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.
That’s the last stanza of Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken.” It begins, as you know, with “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood.” It is, in part, about a choice. As is much of life, it seems. And it is those choices that provide the content of our character. Even Dumbledore tells young Harry Potter that it isn’t our abilities that define us, it is our choices.
Knowing all of that, we still wonder whether we really do have choices. I don’t mean the normal day to day stuff, what will we eat and what will we wear. We aren’t worrying about that stuff anymore - thank you Jesus! But I mean the big picture stuff. The what is going to happen to us stuff. The ‘is life going to difficult or easy’ stuff. Are bad things going to happen to good people stuff. That’s the kind of thing I mean. It seems like we don’t have choices too often. Or that we get to pick the little stuff, but the big stuff, the hurricane and earthquake stuff, thief in the night stuff, the ‘why me, Lord’ stuff, just happens.
Or maybe I’m just having a week of feeling swept away by the stuff that happens through no fault of my own. Maybe I’m just seeing a lack of choices. Maybe one too many person has said to me “You’ve got to do something” and I can’t figure out anything to do to address the circumstance. Maybe choices have run out, or have not worked out, or are played out.
Matthew 7:13-29 "Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. 14 For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it. 15 "Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. 16 You will know them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles? 17 In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. 18 A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. 19 Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. 20 Thus you will know them by their fruits. 21 "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. 22 On that day many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?' 23 Then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.' 24 "Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. 25 The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. 26 And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. 27 The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell-- and great was its fall!" 28 Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, 29 for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.
Is it that there are just so dang many gates that we are overwhelmed into inactivity? Or is it that we just can’t seem to find that gate - narrow or wide? We just stumble along and suddenly begin to wonder how we got down this road, how we got into this circumstance. Plus, if you notice, it isn’t just a gate, it isn’t just a one time choice. There is a gate and a road, it is a lifetime of choices. And not easy ones - the gate is narrow and the road is hard.
Sigh. So, what do we do when we can’t figure something out? Move on. After the whole gate/road choice thing, Jesus talks about fruit. And here is where it seems to get messy. The gate is a choice, the fruit is an inevitable outcome. Some are just thorny, others are grape-y. There are good folks and bad folks, it is just the way it is. So, these verses are just a word of comfort saying that the bad folks will get theirs one day, harvest day, tree cutting day. Timber-r-r-r. Well, we’ll say, they deserved it. Just a bad tree all along. No choice.
Really? From fruit we move on to facial recognition. As in Jesus says to some - I don’t know you. Again, it seems arbitrary. These folks are in worship, or worshiping in some form. “Lord, Lord!” They are doing deeds of power, they are proclaiming truth, they are chasing demons. Wow, and Jesus says “Sorry, not making the connection, not ringing a bell,” as the door to heaven swings shut. Whew. Hard stuff.
Finally, he says build your house. Live your life, make your choices, walk the path, the narrow path of obedience to the Word. But why? Maybe I’m just a bad tree. Maybe I’m just one of those unrecognizable ones upon whom Jesus draws a blank. Why bother? Maybe we are just out of luck.
Jesus rarely, if ever, wants to talk to us about luck. Or about the raw deal life handed us. Instead it seems to be about choosing. But not as a simple, one off, flip the switch and everything will go well with you from here on out. Rather he wants to talk to us about following. In the big things and the small ones. In the automatic, just do it things and the gut wrenching, agonizing over for days at a time things as well.
He wants us to choose to follow in the ways that reroute our root system so that whatever kind of tree we have been, we can now become one that produces the fruit that gives sustenance and sweetness to any and all we encounter.
And he wants us to choose to grow in faith, by exercising not deeds of power, but acts of service and sacrifice. That’s who he will recognize, the ones who act like him. The ones who look like him, bent down to help one who has fallen, offering words of comfort and healing, always ready to give God praise for everything.
So, we’re in the building business, which is the choosing business, and there is a storm coming. Because there is always a storm coming. And we can hear these words as a warning, build right or there is trouble ahead. Or we can hear them as a word of comfort, you can survive the storm. Even the ones that never seem to end, even the ones that beat on the walls, even the ones where the wind pounds and the floods rise. You can stand in the storm. The storm still raging right now, or the one just beyond even the doppler radar. You can stand.
Two roads diverge in a yellow wood, or in your neighborhood, or in the darkness of your sitting room. And one is well traveled, the one of getting back or getting even, the one of clinging to rights, the one that makes you feel good for the moment.
But there is one less traveled by, a road of grace and hope, a road of sacrifice and service, a road that embraces the life giver and the light of the world, a road of a deeper contentment and a more profound joy, even as it wounds the heart on a regular basis because of such indiscriminate loving. And yet, the promise remains, both now and 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.
Shalom,
Derek
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—/ I took the one less traveled by, /
And that has made all the difference.
That’s the last stanza of Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken.” It begins, as you know, with “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood.” It is, in part, about a choice. As is much of life, it seems. And it is those choices that provide the content of our character. Even Dumbledore tells young Harry Potter that it isn’t our abilities that define us, it is our choices.
Knowing all of that, we still wonder whether we really do have choices. I don’t mean the normal day to day stuff, what will we eat and what will we wear. We aren’t worrying about that stuff anymore - thank you Jesus! But I mean the big picture stuff. The what is going to happen to us stuff. The ‘is life going to difficult or easy’ stuff. Are bad things going to happen to good people stuff. That’s the kind of thing I mean. It seems like we don’t have choices too often. Or that we get to pick the little stuff, but the big stuff, the hurricane and earthquake stuff, thief in the night stuff, the ‘why me, Lord’ stuff, just happens.
Or maybe I’m just having a week of feeling swept away by the stuff that happens through no fault of my own. Maybe I’m just seeing a lack of choices. Maybe one too many person has said to me “You’ve got to do something” and I can’t figure out anything to do to address the circumstance. Maybe choices have run out, or have not worked out, or are played out.
Matthew 7:13-29 "Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. 14 For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it. 15 "Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. 16 You will know them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles? 17 In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. 18 A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. 19 Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. 20 Thus you will know them by their fruits. 21 "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. 22 On that day many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?' 23 Then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.' 24 "Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. 25 The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. 26 And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. 27 The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell-- and great was its fall!" 28 Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, 29 for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.
Is it that there are just so dang many gates that we are overwhelmed into inactivity? Or is it that we just can’t seem to find that gate - narrow or wide? We just stumble along and suddenly begin to wonder how we got down this road, how we got into this circumstance. Plus, if you notice, it isn’t just a gate, it isn’t just a one time choice. There is a gate and a road, it is a lifetime of choices. And not easy ones - the gate is narrow and the road is hard.
Sigh. So, what do we do when we can’t figure something out? Move on. After the whole gate/road choice thing, Jesus talks about fruit. And here is where it seems to get messy. The gate is a choice, the fruit is an inevitable outcome. Some are just thorny, others are grape-y. There are good folks and bad folks, it is just the way it is. So, these verses are just a word of comfort saying that the bad folks will get theirs one day, harvest day, tree cutting day. Timber-r-r-r. Well, we’ll say, they deserved it. Just a bad tree all along. No choice.
Really? From fruit we move on to facial recognition. As in Jesus says to some - I don’t know you. Again, it seems arbitrary. These folks are in worship, or worshiping in some form. “Lord, Lord!” They are doing deeds of power, they are proclaiming truth, they are chasing demons. Wow, and Jesus says “Sorry, not making the connection, not ringing a bell,” as the door to heaven swings shut. Whew. Hard stuff.
Finally, he says build your house. Live your life, make your choices, walk the path, the narrow path of obedience to the Word. But why? Maybe I’m just a bad tree. Maybe I’m just one of those unrecognizable ones upon whom Jesus draws a blank. Why bother? Maybe we are just out of luck.
Jesus rarely, if ever, wants to talk to us about luck. Or about the raw deal life handed us. Instead it seems to be about choosing. But not as a simple, one off, flip the switch and everything will go well with you from here on out. Rather he wants to talk to us about following. In the big things and the small ones. In the automatic, just do it things and the gut wrenching, agonizing over for days at a time things as well.
He wants us to choose to follow in the ways that reroute our root system so that whatever kind of tree we have been, we can now become one that produces the fruit that gives sustenance and sweetness to any and all we encounter.
And he wants us to choose to grow in faith, by exercising not deeds of power, but acts of service and sacrifice. That’s who he will recognize, the ones who act like him. The ones who look like him, bent down to help one who has fallen, offering words of comfort and healing, always ready to give God praise for everything.
So, we’re in the building business, which is the choosing business, and there is a storm coming. Because there is always a storm coming. And we can hear these words as a warning, build right or there is trouble ahead. Or we can hear them as a word of comfort, you can survive the storm. Even the ones that never seem to end, even the ones that beat on the walls, even the ones where the wind pounds and the floods rise. You can stand in the storm. The storm still raging right now, or the one just beyond even the doppler radar. You can stand.
Two roads diverge in a yellow wood, or in your neighborhood, or in the darkness of your sitting room. And one is well traveled, the one of getting back or getting even, the one of clinging to rights, the one that makes you feel good for the moment.
But there is one less traveled by, a road of grace and hope, a road of sacrifice and service, a road that embraces the life giver and the light of the world, a road of a deeper contentment and a more profound joy, even as it wounds the heart on a regular basis because of such indiscriminate loving. And yet, the promise remains, both now and 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.
Shalom,
Derek
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