Into the Unknown
Genesis 12:1-4
Genesis 12:1-4 (NRSV):
1 Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. 2 I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. 3 I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” 4 So Abram went, as the Lord had told him, and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran.
This person is asked to leave behind the familiar and comfortable. To go to a place he hasn’t yet been and does not yet fully understand. He will be “great” and a blessing to others for doing so. People who support his journey into the unknown will be blessed. People who oppose it will be cursed. There will be ripples to his journey. In response to this call, he goes. He takes a companion. And, at 75, he is no spring chicken.
The Bible cynic in me is wary of passages that may seem innocent enough but can be used in harmful ways. It’s tempting to dismiss this passage as religious propaganda for colonization and Empire-building. But the Bible optimist in me can see something more fundamental and universal, here: the journey of stepping out, letting go, taking a worthwhile risk, transcending the known, and venturing into the unknown.
In a lot of ways it’s the hero’s journey. It may lack some traditional elements of the hero’s journey, but it does, in tandem with the rest of Abram’s story, have hints of it. A person feels a call to leave home, for some greater purpose, and along the way will be challenged, sustained by others, and transformed, while also having an impact on their world. Abram–who will become Abraham, the name change a symbol of his transformation–doesn’t exactly return home as in the hero’s journey, but creates a new home, more fitting to who he has become, through his journey.
This reminds me of all sorts of movies that have been important to my young family. Luke Skywalker’s journey from farmboy on Tatooine to mystic antifascist galactic peacemaker. Frodo Baggins’ journey from the cozy Shire to the fires of Mordor. Elsa’s journey from scared but powerful ice queen to fearlessly and lovingly embracing who she is. Moana’s journey from familiar island to somewhere beyond the horizon to save her people and discover who she is–fittingly, a wayfinder. We cherish these stories of people’s journeys, and we know the journey is not just geographical, it’s personal and inward, and it matters, to others, that this journey takes place.
You might not think of yourself as a hero, or as having one simple, overarching way to frame the narrative of your life, like Luke, Frodo, Elsa, and Moana, so let’s not put that pressure on ourselves. Some queries might point us in the right direction.
When have you been nudged to leave the known for the unknown? Did you respond to the call? How did that go? If you haven’t responded yet, what holds you back?
Who are those in our world, distant or close, stranger or friend, who have left the known for the unknown? How were they received by others or by us?
Scholars refer to Genesis 1-11 as ‘pre-history” and Genesis 12 as the beginning of patriarchal and matriarchal history: the stories of Abram and Sarah, Issac and Rebekah, Jacob and Rachel, among other key players like Leah, Hagar, Lot, and Joseph. Genesis 1-11 is a really good time, if you like talking snakes, naked people in the woods, apocalypse-level floods, and people seeing if they can build a tower to outer space. Plus a little bit of fratricide, just to keep things interesting.
But the rest of Genesis kind of gets down to business, telling the story of how a people came to be, leaving the known for the unknown. That’s what the Garden of Eden story is, too, if you read it like I do–venturing forth into the unknown. But in Genesis 12 we get more into the weeds about how this unfolded, for this ancient Jewish community. This passage is like the beginning of the beginning: go, leave what you know, for a place you don’t know; good things will happen, for you and others; and you won’t be alone.
Is this relatable, on a small scale? I don’t think anyone needs to leave here today, thinking “I’m just living my ordinary life, no big fancy quest for me!” But, if you look a little more carefully, at your life to this moment, or maybe the life that awaits you…
When have you recognized you could not stay in a place or situation any longer, even if you didn't know what would come next? When have you had a general idea of where you were headed and yet still bravely taken a step into mystery? Was it a relationship, or intimacy and vulnerability within a relationship? Was it leaving a job, or starting a new job? Was it moving? Was it leaving one way of being religious for another?
Was it reaching out to someone, not knowing what you would say, but knowing you needed to reach out? Was it sharing a talent, publicly? Was it having children? When have you stepped into the unknown, even in a small, unflashy way?
Abram leaves behind the familiar and comfortable. Have you felt this same nudge?
Abram goes to a place he hasn’t been and does not fully understand. Have you taken a bold but necessary step without fully knowing what you’re getting yourself into?
Abram will be “great” for venturing forth, and he will be a blessing for doing so. Do you think that greatness awaits, or that good things come to you and others, when you take this step into the unknown? Has this happened to you?
People who support Abram’s journey into the unknown will be blessed. Are there people who have relished the opportunity to support you in your journey, blessed by their participation in your story, inspired by your readiness to move forward?
People who oppose Abram’s journey will be cursed. Are there people who were not thrilled about your brave journey into something new? And, is their opposition to you a self-curse, a tragic, missed opportunity to embrace something truly wonderful?
There will be ripples to Abram’s action, his journey. Who benefited from a bold step you took? Who might benefit from a step you haven’t yet taken?
In response to this call, he goes. Abram cannot know for certain that he’ll be okay, but he doesn’t wait for certainty to take a leap of faith and venture forth. A true leap of faith is not a sure thing, but it’s also not foolish. When have you taken this leap?
Abram takes a companion, Lot. Luke has R2-D2. Frodo has Samwise. Elsa has her sister, and a talking snowman. Moana has her Grandma’s spirit. And of course all of these characters have many others, a whole alliance, or fellowship, or family, or creature companions, supporting them. Who do you have?
Abram was kinda old. 75 may or may not seem old, and I know it says elsewhere in Genesis that he lived to be 175 years, and whether or not that could possibly be true or is just an honorary number given to him by a writer/redactor, 75 hits my ears as…a seasoned veteran of life. Even if it’s not even mid-life for Abram, 75 years is a long time to live in a place and then be uprooted. Maybe you’ve been living in a place–literally or metaphorically–for a long time, such that any major change or step isn’t necessarily easy. What has been or is your biggest hurdle in venturing forth, in some way?
As for my second query, we live life in community, local and global. People around us are taking big steps, leaving behind one world for another, or one way of being or thinking for another, or one season of life for the next. Who are those around us who have left behind the known for the unknown? Maybe a group of people comes to mind. Maybe your partner or child or parent. How have these travelers been received by others, and by us? What opportunity awaits us to support someone as they more fully become who they are, or become what they aren’t yet? Who needs our encouragement, our reassurance, our hospitality, our companionship, even our openness to being positively changed, by their journey?
Abraham and Sarah, as they’d become known, later, left home. I really don’t think this was just…to mix things up, try something new. Ennui was probably not the catalyst, as much as necessity. They, like Luke, and Frodo, and Elsa, and Moana, and maybe many in our world, possibly including you, left because it was really the only viable option. They couldn’t stay. They shouldn’t stay. Too much was at stake, for them and others, to stay. They had to venture into the unknown, in faith that it was the right thing to do, even if they had plenty of justifications for staying. Something called them forward.
I can certainly relate to that call forward. I’ve always been a spiritual person, and at some point started thinking of myself as a mystic. I sometimes call myself a “Love mystic” which I know sounds kind of sexy but it’s really not…that. A mystic seeks out the experience of the Divine in the world, and people around them. They know there is more, beyond what the five senses can take in, and seek union or partnership with that. I find God in the Love within me, in the Love of others and between me and others, and in nature, and seek out that Love.
But other personal examples come to mind of venturing into the unknown. I traveled a lot in my twenties, sensing there was more to experience, beyond my homeland. I often only had loose plans, and had to figure things out as I went, traveling alone around central Europe, then later South America, and eventually China. When things got dicey, sometimes my creativity and confidence sustained me. Sometimes the hospitality and generosity of others sustained me.
I followed my heart beyond evangelical faith, which nurtured me for a time but could not contain my evolving faith. There was a time where that was all I knew, and assumed there was nothing on the other side. Of course, I was happily mistaken.
I followed a call to get a PhD, uprooting my young family, attempting a level of academic rigor I didn’t really know if I could pull off, certainly feeling like an imposter, often, and yet producing and accomplishing something I’m really proud of, that I know has had positive ripples.
I got married. I’d never been married before, so marriage was “the unknown.” Sometimes it still feels like the unknown! But at least I’ve got a solid companion.
I had kids. Parenting was “the unknown.” Sometimes it still feels like the unknown. But at least I’ve got three solid young companions.
I became a Quaker pastor, never having truly been a practicing Quaker before. In that case, both Camas Friends and I journeyed into the unknown a bit, stepping out in faith that this relationship would work out. I’m still here!
Every time I hike, I venture into the unknown. Of course I always research a trail, and often return to trails I’ve hiked before, but there’s always a surprising newness to these experiences. I literally leave home, and never regret it.
Even in friendships, there is “unknown.” When I’m with someone and don’t really know what I’m going to say; or do know what I’m going to say but don’t know how it will land. Being with people is sometimes a risky, vulnerable endeavor. Solitude is crucial, for me. But connection is what it’s all about, I think.
Abram, who becomes so changed by his journey that he gets a new name, Abraham, leaves Haran. Haran, interestingly, can mean “parched.” This is his point of departure. Abram, in many ways, is thirsty, and cannot be quenched where he is.
We’re all a little thirsty. We need something we don’t yet have, in full. We’re meant to go forth, to become what we haven’t yet become. We’re self-transcending creatures who paradoxically find ourselves by going beyond ourselves, to find the Divine in other people and places; to participate in something greater, with others; to break away from some things and take hold of what awaits us. We are called into the unknown.
I’ll close with a few lines from a longer, famous prayer from the late mystic Thomas Merton: “My…God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself…(but) I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”
Queries:
When have you been nudged to leave the known for the unknown? Did you respond to the call? How did that go? If you haven’t responded yet, what holds you back?
Who are those in our world, distant or close, stranger or friend, who have left the known for the unknown? How were they received by others or by us?