Midnight Ride

George is getting frustrated with me. I have been sporadic at best. Writing blogs has taken a backseat to writing sermons but perhaps I can be forgiven as Lent has appeared in the blink of an eye and I am surrounded by the blanket of wondrous responsibilities of a pastor in the busiest weeks of the year. But, aside from my attempt at proclaiming an excuse, I met with a friend of mine, Karen who told me something truly blogworthy.

April 19, 1775 was a night that still 'rings' with history for the United States. Some historians (especially George who is a government teacher, I think) will remember this as the evening of the midnight ride of Paul Revere. His name, revered (sorry) throughout the centuries as the patriot who warned the Americans that the Redcoats were coming. As told in the story by Henry W. Longfellow in 1860, Revere, through difficulties and darkness, warned the people of Concord and Lexington about the upcoming surge of military men from England. What Wadsworth left out was that Revere was not the only one sent out to Lexington to warned Samuel Adams and John Hancock. There was another man - William Dawes.

Only the stoutest national historians know the name of Will Dawes. A shoemaker in Boston, he was one of the earliest patriots. Sent out on horseback to Lexington, unlike Revere, he took the long way. Then, when near arrest, he was thrown from his horse and escaped on foot. Eventually he reached the towns of Concord and Lexington, but Revere had already been there. Folklore tells us though that William Dawes would not have succeeded anyway. Dawes was not intimately connected with the people like Paul Revere was. Supposedly, Revere was out in the communities all of the time getting to know people, their schedules, their lives. People trusted him. Again, tradition tells us that Dawes did not know the people and when he came to warn people of the approach of the British, they either did not believe him or they did not listen to his voice. So, William Dawes has fallen off the cliff of American history as the silent partner of Paul Revere on his midnight ride from Boston to Lexington.

Perhaps as Christians we can learn a bit from the midnight ride. People trust the voice of a person they know - someone that is intimately involved in their lives. Like Paul Revere, we need to get out into the community and be a part of the lives of our fellow humans - not forcing ourselves, or intruding, but supporting and encouraging others in wending their way through life. If we, as the vocal chords of Jesus, show up simply proclaiming condemnation, or the approach of the end of the world, they either will not believe us, or disregard our voice. We are called to proclaim the Gospel, that the kingdom of God is drawing near, to love even if not loved in return. Then, those that we encounter will trust our voice - they know that we have their best interests in mind.

Jesus speaks these same words in John chapter 10: "The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. the gatekeeper opens the gate for him and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice."

The sheep hear his voice and follow because of his voice, but he does not call from a distance, he enters the pen with them. He calls them from the midst of them and leads them to safety.

This is our calling - our vocation as Christians - to be in the midst of life and be Jesus vocal chords.

A few years ago, I was roused by a phone call. A youth from the church had called to tell the me the worst possible news: a teenager was killed in an automobile accident and the youth were gathering to meet at a house were they could commiserate and lean on each other in their grief. The voice on the phone cracked as she asked if I would come and sit in their midst.

Throwing on some clothes, I headed down to the car and began to drive to their house. What would I say? What could I possibly express to teenagers in the grief of losing a close friend? What if I said something completely asinine and they ended up throwing me out? (I have said some pretty idiotic things before). My worries were unfounded. The youth didn't want me to say anything - they only wanted me to listen and throughout the late night and into the early morning of my own Midnight Ride, those kids shared with me fears, sorrows, joys, loves - every possible human experience. And the word I spoke?

God's word at the end of the night. I got to be God's vocal chords.

What a ride.