“Follow a New Way"
First Congregational Church -- Wauwatosa, Wisconsin
20th Sunday after Pentecost -- October 14, 2007
Rev. Steven A. Peay, Ph.D.
[Texts: 2 Timothy 2:8-15/Luke 17:11-19]

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost wrote that poem in 1915 and, as one writer has suggested,

This has got to be among the best-known, most-often-misunderstood poems on the planet. Several generations of careless readers have turned it into a piece of Hallmark happy-graduation-son, seize-the-future puffery. Cursed with a perfect marriage of form and content, arresting phrase wrought from simple words, and resonant metaphor, it seems as if "The Road Not Taken" gets memorized without really being read. For this it has died the cliché's un-death of trivial immortality. [Lichtenstein, Jesse. SparkNote on Frost's Early Poems. 13 Oct. 2007 <http://www.sparknotes.com/poetry/frost>. ]

Rather than being a poem about individualism and the assertion of personal freedom, it’s a poem about choices – making them and then living with them. Asked in 1953 what he was saying in the poem, Frost commented that, “I wasn’t thinking about myself there, but about a friend who had gone off to war, a person, who whichever road he went, would be sorry he didn't go the other. He was hard on himself that way." [Bread Loaf Writers' Conference, 23 Aug. 1953]

When most people think about this poem they don’t even realize that its name is “The Road Not Taken.” Rather they fixate on the phrase “the road less traveled” and off you go: a new, and very pervasive, catch phrase is born, that really has nothing to do with the essence of the poem at all. Have you ever noticed how we pick up catch phrases? Sometimes they come from a poem like Frost’s, or perhaps from a popular song, a movie, a television show, or even a commercial. I guess I'm showing my age, but I recall phrases like "Where's the beef?" More recently we've had phrases like, “Just do it!” and one I think quite appropriate for stewardship season is, "Show me the money!" Catch phrases are the product of popular culture, but they also serve to bridge the gaps in a diverse society. Commonplace phrases help us to stand on common ground, often they help us to re-think our positions and call us to follow a new way of thought, action or belief.

We can see the effectiveness of catch phrases to bring us to follow a new way when they have been used as rallying cries as our country faced a time of crisis. Going back to the 19th century, the country was rallied by "Remember the Alamo," "Remember Bull Run," and "Remember the Maine." The 20th century had its share of "remembers," none more poignant that "Remember Pearl Harbor." Now, in the 21st century we "Remember September 11th." A catch phrase, to be sure, but one that does more than simply recall an event -- it tends to unite a people and remind us to put aside our differences, following a new way for the common good.

When Paul wrote to Timothy he used a Christian catch-phrase, if you will, "Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendant of David." That phrase was derived, scholars tell us, from a "classical" Jewish-Christian creed. That little phrase evoked powerful imagery in the mind of the early Christians. To speak of Jesus as "descendant of David" reflected the promise of a future Davidic king as found in 2 Samuel 7: 13-14: "He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom for ever. I will be his father, and he shall be my son. . ." Referring to the Lord's being "raised from the dead" recalls the words of the Psalmist, "The Lord says to my lord: sit at my right hand, till I make your enemies your footstool" [Psalm 110:1]. It also proclaims the resurrection as the enthronement of this Messiah-king.

Paul declares this succinct phrase to be his gospel, the good news that he proclaims. This gospel Paul proclaims is one that leads a person not only to follow a new way, but to live a new life all because of, and in imitation of, Jesus Christ. It is a message worth suffering for and one that pushes Paul to speak out again and again. It's a message so wonderful, so life-giving, that it cannot be contained. Timothy, like Paul, is to make this the center of all his preaching. For this gospel, to "remember" is more than a simple calling to mind. That is mere recollection. To remember makes the past effective in the present. To remember puts us right into the action, which, though it happened ages ago, is an ongoing participation in God's love and care and it involves our choosing to follow a new way.

When we remember in the way Paul talks about, it's more than an intellectual exercise; it’s truly following a new way of thought and of life. In fact, Paul models it for us, because he gives of himself unselfishly for the sake of others, for their salvation. By doing this he remembers the unselfish love of Jesus Christ and makes it present through his person. This is what every Christian is called to do: to remember and to make God's love in Christ real for the world continuing to make present the new way Jesus taught and lived by our own following, teaching and living of that way.

For some reason we don't remember as we should, rather we forget. For centuries Christian teachers, preachers and theologians have forgotten the reality of remembrance and focused instead on abstractions. It's obviously been a problem for a long time because Paul tells Timothy, "avoid wrangling over words, which does no good but only ruins those who are listening." In other words, we should get past useless controversy that divides and seek instead to remember the Living Lord who has shown us the new way of love and of unselfish service. We simply cannot forget Jesus and God's work through him, nor can we reduce him to some sort of abstraction. The Lord is alive, present, and active in the midst of his gathered people. And, he stands in our midst day-by-day inviting us, as he did those who heard him long ago, to follow him.

Those who heed his invitation to follow this new way of loving service also understand that the Lord is present to them right here and right now. His invitation and our response cause us to seek to live lives that are transformed by his presence, learning that the process of transformation is life-long. To remember Jesus Christ is to come to recognition of who the Lord really is. The ten lepers came to him calling for help through their pain, their alienation, and their need. They came, as many come even to this day, because they have nowhere else to turn. Like the old saying goes, "there are no atheists in foxholes." However, skeptics are born the minute the shooting stops! Ten came in need, seeking healing and they all received it. However, only one realized who Jesus really was, remembered and returned to offer thanksgiving and worship, to come and follow a new way that leads to healing and wholeness at many levels beyond skin-deep.

Storyteller and theologian John Shea makes a powerful observation about this gospel story. He writes, “One out of ten is reminiscent of the sweeping woman who seeks one lost coin of a hundred (Luke 15:3-10). However, those stories symbolize the divine passion to seek what is lost. In this story, it is not a matter of the divine love in Jesus going after one. It is a matter of only one returning to acknowledge the divine love in Jesus. When these stories are put together, they reflect Luke’s theological vision. God is relentlessly pursuing humans who are relentlessly running away.” [The Relentless Widow, p. 285] From Genesis on, I think, we see exactly what Shea says is Luke’s theological vision: God seeking after his creation and his creation running the other way! The incredible thing is that God never gives up and that, dear ones, is how we come to have the wondrous new way to which we are called.

So, out of the ten only one got it and he wasn't one of the 'chosen people,' one of the ones who should have remembered. No, he was a Samaritan. All through the Gospel it's made clear that coming to recognize the Lord isn't a birthright, it comes from an encounter and a response, from heeding the invitation to walk a new way. Sometimes when we make the response, it's going to go against the way things have always been, because the way we’re called to follow is new and often difficult. Samaritans aren't supposed to come to salvation, but this one did. So we are reminded here that we are to take personal responsibility for our faith and reminded that God's love is broadly inclusive -- there's room for everyone in God's house.

We’re also reminded that we do have to make a choice. Frost’s narrator stood in the woods and pondered two equally pleasant ways and then chose one. Later in life he supposes he’ll look back and reflect that the way he chose “made all the difference.” For the one who seeks to follow the new way God reveals in Jesus Christ that is most certainly true. Ultimately what we’re being called upon to do is to leave our way of seeing and acting in the world and to follow God’s way. God’s way has been shown to us in the life and the teaching of Jesus Christ, who calls us to do what? In Luke’s gospel we read, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.” [Luke 10:27] To follow a new way is to live a life of loving service, remembering who we are and Whose we are at every moment of the day. It means looking down the road of life, examining our situation and making the choice to be God’s people and to follow God’s way and not our own. This is a great deal more than the fractured wisdom of Yogi Berra, the pride of the “Hill District” in South Saint Louis, who once said: “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.” More accurately, it’s remembering God’s invitation and choosing to follow God’s new way.

Remembering is a powerful and important thing. I am reminded of Marcel Proust's Remembrance of Things Past. It is a massive, and often obscure, work and is all set-off by remembering the distinctive taste of a little cake, a 'madeleine.' Frost’s poem was born of his remembering a friend’s indecisiveness and pondering the effects making choices have on us. The choice we are called to make is simply this, to remember Jesus Christ and in that remembering discover who we really are, following a new way. "Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendant of David." There's more than a catch phrase there, more than a rallying cry, in those words are the making of relationships with God and with others who come to remember and then go about following a new way of seeing and being in the world.

"Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendant of David.” It may not be Madison Avenue, it may not spark the popular culture, but it does put us in touch with the Living God. -- remember that. Heed Jesus’ invitation to follow a new way of loving God and neighbor and I will be so bold to say that you will not look back with the hint of irony we read in Frost’s final stanza (“I shall be telling this with a sigh/ Somewhere ages and ages hence”). Rather, in remembering Jesus Christ, remembering and living his new way will lead us down a road that will, indeed, make all the difference for us and for those around us. Remember Jesus Christ and follow a new way.