Unconventional Wisdom # 55

It's the Journey, Stupid

He was a young man who was going somewhere. Everyone thought so, including him. He was idealistic, ambitious, and gifted--the perfect match for a culture which worshipped productivity. He had a lot to learn. He was me.

I saw Christian service as the highest expression of spiritual life, and I poured all the enormous energy of youth into every conceivable kind of ministry: youth work, evangelism, seminary, church-planting, music, radio, and pastoring. Then I capped it off with the big Kahuna of Christian work, a missionary career.

I had ideas. I had objectives. I was driven to change the world for God, and boy, would He be impressed.

In reality, I had simply baptized a secular view of worth based on productivity and called it vision, for which I graciously gave God all the undeserved credit. Mine was an entrepreneurial brawn. Whatever relationship I had with Him served as a means to this end.

I expected Him to change me, but I assumed that those changes would fall along the lines of making me more skillful and more powerful, in order to serve Him even better. It certainly never occurred to me that God might attempt to fix what wasn't broken or to relegate one of His star players to the bench.

Not surprisingly, God was not quite as excited about my program as I was. In fact, He rebelled. And when He quit facilitating my grandiose plans, I lost confidence in Him.

After more than a year of wrestling with God, this crisis of faith led to a paradigm change. He patiently showed me that the heartbeat of Christianity was not a superstar Christian service but loving God. Attitude was more important than activity. As I began to focus on doing everything as an expression of love for God, I found new meaning in my walk with Him.

Unfortunately, I was not yet weaned from my dependence of doing. I still saw my work for God as the primary expression of my love. And I had a plan, a vision of how God ought to use me, allowing me to maximize my efforts and to shout, "I love you" as loudly as possible. God just didn't grasp my strategy, which made Him seem kind of dense for an omniscient being. And when He didn't open the appropriate doors of service, I ran out of things to say to Him.

I was starting another crisis. This time, however, I had a great deal more experience upon which to reflect. And that reflection brought me face to face with several powerful realities:
1. God didn't seem concerned about when or even if my goals were fulfilled.
2. A lot of wonderful but completely unexpected ministry happened along the way to the accomplishment or non-accomplishment of my agenda.
3. My productivity orientation, rather than facilitating my expression of love for God, instead obscured my view of Him. It was a pagan idol, my own personal Asherah pole.

I was poised for yet another paradigm change, yet more than a little conflicted. I felt that God, rather than appreciating all I had to offer, was asking me to become something I was not, to do something I could not.

"I'm a dreamer and a schemer, " I told Him. "I've got overcoming talent. I'll work like a dog. But I'm no good at waiting and listening, just doing and talking. Give me a job, not a journey. Give me logic, not mystery. Give me a plan, not a promise. Save my soul, but not myself.

So God says, " Let's take a walk." Leaving the well-marked path behind, we meander for hours through a barren wilderness. I am becoming increasingly exasperated by the seemingly aimlessness of the excursion.

At last, I can't stand it any longer. "God," I boldly whine, "Just where in the world are we going?"

"Here."

I look this way and that, my frustration continuing to mount. "Here? What's here?"

"I AM."

I look back. My hometown, the Quad Cities of Activism, Pragmatism, Ambition, and Pride, is only a speck on the horizon. The day is too far gone to return. I have no idea where we are headed, so I can't very well proceed on my own.

In this desolate place, defined only by the two persons occupying it, there is nothing to do, nothing to plan, nothing to accomplish. I am restless. Why would God choose a destination which is, in fact, nowhere at all?

Suddenly, my flesh tingles with the giddy rush of discovery. In a moment, from nowhere and from everywhere, the elusive answer floods my consciousness:
The journey is the destination, a journey away from myself and toward God.

It's a little embarrassing to admit that I have not unearthed a hidden treasure but simply stumbled upon the obvious., a truth forever apparent but never apprehended. And, yet, belated enlightenment is better than eternal ignorance.

"It's the journey, stupid," I remind myself--today and tomorrow and for the rest of my life.

-Scott Garber, 2001
Unconventional Wisdom