Wilderness Wanderings

How many of us wouldn't love to be able to sing the ending of this Psalm? How many of us haven't felt guilty because we lie awake for hours at night stewing over this and that? How we wish we had the faith displayed at the end of this Psalm!

We would all like to live a worry-free life. Christians who worry often feel guilty for not living up to Jesus' encouragement not to worry but to trust in Him (Matthew 6). However, Jesus also invited his disciples to come and learn from him (Matthew 11:29). Moving from worry to trust is often a long twisty road. This psalm shines some light on that pathway.

It's a rugged psalm, moving quickly from place to place. Prayers in the Bible do not always follow a straight line from "Our Father in heaven" to "Amen". Many are erratic, full of the conflicting emotions we humans find stewing inside us. The opening lines form a complaint against God. The psalmist has been in distress and has prayed about his troubles, but God has been silent. He is troubled by God's silence.

Then the psalmist raises a complaint against people who are pursuing dishonest lives. One gets the sense that the psalmist's own life is being made miserable by these people. She has sought to live with integrity but has received little support for such a life.

Verse 3 is really the crux of the Psalm. It is a piece of important theology, answering the question, "What is God like?"

And the answer is this: God takes care of the godly. But rather than giving us a textbook answer as to how God does this, Israel's prayer book explores this through the eyes of the godly, how they have experienced this. It makes for a rich tapestry. The godly are those who desire God and want to honour Him with their lives. The psalmist is sure that God will listen to their prayers.

Of the eight stanzas in this psalm, only 4 are addressed to God. Stanzas 2-5 are addressed to the psalmist's enemies. Many biblical scholars suspect that these adversaries are Absalom and his followers who chased David into the wilderness. He calls them away from their sinful pursuits, to humble themselves before God.

Even if we identify more with the godly than the rebellious, the invitation to search hearts, to determine motives, should be heeded by us all. We need to test them against God's holy ways and root out any foothold the devil may find. Part of that examination is silence. The fewer words we speak the better. How often haven't we got ourselves into trouble by spouting off or just saying too much, even to God? Practice listening to him.

Finally, the psalmist tells the godly to bring their case before the Lord. God is the great judge and will see that His righteousness and justice prevail. "Trusting in the Lord" means that we wait; wait for him. In this world, vengeance and anger rarely wait. But those who trust in the Lord develop patience.

It is not until all this and more has been laid out that the psalmist writes about being able to sleep. It is not an easy place to get to. Good theology takes us a long way. It helps us trust and wait.

The psalmist does not promise the godly an easy life; but we are offered a pattern for godly living during adversity. Next time you find yourself laying awake in worry, ask yourself, "What is God like?" Then remember this Psalm and others that answer that question.

1 Lord, how many are my foes! How many rise up against me! 2 Many are saying of me, "God will not deliver him." 3 But you, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high. 4 I call out to the Lord, and he answers me from his holy mountain. 5 I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the Lord sustains me. 6 I will not fear though tens of thousands assail me on every side. 7 Arise, Lord! Deliver me, my God! Strike all my enemies on the jaw; break the teeth of the wicked. 8 From the Lord comes deliverance. May your blessing be on your people. (Psalm 3)

Yesterday we heard from Psalm 2 about how the nations conspire and the peoples plot in vain against the Lord and his anointed. Today, in this Psalm ascribed to David, we hear the response of faith from the Lord's anointed.

All the things that Pastor Michael said yesterday are things we know. We know God ultimately wins out. We know that we have a secure hope for the future in Christ. And yet, while living this life between the promise and its fulfillment, the world often looks more like what David describes here in the words, "how many are my foes!"

All the world seems intent on subverting the main gospel message that the Lord delivers, or saves. We are told both explicitly and implicitly that we need to insure ourselves, secure ourselves, pursue our own happiness, peace, order, and good government—that we need to work ourselves up the ladder and elbow everyone else out on the way there under the assumption that there just isn't enough for everyone.

In response to these explicit and implicit messages swirling around us from advertisements, influencers, and the accumulated wisdom of "the way things are," many of us do live life in pursuit of our own salvation. We may perceive our need for salvation to be any number of things—saving from our family story or history, saving from financial or physical insecurity, saving from death and illness, saving from pain—there's no limit to the things any one of us might perceive as a threat or a worry, including our own selves and sins.

And yet, though David found the same issue, he responded differently. Though just as many messages of "God will not deliver you" were coming at him, he did not respond by seeking to save himself. Instead, he turned to prayer. Psalm 3 is the first prayer of the Psalter: the first Psalm that addresses God directly.

Two paths are set before us: the way of the righteous and the way of the wicked. The way of life and the way of death. Choosing life and righteousness means choosing, against all odds and apparent reality, that the God of our confession is every ounce the God he says he is. It means choosing to believe that Jesus Christ really does save.

Prayer in this context then, is an action of faith. An action of choosing to entrust ourselves, our cause, our anxieties and fears—all of it, to God. And, having entrusted ourselves to God in Christ, we may just find what David does—that in Christ, we also find our rest—no matter what our situation.

Why do the nations conspire, and the peoples plot in vain? The kings of the earth rise up and the rulers band together against the Lord and against his anointed, saying, "Let us break their chains and throw off their shackles." The One enthroned in heaven laughs; the Lord scoffs at them (Psalm 2:1-4).

Back in 1850, a French philosopher wrote, "Each citizen is habitually engaged in the contemplation of a very puny object, namely himself". More recently, Goldie Hawn told college graduates it was time for them to attend the "college of you." Self-obsession is the curse of our day, a significant cause of all the social and personal problems we face. Some social scientists indicate that it is the cause of much drug addiction, suicide, and domestic abuse.

Much Christian prayer suggests that Jesus' followers are equally self-absorbed. Our prayers sound like the whining of a 3-year-old. There is a solution. We need to pray the Psalms. As we explore them over the next months, may they cause our praying to sound more like the prayer Jesus taught us to pray.

Psalm 2 picks up the major theme of the first. People are either with Lord or opposed to him. It adds this layer, those who are opposed to God will also be opposed to His followers. As such, this psalm offers at least three points for Christian reflection.

First, why are we so surprised when we face ridicule for our faith? Why do we not anticipate that being a Christian is hazardous to our health? This psalm gives us hints of what the New Testament points out so strongly: Jesus is the stumbling block. He is God's Son, all must decide, are they with him or not?

In the western world, Christians have largely had it easy compared to many places in the world. Evidence suggests that this is changing. If it becomes more difficult to follow Jesus, than we are entering a time of normalcy, Christians are not wanted. How will we pray about this?

Second, this opposition doesn't bother God. He laughs. No matter how many argue the contrary, God sits enthroned above, and we believe Jesus sits at His right hand. Jesus holds the sceptre of power and authority.

It is our natural inclination to get rid of our enemies right away; to get even; to triumph. But the Bible makes quite clear that God is in no hurry to be proven right. For many reasons He chooses to wait. Waiting teaches us perseverance and it gives time for others to find their home in him.

We can be assured of this: in the end, God will put all things right. He will pronounce judgement and justice will reign. Romans 12 ends with the reminder that justice belongs to God. Therefore, we ought not to take revenge or seek to set things right ourselves, but rather to bless our enemies. This begins with prayer.

This leads to the third matter the psalm invites us to ponder: whose side are we on. I use the word ponder deliberately. It is necessary to take time to reflect on this question. It will not do to say, "Of course, I am on Jesus' side, I made a commitment to him years ago; I made profession of faith."

What is necessary here is self examination. We need to examine the way that we live, especially the way we deal with controversy and with those who disagree with us. If we always need to win or even to prove that we are right, can we really say that we are allowing God to be God?

Ponder what Peter writes about Jesus, "When they hurled insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly" (1 Peter 2:23). He left us this example to follow. Do we? How does this psalm change the way we pray?

Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—whatever they do prospers. Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous. For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked leads to destruction. (Psalm 1)

Today we begin a new journey in our Wilderness Wanderings. Having reached the end of the Gospel of Luke, our intent is to begin walking through the Psalms. Today, we enter the Psalter through the front door of Psalm 1.

It presents before us two paths: the way of the righteous and the way of the wicked. It is reminiscent of Moses and Joshua setting two ways before the people in days of old—the way of life and the way of death—with the injunction: "now choose life!"

This will be a question set before us all throughout the Psalter as the wicked are contemplated and the righteous too. What separates them? Why do the wicked prosper while the righteous suffer? What does God mean by the "way of life" and "fruitfulness," even and especially in times of hardship, sorrow, evil and enemies? In the Psalter we are confronted even with dark and painful expressions of faith in lament, like Psalm 88, that makes no turn back to God or the light at all… and yet somehow remains on the faithful path of the righteous.

So: Psalm 1 prepares our hearts for this journey, and already here there is a curious echo of what is to come. An echo that may be lost on we Westerners who live in the lush land of the Great Lakes and Greenbelt.

A colleague recently wondered aloud, given our COVID experiences, what exactly that tree planted by streams of water might have been, in the mind of the Psalmist. We might imagine a mighty oak tree or one that bears edible fruit, like an apple tree or something. Or, if we're really imaginative and get our heads a little closer to the Middle Eastern context of the Bible, perhaps we even imagine something a bit more native to the terrain, like a cedar, fig or even an olive tree.

But this colleague of mine wondered if the tree the Psalmist had in mind wasn't more like the Acacia tree. You see, the hills around Jerusalem—that famed hill country of Judea, is pretty dusty, rocky, and bare. Just sprigs of yellowed grass that pop up here and there, a couple of prickly shrubs. To our eyes the land is mostly indistinguishable from desert.

But there is a tree that grows in that desert. You can find it in the sandy, dry river beds where the torrent rushes through on those rare occasions when the rain does fall in the desert. This tree makes for some of the hardest wood on earth. A 2019 study in Israel discovered that unlike every other tree in Israel: the Acacia grows year round, including in the dry season. It has sunk its roots deep enough, like tens of meters deep, to the place where whatever water there might still be in those desert streams can be found. As a result, the Acacia tree's leaves do not wither, even when all the other plants have.

So: what if the life of righteousness looks less like the easy life of lush luxury, and more like a hard wooded work of straining for the sub-terranean waters of life, even when all else on the surface looks dry and dead?

When he had led them out to the vicinity of Bethany, he lifted up his hands and blessed them. While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven. Then they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy. And they stayed continually at the temple, praising God (Luke 24:50-53).

Luke ends his gospel in the place where it began: in the temple. God's people are at worship. But much has changed. Its now a people gathered in Jesus' name. Throughout the gospel accounts, the disciples cannot figure out who Jesus is, neither can they accept what he says. But now, in this simple statement, "they worshipped him", Luke tells us that all doubt and confusion is gone. Jews only worship God and these disciples are still Jews. Now they know, Jesus is their God, and so they worship him.

Their master has commissioned them as his witnesses and to carry on his ministry. The last image the disciples have of Jesus is his arms lifted over them in blessing. From heaven, Jesus continues to bless and send out his people. He returned to heaven to carry on his ministry from there. But now he will do so through his disciples.

As Zechariah and Mary began the gospel by responding to God with joy, we find the disciples doing likewise as Luke concludes his story. Worship of the living God, revealed in Jesus of Nazareth, is at the heart of Luke's vision of the Christian life. Their hearts are filled with joy because they know that God is on the move. His redemption is being worked out.

In the beginning, Mary said, "My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me—holy is his name" (Luke 1:46-49). The disciples have discovered that this is true for each of them. So, they worship at the temple.

'The temple' is the place where God meets his people. This gospel opened there with Zechariah, at the heart of the Jewish faith. In those days, that was the place where Israel went to meet their God. Part of Luke's story has been to show that a new way has been opened for us to be united with God. There is a new temple.

The temple building, doomed to destruction, has been replaced by the community of Jesus's people gathered. Henceforth, it is they who 'are God's temple'. Among them God meets with them. Is it possible that we have put too much emphasis on the individual aspect of our faith, personal devotions? Is it possible that we have underestimated the communal gathering of the faithful? Is that one of the things we have learned during this pandemic?

Christians need each other. Yes, God meets us in the 'prayer closet', but together we are the temple of God.

At the end of Luke's gospel two things seem important: that Jesus sends us, his people, into the world to tell his story and that we gather to worship him. In worship, we humble ourselves as we exalt our Lord, we encourage each other in our commitment to and passion for our Saviour, we submit ourselves to his Word, and we respond by giving ourselves to him with joy.

The gospel is the message of joy. "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people" (Luke 2:10), the angel told the shepherds. Joy can't be contained. It must be shared. We have the good news. We have been redeemed. Let's share this with each other and the world.

An extended Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is 1 Corinthians 1:1-2:2 from the New International Version of the Bible. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

DIVE IN QUESTIONS

1. Fun Question: what do you know about TrueCity Hamilton? What did you learn about this movement/network our church is a part of today?

2. What were some of the significant facts about Corinth that shaped the situation of the church Paul was writing to?

3. What were some of the possible reasons for the divisions in the church in Corinth?

4. Where does our fear of not belonging, or our sins of pride, self-righteousness, and a lack of love for one another still spill over in our lives and the life of our church? Is there a particular place in your life that you see this?

5. What difference does the cross of Christ make and how does it change the way that we interact with one another?

6. How might your interactions with other Christians flow differently in light of the humbling fact that we are all equal before the cross?

He said to them, "This is what I told you while I was still with you: Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms." Then he opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures. He told them, "This is what is written: The Messiah will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance for the forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. I am going to send you what my Father has promised; but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high." (Luke 24:44-49)

The disciples already had the word of God as given them in the books of the Old Testament, but they needed Jesus to come both as the revealer and the revelation of what that word meant before they would be ready to be his witnesses.

Jesus comes in the flesh, as we heard yesterday. The revelation of the risen Lord there in person, able to eat and be touched, which of course, is the revelation of what all of us long for when we speak of a hope for "heaven," or for "resurrection," or even just more generally for "life." We long for a life and body like his resurrection body.

But Jesus also needed to open their minds and speak to them in order to reveal himself to them. Not only is Jesus alive, but this living Jesus is what the scriptures had been talking about all along, he tells them.

The revelation of the living Jesus, present right there in the room with them was in some ways easier to grasp and convey than this second thing. "Jesus is risen" is the Gospel in a nutshell. It was a reality viscerally present and perceived to the first disciples, without which the Christian faith would not have existed.

But this second thing—this revelation of the scriptures thing—was a revelation firstly of a suffering, dying Messiah, and secondly of a Gospel message that included all nations. Suffering and dying to self remains a challenge to the church even still today. So does inclusion of diversity.

It was no easier on day one. Peter's first reaction before Jesus' death had been to rebuke him. "Never Lord, this shall never happen to you!" And now as Jesus appears to the disciples after his resurrection: he tells them that they're still not ready to live it out. They still have to wait for the Spirit before they will have the power to proclaim a suffering savior and a diverse, inclusive church for and of all nations where there is no longer Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free, male nor female.

For us who now live in the Spirit's power, Jesus' words ring out and confront us with their revealing power just the same: are we willing to take up our cross, die to ourselves daily, and follow this suffering saviour? Are we willing to forgive and preach forgiveness in his name to all people and invite them into our church? If we are: Jesus' gift of grace in the Holy Spirit will more than accomplish it within us.

He said to them, "Why are you troubled, and why do doubts rise in your minds? Look at my hands and my feet. It is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have." When he had said this, he showed them his hands and feet. And while they still did not believe it because of joy and amazement, he asked them, "Do you have anything here to eat?" They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate it in their presence (Luke 24:38-43).

Seeing Jesus in the flesh, the disciples are disorientated. As Pastor Anthony said yesterday, it is very understandable that they are frightened, resurrection is a very unusual event. Further, Jesus just materialized out of thin air. Physical bodies do not normally move through walls or doors. But Jesus, in his kindness, does not speak harshly of their slowness to believe. Rather, he invites them to use their senses to determine the truth. Is he their physical Jesus or some disembodied ghost?

We need to pay attention to this because it helps us think about our own future. What will we be like after our resurrection? In 1 Corinthians 15, we come across the question, "With what kind of body will the dead be resurrected?" (cf. 15:35). Paul tells us that the body will be glorious, like Jesus' resurrected body (cf. 15:36ff). Rather then telling, Luke shows us.

Jesus wants to make clear that his body, and thus, after resurrection, ours, is fully physical. He has flesh and bones. We will too. He can eat bread and fish. We will too. Further, his body maintained the scars of his crucifixion. Hmmm. Will we too carry scars of this life? Maybe. We are told that Jesus will wipe away all our tears, but not our scars.

Here is the main point: we are not resurrected for some spiritual non-physical existence in heaven. Jesus' resurrection is God's deepest affirmation of the material world. Physical reality is not some form of lesser existence that we should seek to escape. The new creation will be as physical as this one. However, it will also be different. Out of the old, God will make a new type of material, no longer subject to death.

In our current existence, there are two distinct spheres: heaven and earth. We do not travel back and forth but by exception. In this age, we are tied to this earth. Our new bodies, like Jesus' new body, will belong in both heaven and earth. At the end of the book of Revelation, heaven and earth will finally be joined together into one, so there won't be any shuttling to and fro; the two dimensions will be fused together at last.

Right now, our bodies are earthly only; Jesus' new body is at home in both earth and heaven. Some of us many need our mental pictures of 'heaven' adjusted to allow for this startling possibility. We who live, even as Christians, with our thinking conditioned by the world of sin and death, find it a huge struggle to adjust to God's new world. That is part of the challenge of the gospel.

There is something else here. Easter is forever tied to Good Friday. Like it or not, Jesus body does and always will, carry the scars of the cross. And we who follow a nail scarred-risen Saviour may not separate the two events. Until death separates us from this earth or Christ returns to complete his work of redemption, we are tied to this earth and its people and its scars.

We are not to run away from the sorrows of this world. Jesus told us and continues to tell us to pick up our cross daily and to follow him. Isaiah says that 'he took up our pain and bore our suffering' (53:4). The church has always understood that we are called to walk with those who suffer, Mother Teresa of Calcutta being a prime example of one who did that.

The suffering of the world is immense; the harm that sin has done cannot be measured. How do we bare up under it all? With the hope of the resurrection burning in our hearts. Paul's mini sermon on the resurrection is vivid with imagery and full of hope; yet it ends rather blandly, "Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labour in the Lord is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:58).

We quickly forget that worshiping a risen Lord is actually a very odd thing to do.

Jesus has just appeared to the disciples on the Emmaus road. In fact, he's appeared to Peter and likely to others at this point as well. The Upper Room is all abuzz with Jesus sightings and the news that he's alive and on the move! "It is true!" they had just been saying: "The Lord has risen and has appeared…"

And yet: when Jesus appears among them: they're startled and scared of what they see. They think it's a ghost. Which, to be fair, is what any sane person would've thought. Regardless of whatever news that happened to be circulating at the time: the only picture or sound of Jesus that most of them had was the memory, accessed only through their own minds now, of the Jesus they had known before he had, well… died. And, a mere rumor of this good news was not immediately enough to overpower the empirical truths that their own senses had perceived. A mere rumor could not bring the voice and image of Jesus that lived only now in their memories back to embodiment before them.

So, for Jesus to appear, embodied and speaking before them: what a shock to the system! It's one thing to hear some good news, it is an entirely different thing to witness something for yourself. For their own eyes to see and recognize a familiar face that they'd last seen dead, for their own ears to hear a familiar voice that they'd last heard on the cross—what a strange experience. Almost like that sensation your body gets when you're sitting in your parked car and a large truck that fills your entire scope of vision begins moving next to you. You feel like you're moving, but you know it can't be true.

So it must have been for the disciples. To hear that Jesus was alive was not the same as the visceral, sensual experience of seeing and hearing the Jesus who was alive. To perceive him for themselves was disorienting. And yet, without that experience of disorientation, the reality of Jesus' life would never have had the power or force to re-orient them to a radically different understand of the world, of Jesus alive, and of the Kingdom of God he would send them to proclaim.

I think in some ways the same is still true for us. We can sit in church, engage in Bible studies, and join in ministry ventures all our lives and never face that radical disorientation and reorientation that Gospel transformation—an encounter with the risen Christ—entails. The Bible everywhere promises that we cannot meet Jesus and remain the same. Encountering Jesus means a transformation of our hearts and lives: a repentance, a turning around, a dying to ourselves so that the new life of Christ might take hold of us and in us.

So: an invitation to pay attention. With your eyes. With your ears. Watch for Jesus. Listen for him. Seek him out in prayer. Attend to the ups and downs in your day today that might betray his movement in your life, inviting you to repent, to turn, to trust, to remember, to believe.

Jesus appears to the disciples who had gathered in his name and were eagerly seeking him. It is to they that were paying attention that he appears, and to them that he speaks his word of "peace."

They got up and returned at once to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven and those with them, assembled together and saying, "It is true! The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon." Then the two told what had happened on the way, and how Jesus was recognized by them when he broke the bread (Luke 24:33-34).

Remember! Remember! Much of life is about remembering.

When families get back together after being apart for a while, they talk about the present, they may talk about the future, but eventually they will get around to talking about the past. Remembering! One story will lead to another and another and another. Much of it is just lighthearted fun recounting each other's quirks and quarks.

Yet, often, there is something deeper going on as well. This storytelling gives shape to meaning. We share the stories that fashioned us, that forged our strengths and formed our lingering fears. These are the events that unite families or, sometimes, sadly, tear them apart. Hearing and telling the past creates opportunities to set our history in a broader context, to see patterns that were not visible while we lived the events. Also, openings arise for us to forgive, to heal, to let go, to begin new chapters, to travel new pathways.

This is exactly what happened on that first Easter Sunday. Recall, it began with sorrow and fear and confusion. With Jesus' crucifixion, hopes had been dashed. The empty tomb added insult to injury. And all this followed by those reports that Jesus was alive and making appearances.

We have travelled with two of Jesus' disciples as they returned home from Jerusalem, utterly bewildered, and undoubtedly, not believing the stories of resurrection. As Jesus joined them to explain the scriptures about himself, our hearts too burned. We wonder if we would have recognized him any earlier then they did. Not likely, we must admit.

It was only in the breaking of the bread that they saw him for who he was. This act triggered their memory; they had seen him do this before. It was him. It was Jesus. He has risen indeed.

What do they do? They hurry back to Jerusalem. Almost certainly, based on the other gospels, they go to that upper room where, just a few days ago, Jesus had broken bread and as he passed it to his disciples said, "Eat this bread in remembrance of me."

That is where they go to tell their story; to add it to all the other stories that are piling up, one on top of the other. And slowly, bit by bit, the Holy Spirit will help this motley crew of half-hearted and bewildered disciples to make sense of it all. But before understanding, they must witness, that is, tell their story, to the other followers.

Their sorrow has been transformed into joy as their master broke bread with them. They have good news. It must be shared. They had convinced Jesus not to travel on because the hour was late, now it is even later, but return to Jerusalem they must. Some good news just can't wait.

This will become the story that creates a believing community. Therefore, the story must be told over and over. It cannot be forgotten. We must tell it and retell it. It is the story that has fashioned the church. It is our story. Parents tell it, teachers tell it, grandparents tell it. We must tell it to each other.

It is the story of God's grace. It is the story that enables us to travel new roads, to get off the roads of death and travel the pathways of life.

And to this story, we add new stories. Stories of the risen, bread breaking Lord, making himself know to us. What helps you remember the old, old story? One Wilderness Wandering listener wrote in about his Holy Spirit tree. Every time he passes that tree, he remembers the mighty Spirit of God who raised Jesus from the dead and prays for fresh Spirit winds to blow.

In the Old Testament, Israel was instructed to pile up rocks. These piles pointed back to a great work of God which shaped Israel. As they travelled, they would tell the story, remembering the past, shaping the present and giving hope for the future. What stories can you tell? How has our resurrected, bread break Lord, been blowing in your life? Tell the old, old story. Then add to it, your encounters with Jesus.