by Paul Jones
Robert Frost’s well-known poem, The Road Not Taken, reflects on the lasting consequences of life choices. It begins with these words:
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood…
In those long moments of standing still, we discern. We listen. We open our hands and seek the peace that surpasses human understanding about which path to take. As Frost puts it in the poem, we look down each path as far as our eye can see. We discuss futures with our whanau, imagine what is possible, and consider what is probable. But then we must choose. The poem goes on to recognise that taking one path means forfeiting other possibilities, that the decisions we make take us down paths from which we cannot turn back due to the relentless march of time. As many of us know, reflection on this reality can lead to sobering regret, tears of gratitude, and everything in between. As a Christian, Frost’s poem is a reminder of how important it is for us to learn how to discern well. For life’s paths should not be a game of chance, but a matter of listening to the voice of Jesus at each crossroad.
As I commence working in the role of Principal at Carey Baptist College in Aotearoa, I have been acutely aware that opportunities like this ─ to serve God by co-leading the people of God ─ don’t just fall out of the sky. There is a road behind me leading to this juncture, and as I get to know many of the teachers, students and pastors I will be working with in years to come, our conversations often turn to this: how did we come to be where we are, doing the things we’re doing in God’s service? In the spirit of these conversations and in light of the intersection (or ‘ditch’) that my family and I have recently crossed, I thought I’d take this opportunity to reflect briefly on the paths that have led me to Carey as a way of introducing myself.
Life begins for each of us on a path we did not choose, a path determined by the choices of our parents and grandparents. For me, my first 10 years were spent in an international Christian boarding school in Nigeria, where I was immersed in cultural diversity and Christian values, two powerful influences that would direct my life’s trajectory. From an African village and culture in my primary years, I was catapulted into an Australian private school education for my secondary/high school years. Talk about two different worlds! The contrast was jarring, shocking at times, but it forced me to adapt and become more sensitive to the world(s) around me.
With my secondary education behind me, I faced my first big life-choice: what next? I went with my newfound passion for singing at the piano and completed a two-year jazz performance course. I didn’t realise at the time that this path would lead to a range of wonderful experiences: performing at weddings; leading worship; teaching piano; frequenting jazz bars. All of it was enriching. The next fork in the road led to theological study, a path I took because it put firm ground beneath my feet. I had little sense of where it might lead or what it could offer in terms of ‘real job options’, but as it turned out, wrestling with Scripture’s meaning for today’s church would become a lifelong pursuit. In many respects, it’s the main road I continue to walk today. Other paths along the way have led to secondary teaching, El Camino de Santiago, a PhD in Old Testament studies, overseas mission, marriage and family life, University chaplaincy, numerous international moves, and the writing of articles and books for both the academy and the church. But what’s amazing to me as I look over my shoulder as a 50-year-old is that each of those paths is interconnected somehow, that each has led naturally to another. There is a beautiful intentionality about it all — but not by my design! I am not so much proud of decisions made as I am grateful for grace. And from where I stand today, at Carey Baptist College in Auckland, it appears that the paths I’ve taken have led precisely to this place and the amazing people with whom I now serve. Have I made mistakes? Sure. Have I wasted time? Absolutely. But one of the mysteries of a life lived under God is the way he restores purpose and meaning to human brokenness and aimlessness. In other words, disciples walk roads of redemption.
It is for this reason, as I have come to forks in the road over the years, that I have been intentional about seeking divine guidance. Not always in the same way (actually, I have found it unwise to assume that God always speaks in the same ways) but I can say with some certainty, along with the speaker in Frost’s poem, that taking the path less travelled ‘has made all the difference’. I am now grateful for the road behind, which makes more sense in hindsight than it did when I stepped out in faith. And I am hopeful about paths that still lie ahead — because whether we see him clearly or not at all, Jesus leads the way.
Thanks for sharing this Paul I identify with much of it. My journeys sometimes unexpected at other times wayward while a Baptist minister for some of it led me in my early 50s to lecturing at Knox and becoming Presbyterian as well as teaching at Otago and I could see it was the place God had been preparing me for. At 76 I am still in ministry in a Presbyterian church. Last year I enjoyed a reunion of those who trained at Baptist College in the 1970s and look forward to meeting you at the College centenary next year.