Take What God Sends

On why the church is often bad at adventures (and how we might get better)

This Christmas I discovered the (admittedly obvious) connection between the words Advent and adventure. I was reading Malcolm Guite’s Advent devotional Waiting on the Word and was stopped in my tracks by this thought:

Perhaps that is why the other sense we have of the word ‘advent’ is to find it beginning the word ‘adventure.’ The knights in Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur say to one another, “Let us take the adventure that God sends us,” recognizing that the God in whom we live and move and have our being may come and meet us when and where he pleases, and any door we open may be the door to the ‘chapel perilous.’

“Chapel perilous” is literary jargon for the stage in the story when the hero can’t finish the quest alone; she’s met some monster or force or obstacle she can’t best, and she requires supernatural assistance. Here, Guite uses the phrase as a synonym for adventure.

I put down Guite’s book and Googled word origins. I found that in Latin the word “adventurus” means “something is about to happen.”

Goosebumps crept up my arms.

Are you living like the knights of the round table, hands open to receive the something that is certainly about to happen?

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My husband and I have not made a plan in the last three months without its having been undone. We planned to live in Belfast for two months. Customs told us we’d misunderstood our VISA—we had one month, tops. We looked for alternate options and ended up in Carndonagh for six weeks, six weeks that felt like two years (in the most beautiful, miraculous way).

We planned to go to France for Justin’s sister’s wedding, arrived at the Orlando airport and found out we’d done something incorrectly with our vaccines. We’d have to wait a day to leave—which meant losing four international flights and booking new ones. We arrived about 6 hours later than we’d planned. The wedding was perfect.

We planned to go to Florida for Christmas, to celebrate Christmas morning at my Nana’s house, the smell of cookies baking in the oven. When we arrived Nana had been rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with late stage cancer (all of us were completely surprised). Doctors said she might not survive the week. We moved her to Hospice. She seemed to get better. We moved her to an assisted living facility. Much of Christmas week was spent trying to help my dad take care of his mom. It was heavy. And lovely. I sat beside her bed as we laughed about all our favorite memories. Then I read her my favorite chapter from my new book. We wouldn’t have done those things if things had gone according to plan.

We planned to not have Justin’s phone stolen. But it was. Replacing it wasn’t too hard; we got a good deal, an additional free phone and line, free Hulu and Netflix. Losing all the pictures and video was hardest, but just the day before he’d decided he needed to get serious about saving them. He hadn’t saved them all, but he did save some.

We planned to get on a plane bound for Portugal on December 27th. Cancelled.

We planned to take a plane to South Africa on January 5th. Also cancelled.

We planned to Airbnb our house for another year and a half. But then the HOA said, please stop or we’ll fine you more than three times your mortgage each month.

So now we’re in Texas selling our house and moving all our things into storage. Our realtor says it’ll sell fast, likely for more than we’re asking. So maybe it’s good our flights were cancelled and the HOA sent us a threatening email the day before Christmas Eve.

Yesterday I said to Justin, “I think it’s going to be okay.” And he said, “It is. And 10 months down the road we’re going to see that it was more than okay. I don’t know why I feel that way, but I do.”

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After reading that quote from Guite and doing a bit of research, I messaged my college medieval literature teacher. I said, “I'm hunting down the passage Malcolm Guite refers to in this quote, but can't find it. Is it a fair translation? Is it actually in the text?”

Known for his fascinating digressions, my professor said a lot about the not-so-holy “adventures” of knights. Adultery, manslaughter… This didn’t phase me. Bible stories include these kinds of adventures, too.

Later, I’d turn to the text and take a closer look. Four times I found this phrase repeated by the knights in Le Morte d’Arthur : “We must take as God sends.” Another medievalist responded to my question with another translation: “I shall take the adventure that God will ordain.”

“Adventure” arrived in the English vocabulary in the 1200s. By the time Malory retells the stories of Arthur and his knights, “adventure” is a widely used word. Most of the time the knights refer to an adventure, they mean a quest with a goal. If an adventure is a something-is-about-to-happen, these knights expect that one of the somethings will be the fulfillment of their hopes (even as they encounter many, many unexpected somethings along the way).

That’s not how the word began, however. In one of the oldest Arthurian romance poems Erec et Enide, Chretien de Troyes writes (in Old French) about a hero who left the court and let his horse take him wherever it would "a venture." My professor wrote, “It is apparently the first story of a knight going off without a goal, just letting things happen.” It’s also the first use of that word in a story about a knight—”a venture.” It means “at random.”

Even today, linguistically speaking, “adventure” is less about goal-reaching and more about excitement and risk. You can’t exactly plan an adventure. Adventure happens to you. You take what God sends.

Some days God sends baby Jesus, peace on earth. Some days he sends grown up Jesus with a sword tongue and an army of fire angels.

Lately I’m learning that whatever He sends is right.

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I don’t know if you’ve lived an adventure. No, you have lived an adventure; that’s inevitable. Life is all somethings happening. This whole modern world feels like a social experiment in adventure, so many random happenings (happenings that maybe aren’t so random). What I don’t know is whether you’ve ever embraced an adventure, whether you’ve submitted to one, whether you’ve opened your hands and said (knees shaking), “Let us take the adventure that God sends us.”

If you haven’t, you should know, Bilbo Baggins was not entirely wrong when he described them this way: “Nasty, disturbing, and uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner!” You should also know, wherever God sends you is better than wherever you’d have stayed.

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It’s been a year now that I’ve been removed from the American church (my family lives internationally), and every day I’m trying to answer this question: What have you learned looking back at the church that you couldn’t see when you lived inside the church? I have answers. Some of them seem important. One of them is this:

The church in America is generally miserable at adventure. We cannot for the life of us let the horse go where it will. And when the horse is led by the Spirit of God, that’s a big problem.

Here’s what I mean:

The American church* prefers planning to praying. We like talking more than listening. We choose doing over waiting for God to do first. We like safety and predictability. We like spreadsheets and 10 year goals, highly qualified staff and complex organizational structures with very long turning radii. We are slow to trust our members (even occasionally our leaders) when they report encounters with God, and we create decision-making systems that prioritize logic and comfort over brave, sacrificial submission to the movement of the Spirit.

[By the “American church” I mean individual Christians, elders/pastors, ministers, para-church non-profits, etc. living in America]

When it comes to “following” God, the church (both the individuals in it and the system) too often charts its own course and then looks to God to rubber stamp the paperwork.

All of this makes the concept of adventure (not to mention the actuality of adventure) difficult to swallow.

Is that true of every church? No. Is it true of most churches most of the time? That’s been my experience. For a long time, especially as a minister on staff at a church, that was my MO. I showed up at meetings with handouts, outlines of every needed step to solve a problem, bullet pointed answers to every what if. I prayed but usually at the end, after the work, before I knew whether my work had paid off. I always spent longer on logistics than I did quietly listening. I never presented an idea without an iron-clad process. I thought the way forward was best deciphered using logic and wisdom and best practices. Prayer, openness to supernatural interference, trust—those were last ditch solutions to unsolvable problems.

During their journey to the promised land, the Israelites complained about God’s mysterious path. They wanted something more predictable (food and water they could count on). They wanted something more like what they’d known in Egypt (idols and images). They wanted their individual problems prioritized (leading to a complex, hierarchical system of oversight). They wanted something safe (not a war with giants in Canaan).

Sound familiar?

In the end, God didn’t lead the Israelites into the promised land, not for 40 years. Why? Because He couldn’t. They weren’t up for an adventure.

When Jesus came to earth He found Himself struggling to earn the respect of the Jewish leaders. Why? Because He had ideas that didn’t fit the framework, because He challenged the agreed upon rules, because He wasn’t what they’d expected. The Pharisees and Sadducees had to grown to like things the way they were before Jesus showed up. Now that He was here, He was messing everything up.

How many churches are closing the door to God right now because He doesn’t fit, because He’s challenging, because He isn’t what they expected, because He’s messing everything up? Or maybe this: How many churches have left Jesus standing at the door because they’re perfectly satisfied with the life they’ve been able to build without His direct intervention?

Most of you reading this post are not church leaders; you’re everyday Christians trying to follow God in your everyday life. You know as well as I do that it’s us who’re the problem. Churches are just made up of people. Pastors and elders and ministers aren’t any different than we are. And us people need to figure out what it looks like to be led by the Spirit of God, to take the adventure God sends us—

Not to say no thanks to adventure, satisfied and comfortable

AND

Not to plan our own adventure, each step thoroughly researched and vetted, footnotes provided

What would that look like for you? It might look like opening your hands, loosening your grip on what you have, welcoming whatever God has for you, accepting whatever God might take from you. It might look like reading scripture ready to be challenged, eyes and heart open. It might look like praying A LOT and spending intentional time silently listening. It might look like making a call before you have all the details figured out, moving forward with trust because you’re certain it’s what God wants. It might look like supporting a friend who tells you, “I know this is what God wants.” It might look like waiting for God to offer a solution before trying to figure one out for yourself. It might look like leaving a problem unsolved because God hasn’t given you a solution—maybe He’ll give it to someone else.

The most important thing is to walk through life believing that something is about to happen, eager to take what God sends, saying yes to every ordained adventure.

-JL

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Coming in 2022

The Goodness

It’s been a while since I’ve written here (book launch and the holidays), but I’m happy, happy, happy to be back to The Goodness. You can expect these emails to return to their twice-a-month-on-Wednesdays rhythm from here on out.

Look to Love videos

Last fall I started a series of Look to Love videos, making my way through Scripture one book at a time, providing examples in how to look to love. I originally thought the videos would be short—10 to 15 minutes, but they were constantly spilling over. I also discovered they took longer to make than I’d expected. After working my way through 10 books (Genesis to II Samuel) I realized my thoughts were probably better conveyed (and encountered) in podcast form. Which means, starting in the next week or so, I’m transitioning the videos to a podcast format. I’ll tell you all about it in the next edition of The Goodness. Hopefully this will make it easier for you to listen in the car or while you do the dishes.

Audiobook Update

Speaking of Look to Love, SO many of you are reading and sharing that book. I’ve heard beautiful things from readers all over this planet about ways you’re encountering God. Praise Him.

If you’re waiting for your free audiobook, I’m sorry it’s taking a while. We had a major technology problem combined with travel cancellations and suddenly needing to sell our house. I’m guessing God had other plans for the audiobook publishing date. Either that or the devil decided to fight back. He’s not a fan of Look to Love.

You can expect to receive your audiobook via email (or Messenger) by February 10th (Lord willing). If you’re waiting to buy the audiobook, you’ll be able to grab your “copy” around that same time. I’ll include a link in the first February edition of The Goodness.

Look to Love Group Study Guide

It’s coming! But you’ll have to be patient. I anticipate finishing the small group/Bible class/book club discussion guide for Look to Love (including video teaching) by June 2022. My goal is to have it in your hands in time for fall classes. If you teach/lead Look to Love before then I’d love to hear how it’s going and what’s working/not working.

Where I live right now

On Friday my family is scheduled to fly to Cape Town, South Africa where we intend to live for the next five months. There are many ways that trip could be interrupted. Would you mind praying we wouldn’t catch COVID? That’s the big one. Also that our house packing and sale would go well? Thank you, friends!