"Of Course"

Such a common phrase. We hear it all the time, and everyone knows what it means, despite the many ways it’s used. When we’re sure of something, when something turns out as we expect, when we agree that something is true, when we politely grant permission.

But here’s the thing. While an idea can be expressed in multiple ways, word choice does matter. We may substitute other phrases for a lack of surprise or to grant permission, but when it comes to the “course” of life, there really aren’t options. Or at least, only one actually leads to life.

Jesus expressed this idea when he said things like “No one comes to the Father except through me.” And, “Narrow is the way that leads to life, and few are those who find it.” It’s the essence of his identity as “the Way, the Truth, the Life.”

Okay. So say I. But why should you believe it? Or, more importantly, do anything about it? The answer lies in the word itself.

A course is defined as the path, route, or channel along which anything moves. The course we’re talking about here is life itself. As an anthropologist, I study various ways people have invented for doing the things of life. This is what makes culture humanity’s primary adaptive strategy, and gives it such incredible richness. But cultural diversity is not the course of life.

Life—existence, the universe, human history—is headed somewhere. It follows a preset channel toward that end. Whether we know where we’re going, or go willingly, won’t make the journey any easier, but it will make all the difference when we arrive. We all end up in the same place, you see. Not the grave but what happens next. For some it will be heaven and for some, well, not so much. Given the choice, choose well.

This is the premise behind the “Why Is Life So Hard?” Series: the world follows a path aimed at an eternity in the presence of its Creator. All that has happened and will happen—sacred and secular history included—moves us toward existence where the holiness of God fills everything in every way. The course is set and we’re heading toward it, whatever we believe and however we live. The third volume, “God’s Ways,” addresses the idea that God shows us how to live on the boat as we navigate the channel. Whether we accept his guidance or follow our own, your life and mine will meet the ocean of eternity at the very same spot—the judgment seat of God.

Some may disagree with the premise. I dare say many do. The only thing that really matters is how well we’ve prepared for what awaits us on the other side of death. To wait until we get there to find out there really is an afterlife, is a little like hoping we won’t get wet standing in the rain.

The notion of an afterlife is ancient. The earliest hominid graves contain items suggestive of it. Just because we moderns don’t like the options religion provides doesn’t mean none exists. Of course they may have gotten it wrong, but that doesn’t negate the fact that every culture believes in one. Furthermore, every culture has its myths, and what they tell us is not so much about origins as ends. They can’t all be “true,” but they are all real. People know—and have always known—that this life is not all there is.

Murky waters there, I know, and I’m not out to convert anyone. I do want to suggest that if we have no say in whether or not an afterlife exists, at least we should find ways to make life a little smoother for ourselves. At the very least, it’s prudent to consider the wisdom of aligning our lives with a guiding principle. The poets tell us that we are born adrift—well some of them do. And that’s how we live out our days, unless we find a way to connect with where we’re headed. All the trouble in life comes from someone, us or others, living as they please with no thought to where the world is heading.

Maybe the only thing that will help us overcome life’s hardships, to make sense of them, is to understand how this world is linked with the next. Are they even connected? If so, how? Answers to such questions won’t prevent the bad things, but they help us navigate when they do happen, much as a sailor learns to walk on a rolling ship.

The whole world, like a ship knocked around by heaving waves on a storm-tossed sea, is still going to arrive where it needs to go. Just so, creation sways and tips its way to eternity. Sometimes the best we can do is get into the right-facing boat and hold on for dear life. We can’t change the sea, and we can’t change the course. But we can learn to live on the ship.

As luck would have it, there’s a way to discover the strange movement required to survive and thrive: Figure out how life is supposed to work. A fairly reliable resource is the Bible. At the very least it describes life as it is and as God created it to be. We must be careful how we read it, not as a religious tome, let alone a legal code. The thing about the Word of God is that it discloses “Life at Its Best” by telling stories of God dealing with people. True, the shortest path to good behavior is well-articulated expectations. But what really changes us is a good story well told. Tales of individuals and nations embody not so much what pleases and displeases God as what supports—or thwarts—the progress of life along its channel. We can learn the same.

Another aspect of the Bible helps our metaphor as well. It reads, if you will, like the account of a boat-builder who got on his ship and set sail with other passengers. The boat ran badly, and many people suffered. He fixed what he could, doing his best to teach others how to live on the damaged boat. Most paid no attention, and those who did were easily sidetracked by their beautiful staterooms, forgetting it was even a boat, or that it was going somewhere.

Those who took his instructions to heart found a kind of peace with the need to finish the ride despite the boat’s troubles. They didn’t try to figure out how boats work, neither did they create rules for life on the boat. No, their secret lay in watching and imitating the boat-builder. The way he did things made boat-life more pleasant, whether a kind word or a shared meal or a cup of water. Simple things made life better, and that was the most they hoped for on the boat. After all, he had been to where they were headed. Soon enough, all the troubles of getting there would be behind them.

The Bible is certainly a record of such instructions, and anyone who wants peace on the journey should study it. But it’s something more, too. In its pages we get to know Mr. Boat Builder for ourselves. We can talk to him and watch him interact with others. We can learn to imitate him. He will travel with any who invite him aboard.

I guarantee his friendship will lighten the strain of life on the boat that carries you, with all its troubles, straight to port.