On the Road again

A SERMON for the congregation of St. Stephen, Summerland, Sunday, April 19th, 2026, the Third Sunday of Easter by the Very Rev. Ken Gray

Willie Nelson said it, and sang it, best:

On the road again
Goin’ places that I’ve never been
Seein’ things that I may never see again
I can’t wait to get on the road again

And he didn’t walk alone:

The life I love is making music with my friends
And I can’t wait to get on the road again

Willie Nelson starred as an aging rocker in the film Honeysuckle Rose. While on an airplane flight, he was asked to write a song about ‘being on the road’ for the film by director Jerry Schatzberg and executive producer Sydney Pollack, so he grabbed a barf bag and proceeded to write “On The Road Again” on it. The song topped the US Country Chart and crossed over to pop, peaking at #20 in late 1980. The song won a Grammy the following year for Best Country Song.

The moral of this story is this: Use what you have available, when you have it available, and let the inspiration fly. See what happens.

Born and raised the comfort and security of Oak Bay in Victoria, the idea of road trips and travel used to be foreign to me. Downtown Victoria was far enough away for me. But then, I moved to England for two years. Next back to Ontario for three. Then to northeastern BC for two and down to the island for another three. Next came Saskatchewan, Vancouver Island again, Summerland, back to the island, then Kamloops, and then finally, back here to Summerland. Phew.

Truthfully, from my childhood memories of safety, security, and stability, I have done okay, putting myself, and later, Kathie, not exactly in harm’s way, but able to incorporate a certain amount of risk and adventure into our lives along the way.

One part of the fun is the travel itself — new places, new things to see, new experiences to investigate. But really, for me at least, it is always the people I have met along the way. And what people I have met over the years — brilliant musicians; faith leaders and explorers; folks living with challenges; politicians; creative artists; vagabonds, creeps, and charismatic personalities. I can name many under each category.

Some people you discover and recognize immediately; others however require time for a relationship to emerge. It is so easy to see someone walk or cycle by, and just ignore them. Here they come . . . There they go. Sometimes a distinctive characteristic commands my attention. Sometimes, I need to step away from my routine and my personal priorities, and inquire after this new person who appears, seemingly from nowhere:

Now on that same day two of [Jesus’ disciples] were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.

Every conversation has its own risk. How much to tell, to share, to reveal to a friend or a stranger? And how much should I inquire, prod, question, even demand of any newfound visitor? English social etiquette urges caution, restraint, carefulness. Other cultures are more inquisitive, even aggressive. How about your Italian or German neighbour next door. Beyond language and culture, we are all different personalities. As one mentor once told me: “Some of us like to play in the traffic.”

And [Jesus] said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?”

OH, I sometimes know; sometimes, we all know, what’s going on, what’s happening, though everything comes through a filter — of experience, or knowledge, of bravado, and yes, sometimes, of shyness or even fear. Conversations are risky, as are relationships. So what, then, comes next. The conversation works itself out in community, a small community of enthusiastic, though incomplete believers:

As they came near the village to which they were going, [Jesus]  walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight.

Oh dear; has something gone wrong the disciples likely thought. Is it all over, again? This furtive Jesus vanishes from their sight. Holy heartbreak. And what about our sight? Do you expect to see a physical apparition of Jesus as you walk your own road? I don’t; but I do need some sort of real encounter with Jesus’ Real Presence in my life. So here’s a thought:

Travelling up to Kelowna the other day, looking out my car window it dawned on me, that if we can “see” Jesus in people, we can also see him in nature — the work of His, and Creator’s gift. Why not? Anglican theology boasts a robust tradition of “natural theology,” one not without its critics however. During our rather routine car ride, I was struck by the calm (at the time) water, the brown hills and atop grey rock, the lighter sky festooned with puffy clouds. It was so very beautiful. We are so very fortunate to live here, able to savour the beauty, that nourishes and delights us. With John Wesley who during his 1738 Aldersgate conversion experience found his heart “strangely warmed,” So I was last Monday, along with the disciples on that very first Easter Day

“Were not our hearts [strangely warmed] within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?”

It is sometimes suggested that humans “commune” with nature. Well, I think we actually do. I did, this past Monday. This is why I start, and today conclude, my sermons with a simply phrase:

Creator, from the depth and breadth of creation, we thank you. Amen.

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