Message: Deep River / Joshua 3:7-17

Today is All Saints’ Sunday. It is a day to remember those who have walked the journey of faith before us. In The United Church of Canada, this day is not just about honouring a few great or famous people. It is a day to remember all those who showed us love, taught us about faith, and served the church and their neighbours.

The saints in the Bible were not perfect people. They were people who experienced God’s love and responded to it through their lives. They made mistakes, felt afraid, and sometimes lost their way. Yet, throughout their lives, they tried to share God’s love with others. They served in different ministries of the church and helped pass on the faith they had received to the next generation. Today, we continue to build on the foundation of faith they have left us.

Our first Scripture reading today is about the story of one generation reaching the end of its journey and another continuing along the way. After a long journey, the Hebrew people finally stood at the Jordan River. But Moses was no longer with them. Their new leader, Joshua, had to take his place without knowing what lay ahead.

But God spoke to Joshua: “This day I will begin to exalt you in the sight of all Israel, so that they may know that I will be with you as I was with Moses.” Moses was gone, but God had not left the people. Leaders changed and generations passed. Yet God’s faithfulness continued.

The Jordan River in the Bible was more than a geographical boundary. It marked the end of one way of life and the beginning of another. For the Hebrew people, it marked the end of their journey through the wilderness after the Exodus and the beginning of a new life in the land where they would settle. In the New Testament, the Jordan River also appears as a place of new beginnings. John the Baptist called people to repent and change the direction of their lives, and Jesus was baptized in the same river as he began his public ministry.

In the Christian faith, baptism carries the meaning of sharing in Christ’s death and resurrection. Going into the water and coming out again symbolizes leaving an old life behind and entering a new one. In this way, crossing the Jordan River became an image of the hope of passing through the final boundary of death into eternal life. In Christian hymns and African American spirituals, the Jordan often represents moving beyond suffering and oppression towards freedom and rest, or passing through death into eternal life with God.

In many cultures and religions, rivers have also been symbols of life, death, and new beginnings. Some rivers carry crucial questions about human suffering and salvation. The Japanese novelist Shusaku Endo explored these questions in his novel, Deep River.

In this book, several Japanese travellers visit the Ganges River in India. Each of them has experienced pain or loss. One misses his wife, who has recently died. Another carries the painful memories of war. Another wonders about the meaning of life. They come to India for different reasons, but at the Ganges River, they each face questions about life and death.

In Hindu tradition, the Ganges is a sacred river. There is a belief that dying in Varanasi, a city on its banks, can bring moksha, or liberation from the cycle of rebirth. For Hindus, this is a form of salvation. It is not about going to a better place after death. Rather, it is about being freed from the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. Because of this, many Hindus hope that their bodies will be cremated along the river and their ashes scattered in its waters.

One of the main characters in the novel is a Japanese man named Otsu. Years earlier, he studied Catholic theology in France. But he struggled with the idea that God’s love could be limited by particular religious doctrines or institutions. He believed that God was everywhere, but especially present in human sorrow and suffering. These beliefs brought him into conflict with the Catholic Church, and he eventually found himself pushed away from church life.

Now, Otsu cares for dying people along the Ganges River. He carries abandoned bodies on his back to the riverbank. He has devoted his life to those whom no one else would care for, especially people who are poor, lonely, and suffering. Otsu does not share their religious beliefs, but he does not judge them or question their understanding of salvation. He simply stays by their side.

Otsu reminds us of Jesus carrying the cross up the hill to Golgotha. Just as Jesus entered into the lives of those who suffered, Otsu stood alongside those who had been forgotten and abandoned. In his own way, Otsu carries his cross, bringing hope to those who need love and care.

After reading this novel, I wanted to visit the Ganges River. About twenty years ago, I finally had the opportunity to go there. But what I saw was much more confusing and overwhelming than I had imagined. Along one side of the river, bodies were being cremated one after another. The cremations were not hidden from view. When the wood had burned away, the ashes were released into the river. I witnessed death up close. Some poor families could not afford enough firewood to burn the bodies completely, so the remains were placed in the river.

Yet, not far away, people were entering the water to bathe and pray. Life and death were so close together in the same place. At first, I did not know how to understand what I was seeing. It all seemed like complete chaos. But as I looked at the river, a thought came to me. Perhaps the boundary between life and death is a kind of chaos.

When someone we love dies, we may think we understand what death means. But when we actually face their absence, we encounter something unfamiliar and empty. An unexpected death, especially, can bring deep shock and emotional confusion. The smile and voice of someone who was always there are suddenly gone. A strange silence fills the ordinary moments of our lives.

However, even in that chaos, life continues. Morning comes, and we have to get up again. We need to care for the people who are still with us and live the day that has been given to us. Even when the pain of loss has not gone away, another day begins.

That is what I saw at the river. The Ganges continued to flow, carrying the sorrow and death of countless people. Along its banks, some were saying goodbye to loved ones, while others were beginning another day. And there were people like Otsu who carried the burdens of those who were suffering.

Sometimes we experience loss and suffering that we cannot avoid. Yet God is not distant from those who suffer. God enters into their sorrow and pain. We find a picture of God’s presence in today’s reading from Joshua. When the people crossed the Jordan River, the ark of the covenant, a symbol of God’s presence, went into the river first. As soon as the priests carrying the ark stepped into the water, the river stopped flowing, and a path opened. The priests then stood in the middle of the river until everyone had crossed. They did not hurry to the safety of the other side.

The priests who stood in the middle of the Jordan and Otsu who carried people on his back towards the Ganges lived in very different times and places. Despite this, they had something in common. They did not leave others alone as they faced difficult crossings in life.

Many of the saints we remember today lived in the same way. They stayed beside people going through difficult times and shared their time and love with them. Some cared for the church, some visited those who were lonely, and others devoted themselves to the next generation. Because of them, someone else was able to cross a difficult river in life. To live as a saint is not about accomplishing great things, but about staying beside others and helping them cross the rivers they face.

Today, we remember those who have crossed that river before us. We give thanks for the love and faith they left behind, and we reflect on what their lives mean to us today. Their journeys have come to an end, but we still have a journey ahead of us. We need to find new ways forward in a changing world, walk alongside those who are struggling, and pass on the love we have received to the next generation. And when someone stands in fear before a deep river, we can choose to stay beside them.

God speaks to us through Scripture: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you” (Isaiah 43:2). This promise was not only for the time of Moses and Joshua. Whether we cross rivers of joy and hope or rivers of sorrow and loss, God’s love is with us.

The river keeps flowing. Generations change, and one day our own lives will come to an end. But God’s love continues to flow, even beyond the deepest river. May we remember that love and live the lives we have been given today.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Rev. Min Hwang