Navigating an Uncertain Path

 Navigating an Uncertain Path

Jeremiah 6:16; Hebrews 12:12-14 GNT; Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken"

A Meditation delivered electronically by Rev. Dr. Randy K. Hammer, Nov. 15, 2020

Several years ago, when our daughter Kristin was still in high school, she, Mary Lou and I took an autumn Saturday to spend the day at Fall Creek Falls State Park.  We left the car at the park lodge and took a long hike across the park to the waterfall.  We lingered, and it was up in the afternoon when we left the waterfall, and as we were starting back to the lodge, dusk was approaching.  As we hiked back, we came to a place in the woods where the path we were on split and went two different ways.  Someone had removed the sign which should have given directions – one way to the lodge, and the other way, well, who knew where?  So, there we were, in the woods, with dusk approaching, and without clear directions, and without any type of light, facing the decision of which path we should take. 

Finding yourself faced with two diverging, unmarked paths can be disconcerting; a bit unnerving, even.  What if I take the wrong path that leads me in the opposite direction of where I want or need to go?  What if the path I choose takes me to a dead end and I have to turn around and backtrack?  What if darkness overtakes me, and I’m left trying to find my way over dangerous terrain?  You don’t really know which way you should turn.

Robert Frost, in one of his most beloved poems (and one of my personal favorites), which is apropos for this season in a number of ways, speaks of being faced with the decision of which path or road to take when the way before him diverged in two different directions.  For a time he stood and deliberated which way he should go.  A lot of literary criticism ink has been spilled in efforts to pinpoint the possible paths in his own life that Frost was making reference to, but it doesn’t really matter.  Because the universal truth of the poem is that all of us, throughout our lives, are faced with diverging paths, decisions we have to make about the path we are going to travel in life.  I’ve been there many times – stood where the road I was traveling in life diverged into two or more possible directions – and I had to make a decision as to which one I would pursue. 

Likely, you have stood at diverging paths in life as well.  Choosing which path to pursue is not easy.  You don’t know what is just around the bend in either alternative.  And after you make your choice, you may second guess yourself and always wonder about “the road not taken.”

Well, in another sense, such has sort of been our experience these past few months – all of us have been faced with unknown paths of such that have left us disoriented, perplexed, disconcerted.   We are living through the worst pandemic the world has seen since 1918 which has left us bewildered as to the courses of action we should take.  We have endured the most contentious presidential campaign of our lifetime which has left us distraught over the vast divide in our nation and feeling helpless as to what path we can take to respond and make a difference. 

The Hebrew prophet Jeremiah spoke of a people standing at a crossroads.  Jeremiah encouraged his people to return to “the ancient paths” and to seek “the best road” and “walk in it.”  In other words, he was calling his people to return to their covenantal responsibilities and relationship with God, to choose the way of life, the way of love and obedience to the Law of Moses that had shown them the best way to live, yet the way they had abandoned.  Jeremiah was calling his people back to their better self.

Biblical commentator and Princeton University Old Testament professor Patrick D. Miller says of this passage, “The call to look to the ancient paths in order to find the good way suggests the importance of the community’s living by its story . . . That becomes especially crucial if the community has lost its way and is unsure or if it has, in fact, chosen to do down paths that lead to destruction.  How does one know?” Miller asks.  And then he encourages, “Read and tell the story.  Recall the things that worked and did not in the past. . . . The good way is not difficult to identify if we pay attention to the story that has brought us to this point.”¹  There is so much in those few sentences that seem extremely relevant and important for today.

Yes, sometimes in life we find ourselves standing at a crossroads, realizing that we have strayed from the best path, strayed from principles that we know deep in our hearts are right and good, strayed from our better self.  And something happens to jolt us and we realize it is time to return to our story, to our true self, and the path we know we should have been following all along.  Many would say this is something that has occurred in America of late – that as a nation we are being called back to our tried and true story and to a better self.

The author of the New Testament book of Hebrews in a similar way encouraged his readers to “keep walking on the straight paths.”  But as I looked at these two passages side by side, I realized that the common reference in them and the common association with finding the right path is the concept of peace.  Seeking, finding, and choosing to walk in the right path will lead to peace – internal, personal peace of the individual soul, and peace with others, in society and the world.  If the paths we have chosen in our personal lives and in our nation do not lead to a sense of soul peace or national peace, is it not questionable as to whether we have chosen the right path?

Yes, in so many ways of late we have found ourselves faced with an uncertain path, or faced with a decision regarding one or more unknown paths.  It behooves us as individuals, and it behooves us as a nation, to look deep within ourselves and make sure that we are on the path that is true and right, the path that connects us to our story and true and best self, the path that leads to peace.  May it be so.  Amen.

1Patrick D. Miller, The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. VI.  Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2001, p. 631.