Dusty Paths to Glory

The tenth week, tenth month, tenth year—still there. Insecurity. Grief. Loneliness. Anxiety. Fear. Bitterness. No matter our efforts, no matter our prayers, still there.

Perhaps our feet trace similar dusty footprints:

Lonely, longing, shame. The Samaritan woman—“I’m thirsty. I have broken relationships. I have questions about worship.” Jesus responds, “I can give you living water. I am the Messiah, revealing God.”

Fear, exhaustion. The disciples on a stormy sea in the middle of the night, “We’re afraid!” Jesus proclaims, “It is I!”

Selfish. Needy. Longing for a deeper sense of the power of God. The crowd, glutted on a feast of loaves and fish, “Power! Signs! Give us more! Take care of us!” Jesus beckons, “I am the Bread of Life.”

Self-righteous. Moral. Missing something. The grumbling self-righteous Pharisees, “You can’t do that on the Sabbath. We know the law. Who are you? By what authority?” Jesus urges, “I am the Good Shepherd, the true religious leader that Ezekiel promised.”

Mourning. Feeling abandoned by God. Mary and Martha mourning, “Lord! He died! Where were you?” Jesus’ words resound, “I am the Resurrection and the Life.”

Are we that different?

Nor can we shake the dust off ourselves. Ten weeks, ten months, ten years. Dust still clings, perhaps only coats thicker, layer upon layer.

But in our dusty footprints intersect another set—God himself in flesh, trodding our teary treks.

To each of the travelers, content or discontent, moral or immoral, Jesus did the same thing: He pointed to himself. He is the answer to our dusty stains and terrestrial troubles and untouchable longings.  We all know that. We’ve all probably heard the joke of the Sunday school teacher asking her children, “What is your favorite food?” to be greeted with silence. Finally, a girl raises her hand and says, “Well, I know the answer is Jesus, but I sure like chocolate.” Sometimes, we’re like that little girl. We know the answer is Jesus. But how? We perhaps even long for the answer to be Jesus. But how? Really? We can taste and touch chocolate—so we often run to that, and thank the Lord for the chocolate instead of himself.

Lonely, longing, shame—she ran to men instead of her Maker.

Fear, exhaustion—they kept rowing instead of turning to the Lord of the Seas.

Needy, longing for a deeper sense of God—they settled for bread instead of the Bread of Life.

Moral, missing—they settled for their laws and control instead of the Burden-Bearer and Perfect Lamb and High Priest.

Mourning—Mary and Martha grieved without hope instead of seeking the Resurrection and the Life.

Insecurity—we seek people’s approval, comfort, insurance policies instead of the one who has set his love upon us.

Bitterness—we fall into revenge, self-pity, avoidance, blaming instead of turning to the Forgiving Judge.

Our dusty stains go on…. And beneath it all is a heart set on dust. A heart that does not joy in Jesus. This is the root of sin, the root of our failures to live the Christian life, the root of fears and troubles: We do not joy in Jesus.

But for our lack of joy in Jesus, he steps in. For our lack, he is perfect and his perfection covers.

His death has freed us from chains, from our debt.

His resurrection empowers us to live anew.

His future coming gives a hope and a song.

How is Jesus the answer? These next few weeks I want to probe that out, to see how Jesus is the answer, how the one set of footsteps on the sand is true, how see how the dusty stains—of ten weeks, ten months, ten years of those hopeless stains, sins, weaknesses, idols, longings—find forgiveness and fulfillment in Christ.We all walk dusty, potholed roads--but each is cast in a glory ray of the sun towards which we walk, the rays which catch the dusty particles, turning the dust into a cloud of glory. Look ahead, the Son awaits.