Sunday Brunch: Where are you going?

Jesus answered, “Even if I testify on my own behalf, my testimony is valid because I know where I have come from and where I am going, but you do not know where I come from or where I am going. You judge by human standards…”— John 8: 14-15

“Where are you going?” Do you ever feel paralyzed when asked that question? An ask, so simple, yet can so easily leave you frozen where you stand. Maybe you’re too afraid to move forward because you don’t know what comes next. Or perhaps the crushing weight of expectations—your own or others’—keeps your feet planted. The fear of the unknown, the uncertainty of your destination, and the lingering question of whether you’ll be okay can be immobilizing.

While contemplating today’s reflection, a song by Dave Matthews Band echoed in my ear.

Where are you going?

Where do you go?

Are you looking for answers

To questions under the stars?

Well, if along the way

You are growin’ weary

—“Where Are You Going,” Dave Matthews Band

This song captures the feeling of being stuck and worn down by uncertainty. Anxiety creeps in with questions like, Will I know the results soon? Will the procedure be successful? Will I ever see them again? These thoughts swirl in our minds, unmoored from any anchor of stability.

I feel this even now, as my wife and I sit patiently in infertility’s waiting room. We are somewhere, yet nowhere, at the same time. The journey before us is illuminated only enough for the next step. John O’Donohue describes this rhythm beautifully:

We are always on a journey from darkness into light…Each day is a journey. We come out of the night into the day. All creativity awakens at this primal threshold where light and darkness test and bless each other. You only discover balance in your life when you learn to trust the flow of this ancient rhythm.

I tried to capture this idea of flow and rhythm in last week's poem—painting a picture of a river of living water flowing from within you, that enriches and flourishes the riverbanks along its path. When we walk in lock step along the Christ path, we are unable to see around the next bend in the river. The next season of life remains masked in the fog of the future. Given this uncertainty, we have a choice: we can float aimlessly, step off the river’s edge, or move forward with the current through the headwaters.

Gerhard von Rad so well expresses the Christ path like this:

Christ and his word are the real causes of the Christian's restlessness and pilgrimage…Christ commands us again and again to break camp and move on. How many regions of the mind and spirit has Christianity wandered through; and how many shelters that it has built to make some small provision for itself…have been demolished. But God is also constantly leading the individual out of and beyond what he has arbitrarily regarded as his home.

I do not mean to suggest that following the Christ path is like rowing upstream—quite the opposite. It’s a surrendering to the river’s flow, trusting as you meander downstream, every dark forest and valley will pass in time. The river, as wild and free as it is, is also nourishing the lands that lie ahead. As Robert Frost puts it:

The best way out is always through.

—A Servant to Servants

As we set out from the riverbank, not knowing when the next rapids may appear, we are left with a sense of unease. Yet, I find comfort floating in the current, trusting in its direction. This kind of rest is beautifully expressed in the later verses of the Dave Matthews Band song I mentioned earlier:

You can rest with me

Until a brighter day and

you’re okay

I am no Superman

I have no answers for you

I am no hero, ah, that’s for sure

But I do know one thing

Is where you are

is where I belong

I do know where you go

Is where I wanna be

—“Where Are You Going,” Dave Matthews Band

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