There is a stretch of Route 50 as you travel through Nevada that has been dubbed “the loneliest road in America.” That particular stretch of road spans desolate terrain marked by several large valleys and basins. There are long distances between the small towns along the road and travelers rarely see other cars. One has the feeling they are the only person for miles and miles.
Route 50 serves as a good metaphor for how many feel on the journey of life. We live in a time where we might feel more digitally connected, but face to face we are disconnected. Once upon a time we lived in homes with large front porches, which served as family and community gathering places. Now, we drive into our garage, park our car, and quickly close the garage door. A key feature of many homes is a large private backyard, one where we can safely hide away from our neighbors.
To be clear, solitude is a good and healthy discipline. We need time to be alone and to be with God. There is also evidence illustrating that loneliness is becoming almost epidemic in our culture. Sociologist Robert Putnam writes about an increasing loss of social capital, meaning that we don’t participate together in community, civic, or religious organizations at the rate we once did.
In this Sunday’s sermon, we will look at the Psalmist’s lament recorded in Psalm 25. Psalm 25 is the cry of one who feels forgotten, proclaiming “I am all alone and I have been forgotten.” I suspect we know that lament all too well.
I invite you to join us this Sunday as we explore the promises of God’s presence and the threads of connection we might discover together. We belong to God and to each other. As an Oregon volunteer fire department wrote for their annual fundraising breakfast, “Come to our breakfast and we will come to your fire.”
We gather for worship at 9 and 11:15 AM this Sunday. I hope you will be present and that you might feel called to invite someone with you who needs to hear the promise of God’s presence.
Grace and peace,