Last weekend, I was on a prayer retreat, and one of the speakers was describing the spiritual
journey that people make over the course of their lives and how one season of your life
can look so different from another.
And I was reminded of a famous study that explored some of these realities.
It's known as the Grant Study.
In the late 1930s, about 270 or so undergraduates at Harvard were selected to be part of this
massive longitudinal study.
And the ones selected were judged to be among the most well-adjusted, the most likely to
succeed, and they agreed to be poked and prodded and interviewed every single year for the
rest of their lives.
Massive longitudinal study.
And even though their identities were kept secret in recent years, it's come out that
two of those participants in that Harvard study from the late 30s, one went on to be president,
John F.
Kennedy, and the other ended up being the editor of the Washington Post during the Watergate
era, Ben Bradley.
Found out those were two of the study participants.
And as you can imagine, this study has been looked at and written up in books and magazines,
most recently in the Atlantic, seeking to understand the insights and the lessons to be learned.
And here's one of the most surprising lessons, at least for the researchers.
The lives of these young men played out in ways that defied predictability.
Those that started life with certain advantages did not necessarily lead to later success.
And conversely, those who started with certain deficits or who experienced certain defeats along
the way did not necessarily end in failure.
Two examples written up from this study.
One man was especially gifted and grew up in Manhattan as the son of a rich doctor and an artistic mother.
While he was in college, the researchers wrote, perhaps more than any other boy who has been in the grand study,
this participant exemplifies the qualities of a superior personality, stability, intelligence, and good judgment.
Yet, by age 31, for no apparent reason, he developed feelings of bitterness towards the world,
dropped out of the study, and died at a young age.
His life was described by those who knew him as wandering and without purpose.
Another young man in the study was raised in a working class family by what the researchers described
as an angry, alcoholic father and an anxious, irritable mother.
Yet, this man went on to become a national leader in the civil rights movement.
He was loved by his co-workers, and by the time he was in his late 40s,
he was ranked by researchers as among the top fifth in the study with regard to psychological health.
He lived into an old age, and he was celebrated in his obituaries as a hero of the civil rights movement.
Where someone started out was no predictor of where they would end up.
Decades later, the primary researcher reflected that if there was one theme that emerged from the study, it was this.
The course of these people's lives had little to do with how much or how little trouble they encountered,
but how they responded to that trouble.
The study's author writes that this central insight is best captured in the story of a father
who on Christmas Eve puts into one son's stocking an expensive gold watch
and into another son's stocking a pile of horse manure.
The next morning, the first boy comes to his father and says,
Dad, I just don't know what I'll do with this watch.
It's so fragile.
It could break.
The other boy runs to him and says,
Daddy, Daddy, Santa left me a pony.
If only I can just find it.
What is it that causes one person to receive a gold watch
and to respond with fear and caution?
And another to receive something that nobody wants
and yet interpret it in the most positive and constructive of ways.
Psychologists have studied the factors behind the different ways people respond to trouble
and difficulties in life.
And in recent years, they've determined that one of the key factors
is behind how we respond are the stories that we have been told.
The stories that we absorb from the broader culture
and the stories that we tell ourselves to build our identities
and to give us a sense of who we are.
To give just one example, a team at Emory University
studied emotional well-being in children
and they discovered that one of the biggest predictors of emotional health in a child
was the family story they heard growing up.
The researchers noted that all families have a narrative
and they tend to take one of three basic shapes.
The first shape is the ascending family narrative.
We came from nothing.
We worked hard.
We made it big.
And now, Junior, it's your turn.
Another is the descending narrative.
We used to have it all, but then we lost everything.
Life isn't fair and whatever you try probably isn't going to work.
The most helpful narrative, they said, is a third one,
which they called the oscillating family narrative.
That narrative said we've had ups and downs in our family.
We've built a family business.
Your grandfather was a pillar of the community.
Your mother was on the board of the hospital.
But we also had setbacks.
You had an uncle who was once arrested.
You had a house burned down.
Your father lost a job.
But no matter what happened, we persevered and we stuck together.
What are the stories that have shaped your identity,
that have shaped my identity?
We get them from our families, of course.
We also get them from school, from college, from friends, from TikTok.
One way of thinking about this is by asking,
when things are hard, when trouble comes,
what's the story that helps you make sense of it?
In our passage this morning, in our gospel reading from Luke 24,
a group of friends is asking that very question.
Luke 24 is a chapter about disciples trying to make sense of trauma.
Earlier in the chapter, we encounter two disciples
walking along the road to Emmaus and they are distraught.
The person that they loved and followed,
who they thought was going to change everything,
has been crucified and they feel hopeless.
And now in this morning's reading,
another group of disciples have gathered
and they are also trying to make sense of loss
and to process the trauma of Christ's crucifixion.
And in the midst of this gathering,
Jesus suddenly appears.
Verse 37 says,
they are shocked and scared
because they are suddenly confronted
by something that they didn't have a narrative for.
That didn't fit into any of the stories
about how they interpreted reality.
The person that they had watched be executed
and buried in a tomb
is now standing in front of them.
This raw data was important for the disciples
and I think it remains important for us.
Just as the disciples took on board
the reality of Jesus standing before him,
we also will rely on the fact
that at some point in our lives,
we've had an encounter with Jesus.
We've become convinced that Jesus is real,
that he's alive,
and that there is no better teacher,
no safer person.
Or perhaps we haven't yet
had an encounter with Jesus,
but we're moving in that direction.
We're becoming curious about Jesus.
And like the disciples in the room,
we find ourselves becoming open to the fact
that the resurrected Christ might be right here.
The same person who showed the wounds
to his disciples,
who ate some food to prove
that he wasn't just some figment of an imagination
or disembodied spirit
is present and available to us right now.
But notice in the passage,
Jesus does more than just give them himself.
He also gives them a new story
to make sense of their lives.
Verse 45 says that Jesus opened their minds
to reinterpret everything that happened in their past,
to reconsider their experience of loss
and disappointment
through the lens of a different story.
And the new story,
Jesus tells his disoriented disciples
in verse 46 is this.
That the Christ should suffer
and on the third day rise from the dead
and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins
should be proclaimed in his name
to all the nations starting in Jerusalem.
The new story that Jesus gives them,
in other words,
is a story that makes sense of loss
and disappointment and hopelessness.
It's a story of three things.
Cross,
resurrection,
and mission.
Up until this point,
the disciples don't have this as their story.
As Jews,
what they have at this point
is a really confusing family story.
A story of being called by God
to be a light to the nations
and yet failing to live up to that
and worshiping the gods of these other nations instead.
It's a story marked by moments of triumph
with military victories under King David
and fame and riches under King Solomon.
And yet it eventually leads to exile in Babylon.
It's a story of greatness never fully realized,
of hope continuously disappointed.
And theirs is a story that many of us can identify with.
Anyone who has experienced some longings for greatness
not fully realized
or had some hopes disappointed.
But Jesus gives a new story
by which to interpret all of those losses,
cross,
resurrection,
and mission.
The first part of the story is the cross.
Our instinct is to keep the cross
at several degrees
of remove
remove
from us
for it
not to become part of our story.
The cross might be
part of Jesus'
story
and therefore
it's maybe part of my story
in a theological sense
but not in an experiential sense.
Or the cross
might be
part of
say
the martyr's
story.
Someone who suffers
for sharing the gospel
in some
hostile territory.
Or the cross
might be part of
a monk's
story.
A particularly
holy person
dedicated to prayer
and renunciation
of worldly things.
But when Jesus says
the cross
is to become
the interpretive grid
for my story,
for our story,
for everyday
real life,
what does he mean?
A few months ago
I was talking
with a Trappist
monk
who I meet with
on occasion
for spiritual
direction.
We were discussing
humility
as the path
towards
God.
And I commented
on the clear
route
to humility
that he had
as a result
of his monastic
vows.
But when I said
that
he
smiled.
And his
response to me
was to say
that he thought
that his
path to humility
was not
nearly so
strenuous
as those
of us
who are called
to live
in the secular
world.
He said
think about
what humility
a parent learns
when their child
does not obey
them in the way
that they hoped.
or when a
colleague
very subtly
makes you look
bad in front
of your boss.
Or when a
career doesn't
advance
in the way
that you
expected.
Or when
your spouse
doesn't notice
a good deed.
He said
for the person
living in the
world
there are
small experiences
of the cross
of suffering
and sacrifice
that can bring
about humility
every single
day.
And if we
can notice
those moments
and receive
them in that
way
those daily
realities
can form
us into
Christ
just as much
as anything
I do here
in the
monastery.
And so
we might
ask
what
what are
those
points
of
suffering
or
sacrifice
in my
own
life
right
now
even the
very
smallest
things
that I
might
interpret
through the
lens of
the cross.
It doesn't
mean that
I stop
praying for
God to
take those
troubles
to take
that suffering
away because
God is never
the author
of evil.
people.
But Jesus'
prayer in the
garden of
Gethsemane
shows us what
this looks like.
He prays for the
cross to be
taken from him
even as he also
places his life in
the hands of his
father.
And so we begin to
interpret any
troubles that we
experience even the
smallest things
through the lens of
the cross.
a friend in
school talking
behind our
back.
A health
issue that's
not going
away.
A family
situation that's
causing sleepless
nights.
And like
Jesus we will
pray Father
please take
this away.
But we will
also pray
Father so long
as this continues
would you shape
me by it?
Would you
form me into
greater
conformity to
yourself through
this experience?
And as we do
that we will see
that the other
two parts of the
story that Jesus
gave his disciples
play out in our
lives as well.
Resurrection and
mission.
As we learn to
enter into
experiences of the
cross in our
lives we will
also experience
resurrection.
Even though
resurrection may
come in different
ways.
In some cases we
may experience a
resurrection of new
opportunities.
A surprising
relationship that
becomes possible
after the pain of
an old one
ending.
A career path that
only opens up after
other doors close
first.
But other times we
may experience a
resurrection that
is more subtle but
also more profound.
Because in the losses
we suffer we may
experience that our
hearts are resurrected.
That our life with
God is resurrected.
we start to become
more of the person
that God intended us
to be.
We begin to
experience the kind
of life that
becomes possible
when through the
pain of loss our
old self begins
to die.
And this leads to
the final part of
the story.
Mission.
As we begin to
experience troubles
and trials through
the lens of the
cross and as we
also begin to
experience resurrections
in our lives.
Big and small we
will find ourselves
along with the
disciples with a
message to bring to
others.
But that message
will never be
simply some
didactic facts that
we drop into the
laps of others.
Rather we will
bring our own
experiences of the
resurrected Christ.
Our own
experiences of
healing and
transformation as a
loving and natural
overflow into the
lives of those
around us and we
will find ourselves
leading lives of
mission.
We all have
stories by which we
make sense of our
lives.
stories.
The good news is
that you and I
are not bound
to the stories we
have now.
You are not
bound to any
story that has been
imposed upon you
or that you have
absorbed from
others.
Jesus offers you and
me a new story.
The story of cross
and resurrection
and mission.
And it is a story
for where we live
our lives right
now.
Amen.
You.
Thank you.