A seminary professor of mine, Dr. Craig Barnes, had a habit of saying “people prefer the misery they know to the mystery they don’t yet know.” Indeed, as people, we prefer to stick to what we know – be that comfortable conversational topics, familiar television shows, the usual meals. Or more pressing, being nearer to people who look like us, people who think and talk like us, or places that are familiar rather than new.

It’s our human nature to go with what we already know. We prefer to be confident rather than unsure. We prefer to be in the know rather than in the mystery.

What might we be opened up to if we lean into what we don’t yet know? Into a beautiful and unfamiliar mystery? What if we turned our attitude a bit more towards learning, even as grown adults?

Scripture is rife with examples of this – the Israelites escaping the misery of oppression in Egypt to wander into a land they don’t yet know but one that is promised to be good.

The disciples follow Jesus without really knowing anything about him except that he has called them. Paul converts to a whole new way of life, one that he was long afraid of. The early churches buck the trend of their day and follow Christ rather than following what they are familiar with. Jesus himself even learns in his earthly ministry – he learns the pains of the Syrophoenician woman, he learns the hurt of the woman at the well, he learns the longings of God’s people.

And into all that mystery, in the learning, God brings goodness. It is the way of God.

Moving into this Lenten season, I wonder how we might open ourselves up to what we don’t yet know. Perhaps that comes in the form of learning new things, meeting new people, becoming familiar with a different walk of life. Maybe it is challenging ourselves to try that one thing we’ve been afraid of for years – a new class? A new friend? A different book? A challenge?