Here's a tune, that I first heard as a teenager, written by guys in their twenties, that speaks to me loud and clear as a forty-year old. It speaks of maps - detailed charts of places and directions, and legends - fanciful stories of adventure and meaning. Do the legends of what we hope for in life really exist, and are there maps to lead us there? Or are the old maps we own flawed, promising a way to a destination that is no longer there?
Stipe sings: Not to be reached, it is to be reached.
Jonah was given a map - a specific route his life was to take, but he refused. He chose the legend - the furthest outpost of his known world, Tarshish. I get that. Having been burned before by the maps, I find choosing the legend an attractive option: something far away, something exotic, somewhere with greener grass. But is that just getting caught in the legend, caught in the mood? Maybe I just need a better map!
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