March 1, 2026 · Rev. Derek van Gulden · Psalm 37:23-27; Isaiah 55:1-9
In a Lenten series on the Camino de Santiago, Rev. Derek van Gulden reflects on journeying together, whether on foot, by canoe or by Zoom, and reads the Pilgrim's Prayer, carried in a plastic bag down the Allagash: if I have not discovered the freedom to be myself, I have arrived nowhere.
Transcript
People of God, would you join me in a moment of prayer? Gracious and holy God, this morning and 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.
That little part at the end that I know I say every week. And sometimes people say, I get too repetitive and I don't apologize for that. But that little part of in every step. As we've mentioned, and you see it throughout our bulletin, we are on a journey together and we are journeying the way. We'll show the movie later because there is a, a movie, but the way is the Camino de Santiago. It's one of the oldest or it is the oldest Christian pilgrimage. And there are people here in this congregation that have walked the whole thing. Some of us have walked a little pieces of it, but we're using this as a guide. To show us how to share with each other how we journey on a pilgrimage.
Today's scripture for me is calling us when we're on these journeys, no matter where it is, no matter how you go. Land in your neighborhood, by sea, by air, wherever or by Zoom, because we can do that. And we do have people. I'll ask Dan if Judith is joining us today. I talked to her yesterday. Judith's a friend of mine who lives in Kenya, in Nairobi. And Paul, Paul is always here with us. I've known Paul since I was in my early twenties. I won't share the things we did together, but we met in college.
But during our walk in the scripture, we heard the things we are supposed to be doing. And I believe that when we journey and we journey with God, that we journey with love. Because peace can have peace. Without love, without listening, without hard work.
I want to read you a prayer. It's by an unknown author, at least to me, unknown author. It's one I carried with me on a couple of my pilgrimages. The last one was three years ago on a sabbatical. I had my youngest son and I traveled by water. We canoed the Allagash waterways, and I kept this in a little Ziploc plastic bag because I knew I'd end up in the water And he tells all his friends, yeah, my pop is it in the canoe? And he's just floating. We tipped once in rapids and we argue over whose fault it is, but this survived. It's called the Pilgrims Prayer and I love it. Although I may have traveled all the roads across mountains and valleys from east to west, if I have not discovered the freedom to be myself, I have arrived nowhere. Although I may have shared all of my possessions with people of other languages and cultures, made friends with pilgrims of a thousand paths, or shared with the saints and princesses. I am not capable if I am not capable of forgiving my neighbor tomorrow. I have arrived nowhere. Words for the journey. Amen.