By Another Road

Text: Matthew 2:1-12

How do you respond when your life is interrupted by unexpected events? What helps you keep going?

Many of us have been disturbed by what happened on Capital Hill in the US last Wednesday. It was hard to watch how the rioters seized the symbol of democracy. It was as if they were on a holy mission, except that they were serving Herod. The crowd was acting like a cult. Throughout history, people with blind faith have always been a threat to humanity. Sadly, that has not changed. So, the event was a wake-up call. We must continue to discern our paths, values, and principles so we can be part of the solution to the cries of the world, not adding to the pain. It was equally disturbing to see how the police responded – the clear contrast compared to their response against Black Lives Matter protesters. We have been exposed to deep-seated systemic racism and white privilege. None of this was new. The world saw what can happen when those who benefit from the system try to hold on to their power and privilege.

Interruptions can happen on every level – on a global level such as the pandemic, on a national level, on a community, family, and personal level.

I woke up at 7 O’clock in the morning on December 29th, 2020. It was just like any other mornings, nothing special, except that I saw three missed calls on my phone. Those were international phone calls from my mother in Korea. That was strange. My mother never phones me that early at Winnipeg time. And if I couldn’t answer the phone, she never called me again right away. But she tried to reach me three times in a row in less than 5 minutes. So, I called my mother right away, wondering what kind of news I was going to hear. I didn’t expect good news, and my heart was pounding. I heard her phone ring once… twice…where was she? What was going on?...three times, then my mother picked up the phone, and told me without any hesitation, “Your father went to heaven today.” Her words came to me like a bolt out of the blue. Both of us remained silent for a few moments. We exchanged a few words, comforting each other, and then we hung up the phone.

Every loss requires acknowledgement and grief. We just can’t skip the grieving process however difficult it may be, and however long it would take. Every grief is unique as the person who is grieving, and unique as the person who has died. Grief takes many forms: guilt, anger, denial, anxiety, sadness, numbness, emptiness, and longing. It changes us. I didn’t know what kind of grief I would go through until it actually started. This grief is unique, different from many other griefs I had previously experienced.

I grieve the missed opportunity to show my father where I live and work – how I made my home here in Canada. I grieve the missed opportunity to express myself, how I wish he had been there for me when I needed him. I grieve the missed opportunity to say goodbye to my father and to say how much I loved him despite his absence and our estranged relationship. I also grieve over not being able to be with my family in Korea. That is the hardest part - that I can’t be with those who are most affected by this loss! I have been away for a long time, but the physical distance never changed the emotional closeness.

My grief journey over the loss of my father has just begun, and it will take a lifetime. I have been intentional about attending to my emotions. I wrote a letter to my father as if I were talking to him in person. It didn’t come easy, but I am glad that I was able to get my feelings off my chest. While the private funeral service was taking place in Korea, my immediate family and I gathered around candles remembering my father and his legacy. I made a special dish, Korean noodle soup in memory of my father. The food brought me a rare and precious memory that I spent time with him. I walk in nature more than ever to feel close to God. I am learning to be gentle with my soul, and be kind to myself, lessons that I learned the hard way. I am learning to allow myself to be held by the beauty that surrounds me, and by the prayers that support me. Thank you for holding me in your thoughts and prayers.

I have now joined those who have not been able to say goodbye to their loved ones during the COVID-19 pandemic. My life has been interrupted by the sudden death of my father. It makes me realize that life has so many interruptions. We cannot change what happens to us, but we can choose how to respond to it. That still gives me hope. So many people’s lives have been interrupted by the virus, by losing jobs, their loved ones, and connections to their communities. Whenever there is an interruption, it changes our direction. We cannot go back to how things were before. Some do go back to the way things were before, or what they think those ways are; but that is a dead-end. Instead, we can only continue our journey by taking another way. The pandemic shows us who we really are; we are dependent on each other more so than we like to admit. We are also facing the hard truth, how our society is unequal and unjust based on income, education, age, and race. The question is whether we are willing to take another road - the road that will lead us to more just, inclusive, and compassionate communities.

The journey of the wise ones is always fascinating to me. So much is unknown about this famous pilgrimage: who they were, where they came from, what compelled them to set off the journey, how long it took, and how they calculated direction and distance. Despite the challenges they might have faced – unexpected weather, uncertain future, conflict among the team, lack of food and shelter, and the threat of Herod – they continued their journey. I wonder if they ever wanted to give up their journey, and simply return to the safety and familiarity of their homeland. It took more than curiosity or wanderlust to set off on such a long journey. It took more than watching and following the star to know the direction. The star was a visible sign of the invisible calling from God. Without God’s calling, they would not have set off on their journey. Without painstaking discernment and vigilance, they could have lost their way. Without God’s intervention, they might have believed Herod’s sweet talk and aided his ruthless plan. We see how a faith journey is unfolding through continuous collaboration between God and us, the travelers. Their journey was interrupted by the unexpected event. The interruption, however, couldn’t stop their journey. It could only change the direction. They went home by taking another road, which led them to save the life.

We set off on our journey of faith because we heard God’s calling. Maybe, for some of us, we join a community of faith, hoping to hear God’s calling. Along the way, we face many barriers, and the road is always unpredictable. We can’t assume that the next step will be the same as the last. We are tempted to avoid any risky roads. The hard truth is that our journey is made up of so many unexpected events. The interruption can make us hold on to the way things are. Or it can change our direction, to the road less travelled but can lead us to make all the difference.