I Have No Idea Where I Am Going

July 1, 2014

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

My conclusion to last Sunday’s sermon was nearly an afterthought when I wrote it, but given the response, I’m glad I included it.  Many of you have since requested a copy of the prayer from Thomas Merton that I connected to the advice of Gamaliel in Acts 5.  So, I offer it to you here.

Thomas Merton was a Roman Catholic monk of the Trappist order who wrote over seventy books on the spiritual life.  His autobiography The Seven Storey Mountain was named by National Review as one of the 100 most important books in the century.  It details his remarkable conversion from his teen years as an agnostic to becoming one of the most significant Christian authors of our time. 

I’m not sure when I first read this prayer, which he first wrote as part of his book Thoughts in Solitude in 1954.  But over the past few years, friends have commended the prayer to me, always at a time when it seemed I’ve needed to re-read it the most.  Based on your response last Sunday, I suspect it touches on a universal theme of longing in the midst of confusion, and a desire to do God’s will even when such discernment seems impossible.  It conveys an intimacy with God when God seems most distant, and a depth to the spiritual life when all one has is rote practice.  It is the fusion of these extremes, in creative tension, that has contributed to the power of this prayer for many people:

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

EXPLORING MERTON’S PRAYER

The prayer’s powerful authenticity is evident from its first few lines:  My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end.  This is a remarkable amount of candor coming from one so hallowed as Merton, but it is that honesty that makes this witness so comforting, and so relatable, to the rest of us.  Like Mother Theresa’s Come Be My Light or Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Who am I?, Merton’s prayer gives us permission to reveal our innermost doubts. 

Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.  These words remind me of Paul’s letter to the Philippians, in which he admits that “I want to know Christ.”  He doesn’t say he knows Christ, but that he wants to know Christ.  He doesn’t claim a perfect understanding of the Christian faith, or even states that such knowledge is ultimately and fully possible.  But he believes that his desire to know is in itself pleasing to God.  And it is a good thing that simply having that desire is enough, for sometimes that is all we are capable of offering. 

I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.  Whenever I hear these words, I think of one of my favorite stories in the gospel, involving the father with the demon-possessed child in Mark 9.  When Jesus told the father that “everything is possible for those who believe,” the man replied with similarly stunning candor:  “I believe; help my unbelief.”  Many times, we live with this odd and seemingly untenable juxtaposition between belief and unbelief.  We hold on to whatever strands of belief in Jesus we have, while the gravity of our situation pulls us downward.  But such a moment of tension, while uncomfortable, is stasis nonetheless.  And it can be a time of great strengthening for our spiritual commitments. 

Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.  I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.  It’s hard not to read these words without hearing its echo in the 23^rd Psalm:  though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we do not need to fear, because God is with us.  With all of the uncertainty embedded into this prayer, Merton claims one final, incontrovertible truth:  we are not alone.  God is always with us, even if in moments when God seems absent or distant.  And God will never leave you to face your perils alone.

Perhaps this prayer today comes to you as it has for me in the past:  at precisely the right time, when I have needed it the most.  If so, I am grateful.  As for me, I will be re-reading it a few times myself today.

Grace and Peace,

Magrey

The Rev. Magrey R. deVega

St. Paul's United Methodist Church

531 W. Main St.

Cherokee, IA  51012

Ph:  712-225-3955

Email:  mdevega@sp-umc.org

CHURCH WIDE PICNIC AND POOL PARTY

Once again, we are having a church wide picnic at Gillette Park on Sunday, July 13, from 6:00-8:00pm followed by an exclusive pool party at the Bacon Aquatic Center from 8:00-9:30pm.  Grilled meats and fixings will be supplied.  You are invited to bring your own drinks as well as a side dish or dessert to share.