“As Jesus walked along, he saw a man blind from birth.  

His disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?’–John 9:1-2

Ten years ago this month, I visited the community where three wonderful chapters of my life began. A few days after our wedding, Lori and I moved to a small town in Kentucky. In the years that followed, our children were born there, too. The reason that community was the location for all three milestones is that it was also where I was ordained to ministry in 1987. In the years since moving away, I had been back three times, the most recent having been seven years earlier.  Yet for reasons I cannot explain, there was a tug for me to go back in 2014 and did so for two days.  

Certainly there are times when the old adage about not being able to go home again are proven true.  That trip, though, turned out to be a rich experience. I had lunch with the newest pastor, a talented young man who had served there for three years. I broke bread with two long-time friends and had great visits with the chair of my Pastor Nominating Committee and the custodian-emeritus, a man who died last year at age 100. It was a nostalgia-filled 48 hours and on my last night, had dinner with a family who continues to have a special place in my heart.

The father was Clerk of Session during our years there and part of my last Sunday as an installed pastor twelve months ago. His wife and he regularly had us over for dinner and provided wonderful guidance as we settled into our new life and roles. Their oldest daughter was 13 years old when we first met and babysat our children. I officiated at her wedding a decade later, and both of her sisters are married as well, adding the joy of grandchildren. All of them live in town. I looked forward to getting caught up, but learned later that my visit had generated some anxiety.         

The Sunday evening before my arrival, the eight adults of that family shared in their traditional dinner together. At it, they began to speculate as to why I was coming back. Apparently, there are some worriers in the group and thus the conversation moved to troubling possible reasons. Among the options considered was that I had a terminal disease, my marriage was over, I was leaving the ministry, or that I was coming to steal their pastor for my staff. One son-in-law said “You surely think highly of yourself to believe John is coming back all this way just to tell you he’s dying.” A daughter added, “He is just making the trip because of how wonderful we are!” Someone else mentioned the hotel where I was staying–quite modest accommodations–which surely indicated I was facing financial trouble. What sealed their concern was the knowledge that the two days before I was to have dinner with all of them, I was dropping by the office of the father to visit. I had never been to his place of work before and he is an attorney who specializes in divorce law.

Given all of that speculation, it was no surprise when he and I saw each other that his first question was “So, what brings you to town?” After learning the truth he exhaled, but then wondered aloud if my unexplained nudge to visit meant that something bad would soon happen to either one of us! We both laughed and enjoyed a great conversation, as always. Just before leaving for home, though, he called his wife to let her know all was fine with the Willinghams. I shared the same word with the whole group at dinner two nights. 

Not all of our questions get answered that easily. Read the ninth chapter of John’s gospel and you’ll see what I mean. Like those who asked Jesus about a tie between sin and blindness, there will be things that happen in this world that defy simple explanation. Like those neighbors who saw one with restored sight and couldn’t even convince each other he was the same man who had begged for help, there will be matters about which we disagree. Like that one who was healed and accurately recalled the step that led to his restored sight there will be events that leave us forever changed. Moment that we appropriately see as clear signs of God’s work even if do not fully understand how or why they occurred.        

Yet thankfully our call as followers of Jesus Christ is not to figure out all the answers and then convince others of our truth. Our call is not to get everything resolved and neatly placed into categories either. Rather, our ongoing mandate as believers is to provide a safe place where faith can take hold and grow, where questions can be asked and some answers found; but also a place where we can simply live with the most challenging questions of life and each other. Trusting that even when all we can say is “I don’t know,” we continue to point ourselves and others toward the One who forever will be the Light of the World.

Creator God, we celebrate the minds you have given that allow us to ask questions and many times gain the insight we need. Help us to stay in community with others in those moments and when the answer proves elusive, too. Amen