Whenever one travels, before leaving home there are automatic mental checklists of the things that have to be done before leaving: stopping the mail and the newspaper, calling the airlines to make sure the flight has not been cancelled or delayed, locking the doors. Traveling post 911 has only made things more stressful: longer lines at check-in, remembering to take out any liquid in carry-on luggage, and taking off our shoes going through security. Each time I put my shoes in that little tray, and my belt, I realize that the added security is needed; yet I am almost forgetting how it all worked before. To be sure, setting out on a journey these days is a complicated and sometimes anxiety-filled exercise.

To calm the sense of anxiety and the fear of the unknown, over the centuries different cultures have sent travelers off with prayers of protection. The Irish have long sent their travelers off with this cherished blessing: May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be at your back, may the sun shine warm upon your face, may the rain fall soft upon your fields, and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand. In our Book of Common Prayer, we offer this prayer for travelers. O God, our heavenly Father, whose glory fills the whole creation, and whose presence we find wherever we go: Preserve those who travel; surround them with your loving care; protect them from every danger; and bring them safely to their journey’s end.

The psalm we prayed this morning has become one of my favorite psalms -- I imagine that more than a few of you present share this view. I lift up my eyes to the hills -- from where will my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. (Ps. 121 v. 1-2) These words are often commended for a burial service as an expression of divine comfort, and portions of it – the LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore -- are used when we bless homes. It is believed that the psalm began as a prayer of blessing for a pilgrim or a traveler about to set out on a journey. It is possible that the journey pointed toward Jerusalem – the holy city set up in the hills of Judah. For all the inconveniences of modern travel – airport security, travel delays, and lost luggage – these pale in comparison to challenges and the fears that beset those who set out on a journey thousands of years ago. We recall the story Jesus told of the Good Samaritan, which began when a man was traveling and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and left him half dead. One did not set out on a journey lightly.

The pattern of the psalm is this: the first two verses are said by the one leaving. The first: 1 “I lift up my eyes to the hills— from where will my help come?” Even before setting out, the traveler acknowledges the risks. If something were to happen along the way, what would they do? The weather in that part of the world was extreme: blinding sun by day and frigid cold at night. The road was barely marked and it was certainly not lit. If he or she were injured or robbed, there was no AAA roadside assistance, no nearby ATM machines to withdraw cash, and no cell phones for emergencies.

Just last night driving home from Vermont, driving up a notoriously steep hill on a back road I came upon a S.U.V. that had just moments before flipped onto its side. The accident had just happened. Along with two other cars, I stopped to see if there was anything I could do. A woman had squeezed out of the shattered window, her head was bleeding a bit and she was quite dazed. Her husband and her son were safely buckled into their seats, thankfully, and a few of us helped them get out of the car. Within five minutes, even on this back road, the paramedics arrived – having been called from a cell phone.

The pilgrim or traveler of the psalm, facing uncertainty, sets out. Acknowledging the risks ahead, he proclaims what he believes will get him through. 2 “My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.” And that was enough to set out. What follows is the response of the one staying behind – said to the traveler leaving – as a last minute reminder lest he forget. (121:3-8) God will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The LORD is your keeper; the LORD is your shade at your right hand. The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.

Whether we are drawn to psalm 121 for its poetry, the beauty of the images and the comfort it gives us, as we pray through the psalm what emerges is a vision of God that is simple and enduring. God is active and alive. Not letting your feet be moved – for the path before us can be slippery and treacherous. The Lord is our keeper – keeping us close, safe, cool and protected. As we began this Lenten season with a reflection on the temptations that confronted Jesus in the wilderness, we are reminded again that we do not face evil alone. We bring God to the battle and the conflicts God has shown through Christ’s resurrection from the dead that no evil will ever overcome the forces of love that lie behind all of creation. The Lord will keep us from all evil. Say it again and again. Do not forget. Believe it. We see how the Lord is close at hand and not far off, interested and engaged, not aloof and disconnected.

Knowing that we spend almost a third of our lives sleeping, and knowing that one of the highest crimes of any soldier – in ancient and modern times – is to fall asleep while on watch, God promises not to slumber nor sleep. Ours is a 24/7 God. Keeping watch and staying awake is important. Recall the account of Jesus confronting Peter and the disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane. In those long lonely hours of the night, Jesus was experiencing grief and agitation about his coming death. We see the human side of Jesus that so draws us to him. We can imagine him with fear, loss, perhaps even second thoughts and doubts. In Mark’s gospel, Jesus’ last words on the cross were “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me.” (Mk 15:34) Yet in the garden all that Jesus wanted was for his followers to stay awake with him. But they fell asleep.

Benedictine nun Joan Chittister offers us this: "Contrary to conventional wisdom Lent is not a series of behaviors. It is a series of questions that, year after year, is designed to measure our progress on the way to fullness of life. The question we are confronted with as we begin Lent is a critical one: Do you want to be religious or do you want to be real?"

Believing in a God who never slumbers nor sleeps grounds our faith, especially in today’s activity-centered culture: we move around a lot; commuting back and forth to work; dropping kids off at school; shopping for groceries; going to the doctor; doing errands. The more we do, the more tired we can become, and the harder it is to unwind, rest, sleep and get restored for the days that will follow.

I believe God is saying something very simple to us. Do not become a sum of our worries. Being real is inviting God to do and be what God has promised; so that we can become the people we are intended to be. Let God do the keeping, the watching, the saving – so that we can find time to rest, heal and mend. So that we do not lose the sense of joy that is our inheritance. Jesus said: I have said these things so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. (John 15:11) So that we can live with a sense of hope in the face of events that are beyond our control.

This week our nation grieved yet another senseless shooting at a college campus: this time Northern Illinois University. We can’t even imagine the pain being felt by the families of those who died. It would be natural to respond to any tragedy by never leaving home – not wanting to send our children off to school or away to college.

But we are people on a journey. In the face of dangers, perceived and real, what we have affirmed today by lifting up an ancient psalm is that God is always awake, always behind and in front of us, at our side and above us. This promise allows us to travel, wander, explore, expand our minds, visit new places and meet new people, learn about different cultures -- because we are all one family. Know that, we can truly believe that the Lord will always keep our going out and our coming in from this time on and forevermore.