Journeys: A preparation for back to Church Sunday

Over the past months my mind has been greatly occupied with journeys – not because we plan to go on one, but because I have been directing The Wizard of Oz as our school play. It’s over now, but the “journey” theme remains with me. You almost certainly know the story well: Dorothy and her dog Toto are carried away, “somewhere over the rainbow,” from their dull grey Kansas farm to the brightly coloured, magical land of Oz. Dorothy meets some fantastic characters: a scarecrow, tin woodsman, and cowardly lion who become good friends. She is very welcome to stay, but what she really wants is to go home. Together, they journey to the Emerald City to see the Wizard, then out to the lair of the Wicked Witch of the West, having a series of adventures on the way. The Wizard on whom they pin all their hopes turns out to be a fake; but in the end, with the help of some magic shoes, and the advice of Glinda the Good, Dorothy achieves her wish, and is transported back to Kansas.

Most literary journeys have a clear starting point, destination and purpose. Such is Dorothy’s journey. There are disappointments and deviations, challenges and tests; but at all times the characters, and the audience, know what they want to achieve, and work towards it. Not all real journeys are so well defined, however; and history reveals some epic journeys which tested human endurance and ingenuity to the limit.

The Crusaders traveling to the Holy Land; the journey of Marco Polo overland to China; Columbus’ voyage across the Atlantic, or Ferdinand Magellan’s sailing around the world; the explorations of Cook, or of those who opened up the heart of Africa; the Polish orphans who came to NZ at the close of WWII. All these made long and difficult journeys. Some returned home safely, but the fates of others were more varied. The “India” that Columbus believed he had found turned out to be a whole new continent. Magellan died, never seeing his homeland again; and the Polish orphans eventually settled here, carving out new lives in a new land.

Another great journey is the subject of our Old Testament reading this morning. From the book of Exodus we heard the instructions for the first Passover: how the lamb was to be selected, killed and roasted with herbs; how some of the blood was to be spread on the door post and lintel, that it was to be completely consumed, and that it was to be eaten in haste, fully dressed ready for the outdoors, ready for travel: sandals on the feet; staff (walking stick) at hand and cloak tucked in ready to go. The Lamb of Passover gave the Israelites both escape from slavery and bountiful, food to sustain them at the start of their journey.

Later in the same chapter of Exodus, we read:

“At midnight the Lord struck down all the firstborn of Egypt…. Pharaoh and all his officials got up during the night and there was loud wailing in Egypt, for there was not a house without someone dead. During the night Pharaoh summoned Moses and Aaron, and said, “UP! Leave my people, you and the Israelites…. Take your flocks and herds and go!”

That very night the Israelites left Egypt. The blood on the doorposts gave them protection, and as they began their long journey, first evading the Egyptians and then wandering in the desert, they were given strength and endurance by the meat they had eaten earlier.

Today’s sentence, taken from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, links the Passover lamb with Christian hope and cellebration: Christ our Passover Lamb has been sacrificed, therefore let us keep the feast. In other words, Christ is our freedom from slavery of every kind; and Christ is food for our journey - the long, meandering journey of faith.

As the Gradual hymn a few minute ago we sang Faith has set us on a journey, past the landmarks that we know. This hymn offers us a portrayal of the various journeys that people make as they explore and develop their faith.

First we meet the spiritual hitchhikers – those who tag along for any sort of free lift. They are not fussy. Any car, any ideas, any spirituality will do –a “bit of this and bit of that” approach. Then there are the “tourist package” pilgrims who keep themselves well wrapped up and stay safely in the bus, observing carefully but never risking a real encounter with real people and real problems; and never stepping out to risk the unknown. Then there are the genuine revolutionaries – those who, after much thought and prayer, challenge the institutions and the assumptions of Church and society, even when it means that they must leave the safety and structure of the institution, or when they are forced out because of their ideas. Their journey is far from safe, yet these people who “Love the Christ and leave the Church” are often the ones who blaze new trails for us to travel.

“Love the Christ and leave the Church.” Church attendance is not what it used to be. The 2006 census confirmed a number of trends that have been with us for many decades. Between the two most recent censuses (2001 and 2006) 270,000 more New Zealanders professed “no religion”, taking that section of our society to 1.3 million, or 32%. Despite population growth, Anglican numbers in NZ dropped by 30,000 to 555,000 during the same five years. This trend has been a feature of Church life throughout my lifetime, and I have heard many explanations for it.

Some people point the finger at the Church itself: boring services, old music, out of touch ideas – irrelevance! Some think the opposite: that the Church has lowered its old standards and abandoned its tradition. Others blame social trends: the introduction of television killing Evensong; weekend shopping and weekend work drawing people away; or a new degree of affluence and mobility allowing people to move about in ways that they could not decades ago. Still others focus on intellectual challenges to faith; on competition from sporting pastimes; and on plain old apathy. For whatever reason, the Church has too often been a losing competitor in an increasingly diverse marketplace.

It is one thing to agonise and to analyse these trends. The apparent reasons are endless and complex, and the reality is that for many different reasons, people’s life journeys have been on paths which have led away from Church. It is quite another thing to challenge this trend. Perhaps there are people who would like to come back. Perhaps like Dorothy, they long to come home, but don’t know how. Perhaps they have simply lost touch, drifted away, and would respond to an invitation to return.

In two weeks time, on Sunday 21 September, we are observing “Back to Church Sunday.” Throughout the Diocese, we are suggesting that the people who come to our churches – that’s us - should invite friends who have dropped away to come and join us. The idea is that we make a personal invitation; go out of our way to find someone who might welcome the invitation to rejoin our journey.

For our part, we are acknowledging that, having left, it can be hard to “come home”. Pause for a minute to think of their worries: “Will we be welcome?” “Will it have changed?” “Will I know my way around the books?” “What if someone makes a joke: “Gosh! You’re here and the Church is still standing!” Back to Church Sunday involves an understanding that people’s lives fall into patterns, sometimes not well thought out or planned; that having got out of the habit of Church, people may find it hard to come back. The plan is that having invited our friend, we bring them along, sit with them throughout the service, and look after them when we have a cup of coffee afterwards. If possible, we repeat the exercise over the following weeks.

What do we want for our visitors? I imagine we would like them to feel welcome, and given that many aspects of worship have changed, to find at least some familiarity in our service. More importantly, we would like them to find spiritual comfort, and some enlightenment and challenge for their lives. I would hate for “Back to Church” to be seen as a cynical exercise in numbers–boosting. If we do not believe that we have something to offer, then we should do nothing. I hope we are making this invitation to our friends, neighbours, acquaintances who used to go to Church because we believe that our life is enriched by our weekly – daily – meeting Christ; by being fed and nurtured, guided, challenged, helped, lifted and loved as we tread the paths of life’s journey. We have a journey to share.

Christ our Passover lamb has been sacrificed, therefore let us keep the feast. Here there is freedom. Here there is bounty, and nourishment. Here there are travelers exploring the motorways, backroads and walking tracks of faith. Here there are people who offer and welcome company on the journey of faith.