February 22, 2026 · Rev. Derek van Gulden · Psalm 1; Luke 3:21; Luke 4:1-13
On the first Sunday of Lent, with Jesus in the wilderness, Rev. Derek van Gulden opens an old Kenya journal: a lay bishop who carried Jesse Jackson's 'Keep hope alive' on his journey, and a teenage granddaughter who pointed out that we already have all we need for ours. We're each somebody, and each responsible for keeping hope alive.
Transcript
Friends, will you join me in a moment of prayer? Gracious and holy God, on this day, in this moment, I ask you to move the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts by your love, and help me this day not to be the instrument of my own or anyone else's oppression, but to be an instrument of peace in every step, in every breath, in every moment of every day. Amen.
Every lent. The scripture you just heard is one that we hear sometimes not. But it's Jesus going into the wilderness for forty days and how he overcame those things that the devil set before him. Now none of us are Jesus, and I'm not sure any of us would have been able to overcome the things that the devil set before Jesus. But certainly in our own wilderness journeys, because I believe there are times throughout our lives where we find ourselves in the wilderness for one reason or another in those journeys. To get through, we do need some form of faith, some form of support. Journeying with somebody else is a great way to do it. Even when you think, how can I share my journey? Someone won't understand it. Maybe they will. Maybe they need to take that journey with you as well. Journeying with multiple people as we will do through lent together. And listening. To those around you, to God speaking to you through prayer and through people you meet or the parts of creation you walk through are a great way to do it.
Thank you for using that Kenyan prayer this week. While Sarah and I were been going through stuff and you go, oh, I've got to keep that. Well, you haven't seen it in twenty years, but it's really important. I came across one of my journals from Kenya, I think it was the second time I went. It was after the fall after I graduated from seminary, and I invited one of my sisters, Stephanie, to join me, and we went for three and a half weeks. And as always, it was wonderful. As always, it's a challenge. But it was fun to have my sister with me. Fun to watch her see and experience a lot of the stuff I did. And there were also times when we did stuff separately.
I've mentioned before that there are three. Well, they were young women when I met them. They were twelve, thirteen and fifteen, and they were half orphans. Their parents had both died in the Aids pandemic, but their grandparents on their mom's side was still alive. And so they had a place to stay. When I met them, they slept on bunk beds without mattresses. Do you remember those metal bunk beds with the springs? That I never understood how they did it.
Before I left, I got them mattresses, but one of the things I really enjoyed, not just visiting them where they lived, was being able to visit their grandparents. Their grandmother had been a caterer throughout her life, and she retired and their grandfather. When I met him, I was a bit overwhelmed because he was a lay bishop for music for the Diocese of Maseno North in the Anglican Church of Kenya. Now, having gone to an Episcopal seminary pretty quick, I learned what a bishop was, but I'd never let a lay bishop. And he went from congregation to congregation, brought them new music, worked with them on different types of music. He would find ways to get them instruments, sometimes as simple as a drum, sometimes a harmonica, sometimes a guitar, sometimes other things. And I became very fond of him, and I believe he was fond of me. And what he loved doing the most when we were together was pulling out a book that he'd been reading and sharing with me. And usually they were books of faith or music.
And there was one time I sat down with him and he said, do you know the Reverend Jesse Jackson? I said, well, I know who he is, but I've never met him. Have you read or listened to his sermons, his speeches? And I said, I have listened to some. He said, have you heard his phrase? Keep hope alive? That's actually one of his speeches, I believe, when he was running for president the first time, probably the second time as well, because he did twice. And he said, this is something I have found that I keep so close to me on my journey, because that simple phrase reminds me that I'm responsible to help keep hope alive as you are responsible and you are responsible, and we're all responsible to keep hope alive. Even those moments when we may not feel there's any hope, there's somebody that will remind you some time on your journey that you will walk into something in the created world and you will go. There is hope.
And I learned that firsthand from his granddaughter, Judith. Judith sometimes joins us from London. She is moving from London back to western Kenya, where her grandparents lived. They both passed in the last few years. And she they live in a place called Luanda. And when I met Judith, she was fifteen. Her daughter, her daughter, her sister Maureen was thirteen. And their cousin Winnie, I believe, was twelve.
And Judith would take walks with me. And one day she looked at me and she said, they call me Papa. She said, Papa, you probably have a number of TVs in your house. I said, no, we've only ever had one, but it's one of those big ones and it comes in color. I said, when I grew up, it was black and white and it was about this big. She said, but you have a car. I said, yes, I have a car and you have a house. I said, yes, I have a house and it's warm and it protects you. I said, yes. She says, and you know, from being in Kenya before that, a lot of us don't have any of those things.
When I met them, they had. Two sets of clothes, one of them that they shared. To go to school, you had to have a school uniform, which you had to pay for. And if you didn't have a school uniform, you weren't allowed to go to school. Maureen and Judith had their school uniform, and then they shared a dress that they took turns wearing to church on Sundays. They rotated. And they didn't have any shoes to wear with the dress because most people had flip flops or went barefoot. I remember asking them if I could buy them some shoes and they went running shoes and I looked at them. And what about your dress? They will go perfect and we will get to church quicker than we usually do.
But Judith, one day when we were out for a long, long walk, looked at me and said, one day, you know, Papa, we know that you have so much in America. And we don't here, but we have all we need for our journey. And you do too. And I hope you realize that. I was like, I had a backpack with me. I always had a rucksack. I was trying to figure out if she was trying to see if I would buy her a Marina rucksack for their schoolbooks or whatever. She goes, no, that's not it, but it would be nice. She said at the very end. When our time comes, we will have the same thing you do, and we have that through life now. Just some people don't realise it. And that is the grace of God, the love of Christ Jesus, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit to walk with us on this journey.
Now listen, Papa, you may not know this, but this is true. And then she looked embarrassed and said, I'm sorry. I know you just got ordained, but do you know this? And I had to admit that I Never looked at it that way. She said, we have all we need. You have all you need. You just have a bunch of extra stuff.
So the journeys I have taken since then, Sarah and I have gone to a few places, walked part of the Camino, been to Cuba, but other journeys I have taken alone. I always write that in the front of my journal. Keep hope alive. Whether it's for myself or for others.
And the other thing that I love reading about Jesse Jackson over the last week more. I remember watching his speeches with my parents. And he said something, and I don't know if I ever get it right. I am somebody, and I'm always confused if he's saying I am somebody or you are somebody. Powerful words. I'd love to hear more of that from people today.
Keep hope alive. I am somebody. We're all somebody. And we do that journey together. And we do it together so we can remind ourselves of those things. And if sometimes we wonder, where is the hope you are bringing the hope the person next to you is bringing the hope when you don't feel like you have any hope. That's where it comes from. And sometimes it's good to remind people and ourselves we're all somebody. May you listen to these words as we journey through these forty days and nights together and keep hope alive. Amen.