On Adventure
Adventure.
There may be a few more potent buzzwords in our current culture, but not many. We #hashtag it. We pursue it. We title photos, blogs, and websites with it. We claim to build our lives around it.
And we don’t even really understand it.
While so many of us claim to want our lives to be filled with adventure, the word we’re using and the reality of our experiences could hardly be more different. For many of us adventure becomes not just a preference but a need within us crying out to be fulfilled. We perceive that a life without it wouldn’t be one worth living. And while that may or may not actually be the case, the fact remains that what many of us conceive of as adventure is in reality anything but.
Perhaps it might help to begin with a few things that adventure is not. Adventure is not vacation. Adventure is not tourism. Adventure does not come equipped with air conditioning or provisioned with supermarket goodies. Real adventures do not take place with the knowledge that a cold beverage and a warm bed await you at the end of the day. Adventure is fulfilling, but not always fun; satisfying, but not always safe; exhilarating, but not always exuberant.
True adventure carries with it the possibility or, more likely, the probability of pain, discomfort, and suffering. Adventurous activities are hazardous ones. They push us, test us, pressure us and wound us. The exploration of the unknown that the word carries along with it is more akin to charting the Amazon rainforest for the first time or summiting Everest than it is to zip lining outside a Hawaiian resort or staring out over the ocean from the comfort of an infinity pool.
In short, our highly optic, social media, perception-over-reality culture has co-opted the word in order to relabel our very safe, civilized, and enjoyable activities as something other than what they are.
Is exploration a part of an adventure? Of course. But exploring a destination city for the first time while enjoying restaurants, hotel Jacuzzi's, and public transportation is not adventure.
Are new experiences a part of an adventure? Of course. But if the new experiences require not much more from you than the cost of plane tickets and a three-day weekend, they’re not really adventure.
Is excitement a part of adventure? Of course. But if it’s the kind of excitement without threat of harm or, at the very least, change, it’s probably not adventure. Not really.
Instead, when we think “adventure”, our minds should be reminded of things like Frodo and Sam at the base of Mount Doom: filthy, weary, and at the absolute limits of their capacity. We should picture John McClane at the end of Die Hard: bloody, wounded, and barely able to stand. Arnold Schwarzenegger’s character Dutch in the closing shots of Predator is a pretty appropriate image: staring off into space in complete shock and exhaustion after a blood-pumping fight to the death.
(The value of watching movies like this is that they provide us with these very stark and profound pictures of what adventure is like. The problem, of course, is that we get to view them from a distance without actually getting anywhere near the danger, tension or threat. We enjoy them both because they’re fictional and because we’re experiencing them in a purely observational context. They’re fun because they’re not actually happening to us (or anyone else, really). To get a more tangible hold on what adventure actually is, however, you need to put yourself in the shoes of a person or character that might’ve actually gone through an experience like that. Imagine what it would have been like had it really happened. We tell adventurous stories to learn lessons and to entertain ourselves. But we need to at least project ourselves into those stories in order to really understand the concept.)
True adventure damages us, breaks us, and often times nearly kills us. Adventure is the placing of ourselves directly in harm’s way for the sake of something greater than ourselves. It is not so much experienced as it is survived. It is harsh, unrelenting, and dangerous.
And an adventure is exactly what our Lord has called His people to participate in.
Jesus, speaking to His followers in Matthew 16:24-25, said that, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”
Later, in John 16:33, He promised those who would follow Him that, “In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”
And, in perhaps one of the most striking and unappreciated statements of our Lord, He said that, “[T]he kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.” (Taken along with the rendering of the same teaching found in Luke 16:16, which says, “[T]he good news of the kingdom of God is preached, and everyone forces his way into it,” the idea is that people must be unrelenting and forceful in their desire to be a part of the kingdom of God).
After the earthly ministry of Jesus, the apostle Paul instructed believers that, “The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. And if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with Him in order that we may also be glorified with Him,” (Romans 8:16-17, emphasis mine).
Paul also followed his Lord’s example and routinely deployed intense, violent, and warlike metaphors to make his points about the reality of the Christian life. We are instructed through his inspiration to put on the whole armor of God (Ephesians 6:10-18) and put to death our own sinful natures lest we ourselves be destroyed by them (Romans 8:13). He used the analogy of athletes training for a race to describe the walk of faith (I Corinthians 9:24-27; I Timothy 4:8), as did the writer of the Hebrews (Hebrews 12:1-2).
Metaphorical war, athletic training, killing and dying. Taking a kingdom by force and suffering tribulation at the hands of a world that hates you. That is what’s promised to those who would take Christ up on His offer of redemption. No wonder He told us to seriously consider the cost (Luke 14:25-33). Jesus wanted us to hear Him loud and clear: Christianity is not for the somewhat committed.
These are bold, dramatic, boisterous claims. They spell out the real, true adventure that constitutes following Christ as His disciple. Bending the knee to His lordship and acknowledging all that He is, trusting in His sacrifice and beseeching Him for grace and mercy, will bring you hardship, frustration, hurt, disappointment, and danger. It will be difficult, to say the least, and the battle created within each human soul by the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit is not a comfortable or simple one (Romans 7:15-25). Make no mistake: the life of the biblical Christian is a truly adventurous one, and you can count on not making it out unscathed (I Peter 4:18).
The Christian life is one of renouncing sin and internal rebellion (Acts 3:19; James 4:7-10), trusting the Spirit of God to guide you in the midst of absolute uncertainty and darkness (Psalm 119:105; Proverbs 14:12; Psalm 18:28), and refusing to conform to the cultural and societal norms of the world around you (Romans 12:1-2; I John 2:15). But look again at Romans 8:16-17, a verse we mentioned above. All of this trust, all of this striving, all of this adventurous danger has an end goal in mind. It has a purpose:
“The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. And if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with Him in order that we may also be glorified with Him.” (again, my emphasis)
Remember that we defined adventure as, 'the placing of ourselves directly in harm’s way for the sake of something greater than ourselves.'
The suffering and the discomfort and the pain is pointed at something, and that something is the glorification of our bodies, the preservation of our souls for all eternity, and life in the presence of Jesus Christ Himself.
Don’t misunderstand me, my friends: we do not earn the glorious blessings of heaven and adoption as children of God through our efforts. Those were bought and secured for us by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ and they cannot be taken away from us (Ephesians 1:3; 2:4-10). But part of our calling to be God’s children requires of us obedience, and obedience is a learned skill. We’re told that even Christ, holy as He was, “learned obedience from what He suffered,” (Hebrews 5:7-9) and the servants are not greater than their master (John 15:20-25).
The life of the Christian is an adventurous one. The calling to follow Christ carries with it the responsibility of joining Him in the kinds of things that He experienced. We are being made like Him day by day, and, like Him, we are entrusted with a hazardous task. This is the true nature of adventure, and it is part and parcel of what it means to be a Christian. It will be hard. It will be dangerous. It will be painful and difficult and hazardous. But we must strive through it all – we must live the adventure to which Christ has beckoned us in order to reach Him and His kingdom on the other side.
Embrace the adventure of the hard road and the narrow gate, my friends. It will cost you dearly, but the reward will be far more than you can possibly imagine.
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Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few. - Matthew 7:13-14