“At one time or another we are all called to leave the safety of our homes, the certainty of what we know, the illusions of who we are. Not everyone will heed this call, of course. And those who do will risk losing themselves completely. But if we choose to ignore the invitation, we risk never knowing who we might have become. We risk dying without knowing what it is to live.”
― Thomas Lloyd Qualls, Painted Oxen
A quest narrative is one of the oldest ways to tell a story. The Greek myth of Jason and the Argonauts, the Odyssey, or the stories of King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable; all of these are quest narratives. Some of our most popular and endearing stories are about quests: Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy.
The form of a quest narrative is simple. The story begins with the protagonist or the author sharing a desire to experience something or to discover something. And so begins the adventurous journey to obtain the object of the quest. Along the way, there are challenges to face and obstacles to overcome. In the end, the quester returns, and here is one of the most meaningful parts of the narrative. The quester realizes that the real treasure they have found is the knowledge and wisdom that comes from the journey they have taken.
One of the original meanings of quest is to seek game or to hunt. With a quest you are seeking something that will give you sustenance, meaning, life. This type of journey goes far beyond visiting or sightseeing.
What makes questing a spiritual practice? It is the object or goal of the journey.
If you go to the website of the church where I served for almost 17 years (www.fccnorman.org), your eyes are drawn to this statement: We are a community joined together in a reverent, thoughtful, loving quest for faith. Questing as a spiritual practice is a quest for faith, a quest for ultimate meaning, a quest for God.
Questing has been a part of the Jewish and Christian faiths from the very beginning. In the Jewish scriptures, the story of the people of Israel begins with the call of Abraham to leave his homeland and go to a place where God will lead him. There is the story of Jacob leaving his family and returning to them a changed person. Following the Exodus, the Hebrew people are on a quest from slavery into freedom. The journey into exile, while forced upon the people of Israel, is an invitation for them to discover the truth of their identity and how they had strayed from it.
In the Christian scriptures, Jesus did not set up a school for people to come and learn from him. He moved about from place to place. His encounters with the people he met changed them, but perhaps he was changed by them as well. This moving about was part of Jesus’ quest.
Perhaps the reason the quest narrative is so pervasive and so powerful is that it is foundational; it is part of who we are as human beings.
While we enjoy the rhythm and routine of life there is some part of us that becomes dissatisfied with the status quo. There is some part of us that wants to explore, to discover, to experience. Gregg Levoy says that “Researchers looking for the traits that characterize those people who tend to flourish in life have found that such people tend to score high in novelty-seeking behavior. Ironically, they also score high on persistence, which might seem incompatible but isn’t” (https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/passion/202206/questing-the-happiness-pursuit). It is not incompatible because questing is about delving deep into something that is attractive and meaningful to you.
Here, then, is both the challenge and the invitation of questing.
Our daily living settles into a rhythm. We are in the company of the same people. We do the same activities. We have the same responses to all that is happening in the world around us. And yet, this rhythm of life can become a routine and a rut. We are living on autopilot, going through the motions of life without any deep awareness.
And at some point, we feel something else. We feel that yearning for newness, for something bigger, for something that we might not even considered that might give life meaning or take life in a new direction. We feel the invitation to a quest. And yet, we know that this kind of spiritual journey can mean upheaval, so, we feel the temptation to return to the rhythm of the sameness.
Part of the spiritual practice of questing is to feel the struggle between these two parts of our selves. One of these two tendencies can dominate to the detriment of the other. For some, the restlessness they feel is an expression of avoidance. I don’t want to deal with what is happening in my life. There is something I don’t want to face. There is something I don’t want to feel. So, I will distract myself with something else, like staying busy or finding a new job or a new relationship.
For others, the desire to settle into the status quo is fear of the unknown. Some part of us knows that questing involves newness. You may encounter new ideas and learn new things, which are different from the old, and yet, seem to have some attraction. You will meet new people. You may learn new patterns for living which mean you will need to unlearn the old ones.
Questing as a spiritual practice can involve a particular journey or action that you are taking, like going on a pilgrimage to a religious or spiritual site. But there are ways that questing can be an image that we use to shape the journey of faith that makes up our everyday living. In my next post, I will offer some ways that we can weave the spiritual practice of questing into the rhythm of our lives.
What are your thoughts and feelings about questing as a spiritual practice? How are you feeling the tug between the status quo and the yearning for newness? How are you part of a “community joined together in a reverent, thoughtful, loving quest for faith”?