Many years ago the British wanted to build a golf course in Calcutta, India.  This was not an easy project to conjure up.  But bringing a little civilization to this backward land seemed worth it.  So, they started to plan.  Laid out the course.  The fairways and the greens.  Even a clubhouse.  What’s a respectable golf course without some place to mingle and drink?  Share tall tales.  Make connections.

After all the labor and the reshaping of the landscape, their vanity project was finally finished.  They were exceptionally pleased with themselves.  British engineering at its best.  Time to enjoy.  At least that’s what they thought.

When the first foursome teed off from the first hole, something unexpected occurred.  Something they did not plan on.  To say the least.  Monkeys.  These rascally creatures did not want to just be speculators, they wanted to be participants.  What’s a game if they can't play?  So, each time a player hit a ball, they would jump out of a tree, chase down the ball like a game of fetch, then fling it in whatever direction struck their fancy.  Talk about a nuisance!

At first, the British tried the kind and gentle approach.  Talk to them.  Shoo them away.  It was, after all, kind of cute.  But when that didn’t work, they built a barrier.  Wall them off.  A high fence.  All around the course.  But these monkeys had a knack for climbing things.  Who knew?  Well, the builders were not deterred.  After all, for a nation that had conquered nearly one fourth of the entire world, this was another day in the park.  Thus, they decided to relocate these monkeys.  Capture them and rezone them to another area.  But there were just so many of them.  What do you do? 

There are times in life when you just need to go with the flow.  Put on a smile, admit defeat, and adjust.  And that’s what they did.  They wrote a new rule into their version of golf at this particular club.  It read: “You have to play the ball where the monkey drops it.”

Perhaps you can sympathize.  Sometimes our lives feel like this golf course.  Lots of planning.  Great effort to bring it to life.  And yet, things just don’t pan out the way you had envisioned.  Not exactly.  Sometimes not even close.  Could be a new job.  Walking down the aisle.  Raising a child.  The college you had hoped to get in.  Perhaps retirement.  Just when everything seems perfect, it feels like a monkey comes along and picks up that dream and throws it in whatever direction strikes its fancy.  What do you do?

I wonder if the disciples had felt this way.  They were part of the  inaugural class of God’s kingdom project.  Getting in on the ground floor.  An enterprise with the highest backing.  How can it fail?  All the pieces were in place.  The Messiah.  The Message.  And the Messengers.  Twelve of them.  One for each of the twelve tribes.  Everything just right.

That is, until Judas picks up that golf ball and throws it in a direction no one expected.  Judas of all people.  My guess is that you put the one everyone trusted the most as the keeper of the funds.  Only clean hands should touch cash.  But of all people, Judas has betrayed the future King.  Hand delivered him to his enemies.  And not just Jesus, but all who followed him.  Judas had betrayed them all.  Talk about an unexpected contingency.  Crushed spirits.

Yet several weeks later, we find these same individuals in a room writing a new rule.  Wherever the ball drops, that’s where we’ll play.  Lose a disciple.  Cast lots.  Find a replacement.  From eleven, that most uneven of numbers, to twelve, the number of completion.  Back to a dozen.  Why the change? 

We catch a glimpse of their mindset in Peter’s pep talk to his teammates in Acts 1:15-26.  Peter doesn’t pull any punches.  “Look brothers.  I get it.  One who was considered an insider was the very leak.  One who served together with us in the ministry was the traitor.  The one we trusted with our finances led our Jesus into hands that were itching to destroy him.  But it is all right.  We will simply go with the flow.  Replace Judas with one of the seventy who had been with us from the beginning.  We will let the Lord guide in that choice.  For this unexpected twist of turns had to occur because “the Scripture had to be fulfilled.” 

What a foundational truth to build our lives around.  For while we cannot account for all the contingencies of life, there is One who has foreseen every single monkey that crosses our path.  No matter where that ball lands, He is already there.  Nothing surprises him.  For He had laid out a course that had already taken into account this deviation way before the thought had even entered into Judas’s mind.  And the best truth of all: He has our back.  And this is His promise.  That even though life may have more zigzag than we had planned, we will, at the end of the day, complete the final hole.

There is no better place to go in the summer than the beach.  Especially if you are a water person.  But there’s a warning.  You can see it posted every few yards along the paths that lead you to that vast ocean: Warning.  Possible Rip Tides.  Swim with Caution. 

I never experienced a rip tide.  Heard of them.  These are currents that flow from the shore out into the sea.  When caught in one it feels like a fast moving escalator that kidnaps you and sweeps you away from your loved ones.  And for the inexperienced, panic strikes.  Fight or flight instinct kicks in.  And you start fighting against the current towards safety.  Towards land.  But this is the wrong strategy.  There are two options.  If you have the strength, swim parallel to the beach.  Or, just go with the flow.  The current will die down and you will be free to swim back.  Counterintuitive?  Of course.  Our gut reaction is to take matters into our own hands.  Take greater control.  Work harder.  More detailed plans.  But for us followers of the one who constructed the world and planned for every possible contingency, sometimes the wisest move we can make is to go with the flow.  Allow the current of his sovereignty carry us along.  For while we may not know the twists and turns, we do know our final destination.