Hebrews is referring to the covenant made after the Hebrew people left Egypt and were in Sinai. 

[2] Micah 6:8.

[3] Thomas Long, Hebrews (Louisville, JKP, 1997), 90.

[4] See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/02/hebrews-71-22-christ-as-high-priest-part-2/

[5] The quote is from Jeremiah 31:31-34. Hebrews is quoting from the Greek Old Testament (the Septuagint). See Long, 92. For a difference between the Septuagint and the Hebrew text, see Luke Timothy Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 2006), 206-207. 

[6] See Jeff Garrison, “What Commandments Mean Is More Important than a Slab of Granite,” The Presbyterian Outlook, September 29, 2003.

[7] Long, 92. 

[8] F. F. Bruce (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1964), 179.

[9] See Presbyterian Church USA, Book of Confessions, Second Helvetic Confession, XII, “The Law of God” (5.080-5.085)

[10] John Calvin speaks of three uses of the law: 1. Brings us to repentance, 2. Helps our sanctification by showing us what’s pleasing to God, and 3. The fear of it keeps the reprobate from becoming worse and being a menace to society. 

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Walking up Laurel Fork Road

The creek paralleling Laurel Fork Road (take a few weeks ago)

The sun drops below the hills.
It’s time to leave the broad waters of Laurel Fork
and follow the sounds of rushing water 
paralleling the muddy dirt road lined with mountain laurel. 

Reaching Hereford Road,
the mare in the pasture looks up from her hay
and gaits over to the fence. 
I rub her head and she presses tight against my hand,

but only for moment as the first stars appear. 
I lengthen my stride, 
and pass the intersection with Dusty Trail. 
I start the steep climb,   

following hairpin curves out of the darken hollow.
where shadows of bare tree limbs
illuminated by a waxing gibbous moon,
slouch across the road like arthritic fingers.

my attempt to capture a moon shadow

The afternoon wind has somewhat settled,
yet I hear the squeak of a widow maker in the woods,
and a truck in the distance, 
grinding gears as it climbs Highway 58

Halfway up, the enchanting sound of water
Setting out on a journey propelled by gravity, 
That begins in the hillside springs, and destined, eventually, 
for the Gulf, disappears. 

Then the road levels and the canopy opens
Bright Sirius of Canis Major appear high overhead, 
the dog of the winter sky, jumping with joy,  
as he follows his master, Orion, into spring. 

To the west, just a tinge of red remains of the fading day.
Along the horizon, the lights of homes perched on hills,
appear to twinkle like stars 
when watched through the trees while walking.

Picking up my pace,
I pass the Primitive Baptist Church,
the old one room school,
Bear Creek Road and the cemeteries. 

A few minutes later, I’m home.
Opening the door, into the light and warmth,
my own dog, despite nursing a sore leg,
jumps with joy. jg 2-23-2021 

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About This Life

Barry Lopez, About This Life: Journeys on the Threshold of Memory (New York: Random House/Vintage Books, 1999), 273 pages. 

This is a wonderful collection of essays.  I listened to an abridged edition as well as read the essays. The Audible version of the book was wonderful because the late Lopez read his work. 

The collection (in the book and on audible) begins with a memoir essay titled “A Voice.” In this wonderful piece, Barry tells the story of his young life, from his early years in New York, to moving and living much of his school years in California, and then back to New York for a few years before he headed off to Notre Dame. During this time, Barry experienced the world (often through his mother’s husbands and boyfriends). He even gets a first-hand view (although a somewhat skewed view) of what the writing life is about as he meets John Steinbeck at a summer camp. Steinbeck’s boys were at the same camp. I came away with the appreciation that Lopez never lost his childhood curiosity and these early experiences helped him develop a voice that has made him a beloved storyteller. This is the second book I’ve read of Lopez. Many years ago, I read River Notes. 

One of the unifying themes running through these essays is the journey. While many of the essays highlight travels to faraway places (Hokkaido, the Arctic, Antarctica, Galapagos), others focus on the journey itself. In “Flight,” he jets around as a passenger on air freight planes while collecting information for a story. One day in Asia, the next Europe or South Africa, and then he’s back in the States. The whirlwind of travel informs the reader about modern commerce, but we also see how Lopez was intensely interested in everything, from walking the streets of Seoul in the early morning hours to learning from the pilots. 

The essay “Apologia,” focuses on bits of travel around the United States as he stops to remove dead animals from the highway. This is not just a good deed as he has interest in each of the animals. 

In “Speed,” he drives his brother’s Corvette from Chicago to the Amish Country of Northern Indiana, taking a friend who is scouting out locations to film a documentary. But the shooting location is a side-story. The main story centers on driving this muscle car on rural backroads. I found it intriguing that one known as an environmental writer would enjoy speeding in a Corvette, but then remembered stories of Edward Abbey tossing beer cans out of the window of this truck. 

The essay, “Murder” finds Lopez driving from Sante Fe to a summer job in Wyoming. In Moab, Utah, he meets a woman who asks him to kill her husband. He quickly flees, racing through the sagebrush of the America West. 

Another common theme About This Life are the skills displayed by others. Whether it is the building and flying of airplanes in “Flight,” or the firing of pottery in a dragon kiln in “Effleurage: The Stroke of Fire,” or the gracious naturalist author in Hokkaido, Lopez appreciates talent. He also is constantly aware of his natural setting, whether it’s hearing the occasional “staccato cry of a pileated woodpecker” or the change in the air in the summer of ’76 in New York. As the nation celebrated the bicentennial, his mother was dying.  Lopez always catches the details.

“The American Geographies” was my favorite essay in the collection. Part incitement of our lack of knowledge of geographies, Lopez acknowledges the “local nature” of geography. Few people have the time or opportunity to full appreciate the diversity of America’s landscape. He invites us to be more intimate with our surroundings, knowing the geology and the natural world from firsthand experience. 

Now I want to pull River Notes off the bookcase and reread it along with other books by Lopez. 

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Hebrews 7:1-22, Christ as High Priest, part 2

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
February 21, 2021
Hebrews 7:1-22
c2021

Recorded at Bluemont Church on Friday, Feb. 19, 2021

Thoughts at the beginning of worship

Today as we continue working through the Book of Hebrews, I want to get off on the right foot and remind you of the doctrine of Total Depravity. There’s no place better to start than at the bottom. We can work our way up. This doctrine of the Reformed Tradition helps us understand our need for a High Priest. 

I’m reminded of the old theologian who had enough humility to thank God for the doctrine of total depravity. His students were shocked, especially when he acknowledged it to be the only doctrine of the church he could admit to having lived up to. 

We are flawed with sin which breaks our relationship with our Creator. We need of someone to plea our case and represent us before God, the best advocate we can find. That’s why it’s good to have Jesus as our High Priest. Think of Jesus as our lead counsel in a high-profile legal proceeding.  

What is Total Depravity?

That said, the doctrine of total depravity doesn’t mean we’re as bad as we can be. Sadly, we can always be worse as is often demonstrated. What this doctrine means that sin has tainted everything in our lives and world.

Paul, in his letter to the Romans, acknowledges this when he speaks of creation itself groaning from the bondage and decay it’s under because of sin.[1] Our only hope to get out of the mess we’re in is to have a Savior like Jesus. Jesus pulls us up out of the muck, pleas our case before God, and covers us with his own righteousness. This sums up the message of Hebrews. It sums up the gospel. Our faith is all about Jesus. We trust in him. We follow him. 

Insight into Hebrews

In today’s text we learn about several things which have already introduced. 

Melchizedek

First, we have this dude named Melchizedek, a mysterious figure who takes up a few verses in Genesis. He also appears once in the Psalms.[2]That’s all we know about him until we get to Hebrews.[3]

Perhaps because much of Melchizedek’s history is shrouded in the past, he’s an intriguing character. We know from literature of the New Testament era, Melchizedek was frequently mentioned in Jewish rabbinical teachings.[4] This means, those who first heard this message, would likely to have been familiar with him. In Hebrews 7, the author spends a third of the chapter writing about old Mel. But even here, this isn’t a chapter about Mel. The author wants to exalt Jesus and Mel becomes an archetype for Jesus’ priesthood.


The second theme already introduced to us earlier in this book is Jesus’ role as a high priest (Click here to read the first sermon on this topic). We might recall that the author mentioned this earlier (in the 4th chapter[5]). But the topic was lightly covered. Think of it like drinking milk[6]. Now he develops this role of Jesus more fully. He’s grilling steak. We’re getting into the solid food, now.

High Priest

Today we’re looking at the first two-thirds of Chapter Chapter 7. I’m going to read the text from The Message translation, to give you a new way to hear this passage. I would encourage you to listen to it being read. If you think about it, Scripture was first heard as most people couldn’t read. So, listen. As we get into the text, use you Bibles or the sheets in the bulletin to follow along.   

Click here to read Hebrews 8:1-22 (The Message)

After the Reading of Scripture

One day, Calvin (the boy who used to be in the comic strips) stood before a mirror. Wearing only underpants, he admires his physique. Pumping his biceps, he proclaims, “Made in God’s own image, yes sir!” Hobbes, lounging on the floor, looks up and mutters, “God must have a good sense of humor. 

I like Hobbes. He keeps us from taking ourselves too seriously. The truth is, although created in God’s image, we have digressed from God’s original intention.  Thankfully, God provides a way for the stain of sin to be removed through the saving work of Jesus Christ.

Christ: Prophet, Priest, & King

As I’ve shared before, the church teaches that Christ has three positions: Prophet, Priest, and King.[7] As King, he has ultimate authority over our lives and the world. The other two positions, Prophet and Priest, complement each other. 

Think of it this way. The prophet is like God’s transmitter, broadcasting God’s word to the people. The priest is like God’s receiver, collecting the people’s concern to present to God. As prophet and priest, Jesus is like a transceiver, a radio that does both functions. Today our focus is on Jesus as priest.

Jesus as High Priest

As I pointed out at the beginning, this is the second time the Preacher in Hebrews delves into the role of the High Priest. On January 31, the sermon you had to watch or read online because of the snowstorm we were experiencing, I spoke about how as High Priest, Jesus was our advocate. Because he’s lived among us, he knows our weaknesses and identifies with us. 

The Non-Linear Nature of Hebrews 

As we’ve already heard about Jesus as High Priest, let me say more about the structure of Hebrews. The author often introduces a subject, sometime even deals with it on one level, then returns to it later for a more detailed treatment. 

We see this at the end of today’s passage with the mention of a better covenant. But the author doesn’t pick up this theme until the next chapter. This scattered style can drive those of us educated in the West crazy. We’re used to linear arguments. This book, to us, seems scattered. One theologian writing on Hebrews makes this useful analogy:

Hebrews has been compared to an intricate crocheted piece which picks up a new thread again and again, but then carries all the threads through the piece, weaving them into the pattern. Thus, to take hold of one thread is to have hold of the whole piece. Those schooled in the ways of Western literature and seeking an ordered progression of ideas will seek in vain in Hebrews. What is always true of the Bible is emphatically true here: texts must be read in context.”[8].  

Old Testament background

To fully understand Christ’s role as our High Priest, we must spend some time in the Old Testament and grasp what the priesthood meant to the Hebrew people. We almost get the idea that someone spoke during this sermon, asking how Jesus could be a High Priest. After all, Jesus was from the tribe of Judah. The priests were Levites (which, by the way, had nothing to do with wearing jeans).

The Levites received the assignment of all priestly functions for Israel.[9] So, Jesus, who was not from the Levite clan, the preacher insists, belongs to a higher priesthood. This is where King Melchizedek comes in. He was identified in Genesis as a priest of the God Most High.[10]  

Melchizedek’s role

Melchizedek becomes an archetype for Jesus’ priestly role for several reasons. First of all, he received a tithe from Abraham, a tenth of the spoils of war that Abraham had collected after he had released Lot and his family who were hostages of war. Second, the author points out Melchizedek’s name, which implies righteousness. And his city is named for peace. Peace and righteousness are attributes of Jesus. And he notes that he has no genealogy. 

You know, genealogy is important in Scripture. Even Jesus, at the beginning of Matthew’s gospel, has a genealogy.[11] This may seem to conflict with what we are told in Hebrews. But the preacher in Hebrews, at this point, is focusing on the divinity of Christ. He’s already made the case for the timeliness of Jesus, who was at creation.[12] We have seen throughout this book how Jesus leaves heaven and comes to earth and then returns, which emphasizes his eternal reign, instead of his life as his earthly son of Mary and Joseph. 

The role of the tithe 

Interestingly, the preacher in Hebrews even shows how this priesthood of Melchizedek is superior to the Levite priesthood because through Abraham, Levi gave a tithe to Melchizedek. We may see this as a stretch. Levi’s father is Jacob, which makes Abraham his great-grandfather. In other words, Levi won’t be born for a couple of generations. But since he comes from Abraham’s line of descendants, the author makes the case that Levi was in Abraham’s loins.  

Limitation of Levite Priests

The second reason for the superiority of Christ’s priesthood is the limitations of the Levite priests. They die and have to be replace. They are sinful and have to make extra sacrifices for their own sins before they can take care of others. But Jesus, as our High Priest, is eternal and sinless. He can focus on our needs. 

What this has to do with us:

Sooner or later, we’re all going to die and will have to answer for our lives and what we’ve done with them. We have a choice. We can defend ourselves, but you know the old adage, “A man who is his own lawyer has a fool for a client.” 

Or, we can try to find some ambulance chaser, but remember, they’re only in for the money. They won’t have a reason to help us after death. Our only hope is to accept the gracious offer of the best counselor available. We let Jesus him defend us with his own righteousness. His offer is the only one that makes sense. 

Let us pray:

Almighty God, we know we are sinful. Sin has crept into our world and taints our lives. Unable to pull ourselves out of this state, we depend on Jesus Christ, our lead counsel, our High Priest, who covers us with his righteousness. Freed of sin, help us to we live for him. Amen. 

[1] Romans 8:22.

[2] See Genesis 14:17-20 and Psalms 109:4. 

[3] He’s already been introduced. See Hebrews 5:6, 5:10 and 6:20.

[4] Luke Timothy Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary (Louisville, WJKP, 2006), 181-183. In Excursus 4, Johnson provides detail into the Jewish writings on Melchizedek. 

[5] See Hebrews 4:14-5:6. 

[6] See Hebrews 5:12-13. 

[7] Westminster Confession 8.1, Westminster Larger Catechism questions 41-45,  Westminster Shorter Catechism questions 23-26.

[8] Stanley N. Olson, “Wandering But Not Lost,” Word and World, 5/4 (1985) St. Paul, MN: Luther Seminary, page 429.  Seehttp://wordandworld.luthersem.edu/content/pdfs/5-4_Gender/5-4_Olson.pdf

[9] Numbers 3:5-13.

[10] Genesis 14:18 (and this reference to the God Most High occurs twice again in this short passage about Melchizedek. 

[11] Matthew 1:1-17.

[12] Hebrews 1:2

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The Magpie Crags

Last week, I wrote about my last day in Korea. This week, I’m resurrecting another story about that wonderful trip. I had taken a bus from Seoul to Wonju early on Sunday morning. Seung Hwan met me at the bus station. I preached to his congregation at the medical college in Wonju, then we spent the afternoon with a number of clergy in the area. One, I remember, was much older than us and had fled from the north before the Korean War. That evening I stayed in a retreat center east of Wonju.

That’s me with Seung Hwan and family

Monday morning, 4 AM

The sounds of the bell tolling down off the mountainside wake me. I turn on my flashlight. It’s 4 A.M. For a few moments, I lay on my back, the warmth of the floor soothing my body. Seung Hwan had told me the floor would stay warm throughout the night. I had my doubts, but it’s still warm even though when I sit up, the air above me is quite chilly. The caretaker had built a small fire with just a half dozen pieces of split wood in the hearth under the flooring late yesterday afternoon. And now, 12 hours later, long after the coals have died out, the floor retains the heat.  

I pull on socks and my pants and thrown on a coat. Stepping out of the sleeping room, I slide on my boots in the bathroom. I don’t lace them up. While I don’t plan to be gone long, I want to be outdoors. The air is cold. My breath, when I exhale, appears as smoke. I walk over to a ledge in front the lodge, hoping my movement will ward off the chill. In the distance I hear a train making its way through the valley. Wonju lies to the west, still sleeping.  The sky is clear, the rain and snow of the day before has moved out. 

Orion stands, perched high above Wonju, just above the western horizon. I make out several other winter constellations setting in the west before I turn and look toward where the sound from where the bell tolled. The mountain is dark; it’s a couple of hours to dawn. I imagine the priest at the temple, in the cold darkness of morning, getting up daily for their prayers. I, on the other hand, am ready to get back in my warm bed. Sleeping on the floor has never been this good. My bed is on the floor, on top of a rice matt and between two thick quilts. I crawl in. It’s still warm. Immediately, I fall back asleep, only to awake when the sun pierces through a small window.

Inside the sleeping room at the lodge

In Wonju, Korea

I am on a two-week trip through South Korea. Yesterday, I had preached in Seung Hwan’s church at the Medical College.

He’d arranged for me to stay in this retreat lodge located just out of town, up in the foothills of the mountains. He’d given me the option of staying in a western hotel or traditional style lodging. I chose the traditional.

There are only a few others staying here, and none of them seems to speak English. We’re each assigned our own quarters consisting of a small bathroom with a toilet and sink attached a raised sleeping room. There are showers in the main lodge. There are no beds. The raised room has low ceilings, barely six feet high. The walls are mud. The floor is also mud with, I presume, slate or some kind of rock underneath. In the front of each sleeping chamber is a hearth. The fire in this hearth, which runs under the sleeping room, heats the floor. Once warm, the floor maintains its heat through the night.  

Catching a bit of the Superbowl 

Seung Hwan arrives shortly after daybreak. We have breakfast. It’s Monday morning and as we eat, we catch a bit of the Superbowl being played back in the States. St. Louis is playing Tennessee at the Georgia Dome. I try to explain the game to him. When it is over, we head out. We have a long climb ahead in Ch’iaksan National Park. We drive to the south end of the park, leave the car behind. Our packs contain heavy coats and crampons. 

The Climb 

We begin our climb on a dirt two track road. While the cities have modernized, rural Korea doesn’t appear to have changed much in centuries. We pass several small farms. Chickens run loose and dogs are penned behind the homes. After a few kilometers, the dirt road ends. We begin climbing a small path up into the mountains. The climb is steep, and we often have to stop and catch our breaths. Soon, the dirt and mud give way to packed snow and ice. We strap crampons onto our boots and continue climbing. It’s a long way up. Occasionally we hear trains making their way through the valley. There is a circle tunnel just south of us where the train makes a loop as it climbs into the mountains. There are few birds, but its winter. Although these are the Magpie Crags, I don’t see any magpies.

We take a break and eat lunch at a spring located below Sangwona Temple. Seung Hwan explains that pilgrims stopped here to bath and purify themselves before going to the temple to pray. The water is cold and refreshing. The wind comes up. We both pull on heavy coats, keeping in them on for the final climb.

The Temple

The temple appears to be deserted, although it’s well-kept. We see only one monk, walking away. The most notable feature of the grounds is the bell. Cast out of bronze, it’s as tall as me and mounted on the side of a ledge that looks out to the South. A large log, suspended from two chains, is used to strike the bell. The monks have taken precautions and have padlocked the bell so that tourist like us won’t ring it at an inappropriate time. I ask Seung Hwan if this is the bell I heard in the morning. “Probably not,” he said. “There are many temples in these mountains.” The bell I heard most likely was from the Ipsoksa Temple, located on the flanks of Mount Pinobong.  

We take our shoes off and go inside the temple area. Several beautifully cast statues of Buddha are on display. Although we’re both Presbyterian, we are respectful and reverent. There is a holy aura about the place. I could stay here a long time, but we don’t want to be caught out in the dark.. Going down is easy. The spikes on our boots hold our feet on the icy spots. As we walk, I ask Seung Hwan about the temple and its bell. This is rugged country; it took a Herculean effort to build such a temple. I can’t imagine hauling the statues and wonderful bell up this incline.

The temple grounds

The Legend of the Magpies 

Seung Hwan tells me the temple was built late in the Shilla Dynasty, at a time when Confucianism was taking root in Korea. Soon thereafter, under the Yi Dynasty, Buddhism was seen as an enemy of the people. Many of the temples were closed due to the lack of priests. Then he tells me a story. 

Once Confucianism became entrenched in Korea, anyone desiring in a government position had to take a national exam at the capital. One day, a man passed along the mountains in which we’d been climbing, heading to take the exam. A kind man, as he made his through the valley in the shadow of the mountain we’d been climbing, he heard a bird cry for help. Looking around, he saw a snake squeezing the bird that would soon be its dinner. Feeling compassion for the bird, the man shot an arrow into the snake, killing it but freeing the bird.

Shortly afterwards, as it was getting late, the man came to a home. He knocked on the door and a beautiful woman answered. He asked for lodging and she agreed. She even prepared him a wonderful dinner. But after dinner, the woman turned into a snake and wrapped herself around the man, telling him that he’d killed her husband and now she was going to do the same to him. He begged for his life and the snake, playing with the man, said that if the bell rings three times before dawn, he’ll be spared. Otherwise, she’ll kill him in the morning. 

This was a cruel reprieve. Both the snake and the man knew there were no monks living in the mountains to ring the bell. So, the man spent the night embraced by the snake, waiting for a fateful sunrise. But right before dawn, the man and the snake were surprised to hear the bell ring. The first time, it was very loud. Then it rang a second time, a bit weaker. Then they heard a very weak third ring.

The snake kept her word and allowed the man to go free. Instead of heading on the capital, he decided to climb the mountain and to see who it was that rang the bell. Sure enough, the temple was empty. But there under the bell was the bird that he’d saved the day before, its beak shattered from having flown into the bell three times. To this day, the bell is known as the “Compassion Bell.”

Another restful night

That night, back at the retreat house, a light breeze jingles the wind chimes along the porch. Tired and sore after climbing in the mountains, I immediately fall asleep upon the warm floor. Again, I wake at 4 AM with the toll of the bell. It’s more muffled than the morning before. I’m surprised I’m not sore from the climb. This sleeping arrangement is magical. And again, as with the morning before, I get up and go outside. A light snow falls, dusting the ground. 

The temple’s bell
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Anchored by Jesus

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
Hebrews 6:13-20
February 14, 2021
c2021

Sermon recorded on Friday, February 12th at Mayberry Presbyterian Church

At the Beginning of Worship:
Today, as we continue working our way through the book of Hebrews, we’re reminded of the certainty of God’s promise. Christians are people of hope because God has given us his word. Our hope is not in our own doing, it is in Jesus Christ. As I’ve said all along, this book is about Jesus’ superiority in all things, including our hope. In the early days of the World Council of Churches, they expressed our Christian hope with this statement: 

The hope of which we speak is something different from what [people] usually means when they speak of hope. In common speech “hope” means a strong desire for something which may be possible but is not certain. What is spoken of here is something that we wait for expectantly yet patiently, because we know it can never disappoint us.[1]  

As faithful followers of Jesus, we place our hope in him and not in our own works or actions. We know of the promises God has made. We are securely anchored in such hope by our faith in Jesus Christ. That’s our message for today, and every day.

After the Reading of Scripture: 

When I was younger and working for the Boy Scouts of America, I was involved with a national team to increase high adventure activities in council camps. Our goal was to encourage older scouts to return to camp by providing them an interesting program. Named Project COPE. (for Challenging Outdoor Physical Experience), we developed high ropes courses and taught the scouts the basics of rock climbing and teamwork. Of course, with scouts, safety was foremost. Having a scout climb up a vertical wall or cross over a two wire bridge some thirty or forty feet in the air involves risk. 

On Belay

Such risk can be mitigated by using a top belay. A belay is a rope attached to harness of a climber. This rope will catch the scout if he falls. For beginning climbers, you always use a top belay, in which the safety rope runs directly above the climber so that the belayer can keep the rope taut. Often, if climbing on a short cliff, the belay rope would run around a stout tree and back to the ground below climber. There, the belayer watched and was ready if the climber slips. By keeping the rope tight and running it through a braking device, if the scout slips, he wouldn’t fall far.  

For you see, if the scout weighed 125 pounds fell 10 feet, he’d create 1250 pounds of pressure. That’s a lot of stress on the rope, on their insides (where the harness is attached), and onto the belayer. It’s enough force to cause serious injury. But if the belay line is taut, the climber should not fall more than a few inches. They won’t experience extreme pressure and should be able to continue with their activities. 

Belayed to God

There is a comfort to being belayed when there is a danger of a fall, whether climbing on rock or a roof. Metaphorically, this can also be applied to living faithfully as a disciple. The Preacher of Hebrews speaks of our souls being anchored to God. If God holds us, we should fear nothing. As the Psalmist proclaims:

For God alone my soul waits in silence,
    for my hope is from him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation,
    my fortress; I shall not be shaken.[2]

Jesus Christ is our hope. Jesus is our belayer. There is no one else in whom we can place our trust. Yes, ever a good friend can disappoint us. If the one we trust to belay us in this life gets distracted, we can be in peril. But there is certainty about God’s promise as shown in Jesus Christ. 

Confirmed with an Oath

Before getting to the part about the anchor to our soul being secured to God, the Preacher in Hebrews begins with a promise God made to Abraham. This was God’s third promise to Abraham, made after Abraham showed his willingness to sacrifice Isaac.[3] Speaking to Abraham, God secures his oath by his own name, because there is nothing higher.

When we think of someone making an oath, we raise the bar of what we expect from them. We often take an oath on a Bible, as with someone being called to testify in court or someone being installed into a position of authority. The one making the oath promises truthfulness or faithfulness. An oath taken with God’s name means that if we do not live up to our commitment, God can and should deal with us. For this reason, scripture warns us not to take such an oath lightly. It’s serious business.[4]


God, in order to comfort Abraham, takes an oath on his own name. As mere mortals, we make our oaths on God, that which is larger than us. But there is nothing above God. Hence, he makes the oath in his own name. 

God wants Abraham to know that his word is good.  By this point in his life, Abraham is up in his years. He has a twelve-year-old son, Isaac. God promises that through Isaac, a nation will be born. This is Abraham’s hope. He can go to his grave knowing that God will see through on his promise. 

Oaths in our world

In our world, especially in Western Culture, we often have a much shorter timeframes than Abraham. It would be over 400 years before Abraham’s nation would be realized. We always want things to happen immediately, and easily forget that God plays the long game. The promise will be kept, the Preacher of Hebrews proclaims. But God has his own timeline. 

God holding our anchor

The important thing is to remember that we’re secure in Jesus Christ. The anchor rode which safeguards our soul runs behind the holy of holies. Jesus, himself, has secured our anchor behind the veil. God holds our anchor. 

You know, on a boat, when you drop anchor, you have to check and make sure it’s secured on the bottom. Most times, the water is not clear enough for you to see where your anchor is secured on the bottom. You only see the rope descending into the depths of the water. You tug the rope to makes sure the anchor is secure and you look at the angle of the line to makes sure it’s at the appropriate angle to best hold. And you have faith. 

With our spiritual anchor rode running behind the veil, or into heaven, faith is also required. However, we can trust that we’re secure because we know Jesus, our high priest, who went behind the veil, has set our anchor. 

Anchors are more important in inclement weather 

Of course, just because we’re secured doesn’t mean that we’ll not have problems. The purpose of an anchor is to hold a boat in all kinds of weather. Likewise, with our spiritual anchor, God promises to hold onto us despite whatever happens to us in this life. Our hope isn’t that we’ll have no problems. Our hope is in Jesus Christ, who know the trouble we endure. Set your sights on Jesus, let him secure your soul so that regardless of what trial or temptation you encounter, your soul is secure.  

Jesus our pathfinder 

In the last verse of this passage, we’re told that Jesus is our forerunner. He’s paving the way for us. So, Jesus not only holds us securely, but he also cuts the path for us to follow. 

Last week, in the previous passage where I spoke about motivation, I talked about a special campfire when I was a Boy Scout. What I didn’t say then, but you probably knew, is that these campfires included a bunch of silly songs. One had to do with the various ways you can’t get to heaven:

Oh, you can’t get to Heaven in an old Ford car,
‘Cause an old Ford car won’t go that far. 

Oh, you can’t get to Heaven on roller skates,
You’d roll right by them Pearly Gates…

And you can’t get to heaven in a limousine,
‘Cause the Good Lord ain’t got no gasoline…

There are an unlimited number of rhyming lines and throughout the summer, others would be added. But toward the end of the song, there were these lines:

If you get to Heaven before I do,
Just cut a hole and pull me through.[5]

Conclusion

Of course, such a song is silly. This idea of someone pulling us into heaven is wishful thinking at best. But there is one who can “cut that hole and pull us through.” It’s our Lord, who has us on belay as we travel this world, holding us tight. We can have confidence in God’s promises made in Jesus Christ. For that, we should be grateful, and live our lives in hopeful expectation. Amen. 

[1]”Christ: The Hope of the World,” report of the Advisory Commission on the main theme of the Second Assembly of the World Council of Churches (1954), in The Christian Hope and the Task of the Church. Quoted by John H. Leith, Basic Christian Doctrine (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 1993), 286.

[2] Psalm 62:5-6. 

[3] God made promises to Abraham three times.  In Genesis 12:1-3, he promised him a great nation, In Genesis 15:5-6, God promised Abraham as many descendants as the stars. In Genesis 22:15-18, God (through an angel) promises Abraham that his descendants will be more than the stars and the sands on the seashore. Here, God swears the oath by his own name, as there is nothing higher. 

[4]See: https://www.ligonier.org/learn/devotionals/jesus-teaching-on-oaths/

[5] For the variety of lyrics along with a link to the tune, see: https://boyscouttrail.com/content/song/cant_get_to_heaven-1339.asp

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Leaving Korea

In early 2000, I spent a two weeks in Korea, preaching and visiting friends and my parents (my father’s company had assigned him to a Korean factory making power plants near Pusan). I preached at a couple of churches, one of which had nearly 2000 in attendance at one service, which is the largest congregation to which I’ve preached. This tells of my last day in the country, as I took the train up the Korean peninsula to Seoul and then caught a plane for San Francisco.

Morning train to Seoul

It’s still dark when I board the morning express in Masan, heading toward Seoul. This far south, in this port and industrial city, the weather is chilly and wet but not really cold. I find my seat, stow my two bags overhead (a backpack and a suit bag) and push my jacket up against the window as a pillow. A pretty Korean woman sits next to me. She looks to be in her mid-20s and wears a dress and heels. We smile but when I speak, she shakes her head and says, “No English.” 

Shortly afterwards, a whistle blows. The train jerks and my journey begins. I lay my jacket against the window, and my head upon it, alternating my time between looking and reading a book on Korean history and culture. Outside, fog mysteriously shrouds the streets lights.

Dark clouds hid the sunrise; all is gray. As we rush north toward Taegu City, we pass through many rural villages that seem the anti-thesis of Korea’s modern cities. Instead of concrete high-rise apartments, rural homes appear to have changed little over the past century. Most have small courtyards, protected by a high concrete walls. The house sits inside the courtyard, built out from the side of one of the walls. Smoke puffs from the clay pipes above these humble adobes. They use either coal, charcoal or wood fires to heat and to cook. All around the villages are fields for rice or vegetables, onions and cabbage and peppers. At Taegu, the woman next to me gets off.

After pulling out of Taegu, the train heads in a northwestwardly direction to Taejon City. This is mountainous country, but the hills are old and worn, like the Appalachians, not rugged and young like the Rockies. With the trees bare of leaves, I can make out the large nests of magpies. 

Burial customs
These were not the graves I saw from the train, but graves on Kojeto Island (where they seldom receive snow)

Dotting the hills in the rural areas are many mounts representing burial sites. They place coffins on the ground. Stones and dirt are piled up around it. The government banned this practice because it takes up too much land in a country where land is precious. However, I’m told some people still bury their dead in this manner. Only today, they do it at night, in order not to attract attention. 

Yongdong atrocity

Here, snow covers the ground. The roads are icy. At a crossing, just beyond the railroad gate, catch a glimpse of two cars in the ditch and a wrecker working to pull one back onto the highway. Along this section, we pass Yongdong. Near here, during a hasty retreat during the Korean War, scared American soldiers opened fire on civilians, killing many, in a tragedy of the war. Although I am not sure exactly where the site is at, I think about as it’s been in the news recently.

From Taejon, the train races north toward Seoul, traveling through a highly populated area that’s mostly industrial and suburban. High-rise apartments dot the landscape and there are many factories. The train pulls into the station at Seoul a few minutes early. I retrieve my bags and head up an escalator to the main station, worried how I’ll be able to find my ride with so many people. There, at the top of the escalator, I’m pleasantly surprised to see Chanrank and Chang waiting for me. They suggest we stop and have lunch at a café across from the college where Chanrank teaches. 

Chop Head Hill

After lunch, as we have four hours before I need to be at the airport; Chang asks if I still want to visit Chop Head Hill. When I had arrived in Korea two weeks early, I had asked Chanrank and her husband about this place. I immediately worried that I had insulted them, but her husband told me more about the place. As he was required to be at the university where he taught this day, Chang came along to take us there. Yes,” I said. I would like an to visit the site. 

The three of us seemed to be an odd pair to tour this site scared to Korean Catholics. Like me, Chanrak is Presbyterian. Chang is Buddhist. We wind through the narrow streets north of the Han River in Chang’s car till we finally arrive at the the infamous bluff overlooking the river.

For years, this hill was the site for executions, where the heads of the condemned rolled down into the river. One of the artifacts is a round stone, looking somewhat like a millstone, which was used in the beheadings. The condemned had a rope tied around his or her necks. The rope ran through the hole in the middle of the stone. One of the executors would pull the head of the condemn through the stone while the other used an ax to remove the head from the body. 

In the middle of the 1860s, the French tried to gain a foothold in Korea. Sending a gunboat up the Han River, they shelled Seoul. The emperor, seeking a way to cleanse his country of the foreign devils, ask his shaman what to do. They suggested the execution of all Christians in Korea. 

Catholic massacre in 1866

In 1866, the Korean emperor ordered the extermination of Korean Christians. At the time, almost all Korean Christians were Catholics. Priest from China converted most of these Christians. Members of churches were bound in chains and dragged across the nation to this place, where they were executed by beheading. 

After a decade of tension, in the late 1870s, the French and Korea signed a treaty that guaranteed religious freedom for Korean citizens. In the aftermath of this treaty, Protestants missionaries—especially Presbyterians and Methodist—flooded into the country. In all of Asia, only the Philippines have more Christians than Korea. About 40% of the population claim to be Christian, half of which are Presbyterian. Another 40% of the population is Buddhist. On the hundred anniversary of the martyrdoms, the Catholic Church built a shrine in the honor of the martyrs. Known today as Chou Du San Martyrs’ Shrine or it’s English equivalent, “Chop Head Hill.”

Yongdo Full Gospel Church


As we still had two hours before we had to be at the airport, we swung by the Yongdo Full Gospel Church. An independent Pentecostal Church with roots in the Assembly of God, they claim to be the largest congregation in the world with 750,000 members. We quickly tour the church. Chang, a Buddhist, seems especially proud of the idea that his country has the world largest church. The sanctuary looks a look like a basketball area and seats nearly 20,000. Although large, I’m left to wonder where everyone worships. Even with their five worship services on Sunday, they would only be able to have 20% of their members member’s present.

After visiting the church, we rush to the airport. After checking bags, we have time for a cup of tea before I have to go through security. I shake Chang’s hand and hug Chanrank, then head through security. In an hour, I’m flying east and sleeping the night away on a Singapore Air flight to San Francisco.