We Can’t Go Alone

In this season of Advent, we are guided by Words of beginning, words that help us mark out the journey and take a step out the door, together, towards the home God has called us to. Is it a physical journey? Yes, sometimes. This journey to the dawning of the Christmas light will move us to get up, out the door, and onward from our places of stability and complacency. It is physical in that we are invited to move our bodies closer to Jesus, drawing near in expectation to his arrival. It is physical in that we must get up, walk, and leave behind what we no longer need. And this physical journey is one in which we must accompany each other, walk alongside, and offer support, courage, and commitment. People of God, will you walk together, journeying in communion with one another, as we all move towards God’s presence?

Our texts today are a little different than what we typically expect at Advent. The lose physical tie is that today’s story begins in Bethlehem, at least as a starting point. We will hear the narrative of Ruth, the Moabite, and Naomi, her mother-in-law. This unlikely pair show us a story of God’s faithfulness that extends beyond the boundaries of nationality, ethnicity, and blood. In the second week of Advent, we speak of peace — today’s readings guide us to the way of peace in our relationships, our deep connections, with our dear friends.

Before I read our sermon scripture, I want to invite you into another mental exercise this week. Last week, I had you think of words, nicknames, dear family names that you were called when you were younger. Our guiding theme last week was to remember that we, each, are a blessing. Those special names remind us of the title of blessed that we bear. You are a blessing.

Today, I want you to pause, maybe close your eyes, and think again. This time, I want you to think of a person who you hold dear. It may be a partner, a sibling, or a parent. Think of a person who you have walked alongside for a season of your life, perhaps for many seasons of your life. A dear friend, someone closer than a brother. A partner in business, perhaps, but the kind of partner who is more than a partner, but rather a dear, dear comrade.

Hold that person in your mind. If you’re having trouble picking, simply choose someone that you’ve shared a good deal of life with. Someone who you’ve journeyed with.

Say their name in your mind. Picture them.

Somewhere along your journey, God wove your stories together. Like stitches on a quilt, you cross and weave and work in tandem to make the whole. Our reading from Ecclesiastes is helpful with this exercise: who in your life has been a part of your braided chord?

Friends, we cannot go it alone. The journey is much to perilous. The road is often unmarked or unclear. We need partners and friends and co-laborers to walk alongside. Let’s hear this story from the book of Ruth, where two unlikely women become deep partners in life, journeying together.

Ruth 1 (NRSV)

In the days when the judges ruled, there was a famine in the land, and a certain man of Bethlehem in Judah went to live in the country of Moab, he and his wife and two sons. The name of the man was Elimelech and the name of his wife Naomi, and the names of his two sons were Mahlon and Chilion; they were Ephrathites from Bethlehem in Judah. They went into the country of Moab and remained there. But Elimelech, the husband of Naomi, died, and she was left with her two sons. These took Moabite wives; the name of the one was Orpah and the name of the other Ruth. When they had lived there about ten years, both Mahlon and Chilion also died, so that the woman was left without her two sons and her husband.

Then she started to return with her daughters-in-law from the country of Moab, for she had heard in the country of Moab that the Lord had considered his people and given them food. So she set out from the place where she had been living, she and her two daughters-in-law, and they went on their way to go back to the land of Judah. But Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go back each of you to your mother’s house. May the Lord deal kindly with you, as you have dealt with the dead and with me. The Lord grant that you may find security, each of you in the house of your husband.” Then she kissed them, and they wept aloud. They said to her, “No, we will return with you to your people.” But Naomi said, “Turn back, my daughters, why will you go with me? Do I still have sons in my womb that they may become your husbands? Turn back, my daughters, go your way, for I am too old to have a husband. Even if I thought there was hope for me, even if I should have a husband tonight and bear sons, would you then wait until they were grown? Would you then refrain from marrying? No, my daughters, it has been far more bitter for me than for you, because the hand of the Lord has turned against me.” Then they wept aloud again. Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clung to her.

So she said, “See, your sister-in-law has gone back to her people and to her gods; return after your sister-in-law.” But Ruth said,

“Do not press me to leave you

or to turn back from following you!

Where you go, I will go;

where you lodge, I will lodge;

your people shall be my people,

and your God my God.

Where you die, I will die—

there will I be buried.

May the Lord do thus and so to me,

and more as well,

if even death parts me from you!”

Where you go, I will go.

Friends, we are meant to be people who walk together through this life. Literally, we are walking each other along, all journeying together towards the destination God calls us.

It’s Advent, a time of gathering and anticipation, expectation and celebration. It is a time for us to seek out the light when it feels like it’s really hard to see out there. So, let’s get really practical about what this journeying together means.

We live in an very lonely, isolating world. Study after study, article after article affirms this reality: we have a loneliness epidemic. We know this was exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic. We know this is heightened, as well, because of our nation’s divided political scene. But whatever the cause, the reality is this: we’re lonelier than ever, more disconnected than ever.

So what do we do about this?

As a church, we have a number of strategies for working against this problem, but I have to say they aren’t always even enough.

One of the things we do here at St. James is that we have Deacons. Deacons are ordained members of our community who are called and directed to care for the needs of the hurting, the sick, the poor, and the lonely. They work, in pairs, to oversee a segment of our congregation — we call these parishes. Each person in a parish is checked in on, at least. Many of our deacons send cards to folks on their birthday or bring a meal when there is an illness. This is good, good work. (By the way, if you feel the call to be a deacon, let’s talk after service. I think we need a couple more folks to nominate for the incoming class). And if you have not yet been added to a parish or don’t know who your deacon is, let’s get you signed up. Check the deacon parish lists in the hallway across from the bathrooms. If you’re not on one yet, no worries, we’ll get you added, just tell me or one of our Deacons serving coffee today, that you’d like to be added.

Another thing we do as a church is we pray for each other. We share our needs and we lift them to God, both in worship, and through our email prayer chain. This is another way to stay connected and make sure we work against the loneliness.

Yet another key way we keep connected and supportive is more organic. It’s the friendship that you all establish in your time gathered together here. It’s by spending time together at things like worship or our Advent festival. It’s by showing up that we can become known — we have to step in and make ourselves present, which can be difficult at times, yes, but when we do, we connect and build networks of belonging and care that are often unspoken, but relied upon in times of need.

I want to add a hope to ways we can go along together. My prayer would be that each and every one of us has at least one other person who keeps an eye on them. Think about it like the buddy system. I pray that everyone in this congregation would know that they have a buddy. Do you have a St. James buddy? Someone who you don’t live with who you know will check in on you?

I’ll use an example from recent weeks to illustrate this informal, organic, and vital form of care. Two weeks ago, a few of us were noticing we hadn’t seen one of our members recently, nor heard from them. This member has not been able to drive for a while and so we haven’t seen them in worship. Another member, without being prompted, noticed this too and set about trying to get ahold of the absent member. It turned out they had been hospitalized and needed support. Because one person simply noticed that their pew mate had not been around — and took action to look into it — we all were able to connect and support this ailing member.

Friends, it’s not wild, difficult stuff. This is just about basic noticing and seeing the needs of one another. Do you have someone that you can do this for?

Do you need a buddy? Perhaps you’re worried you don’t have a connection like this and you’re not sure how to get one. Ok, no problem. Let’s talk. I would love to help you find a buddy, a person who you can connect with who will offer mutual support.

Another, practical aside here, too: After service, we will have some drafts of our church directory available for review. We need to make sure we’ve got the most up to date info on y’all that we can print and make available. We need a few of you to have photos taken, so folks can connect names with faces. So, after service, come find our little table downstairs and make sure your info is up to date. That way, your buddy will know how to look after you.

Again, it’s not terribly complicated what I’m talking about here.

How does this all connect? Why is this our Advent Week 2 topic?

Because, friends, we can’t keep walking in the darkness alone. Here, in God’s church, we have to be focused on making sure people are looked after, have friends for the journey, and the support they need. When you make this church your home, you are committing to make each other a priority.

We’re not always good at this and we have lots of ways we can grow.

In times of loneliness, how radical is it for us, the church, to push against the isolation by choosing to stay with one another, support one another, look out for one another?

Think of all the other partnerships we have in the Advent stories, as well as throughout scripture. Mary has her cousin, Elizabeth, to walk with her through pregnancy. Joseph has Mary, the women he is betrothed to, who he doubles-down on his commitment to by virtue of the angels revelation. We have the wise travelers, who together journey to follow the star. Jesus has his disciples, and specifically, Peter, James, and John as partners in ministry. Paul and Silas. Deborah and Gael. David and Jonathan. Friends who are like kin.

The Christ child is born into a world of loneliness, division, and fear. And in this birth, God makes us a promise — you do not walk alone. As the prophet foretold, the people who walked in darkness have seen a light. There is a guide to bring us home, a beacon of hope for times of despair. May we continue to live this way of being — being lights, beacons, for one another, journeying as one people. Where you go, I will go. Where you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people, your God will be my God.