The Odyssey: A Dog and a Dogged Old Man

Homer's The Odyssey is an epic adventure and Christopher Nolan's take on the classic doesn't disappoint—from the intensity of the cyclops, to the torture of the sirens' songs, to the cunning trick of the Trojan horse. This is the summer popcorn movie I’ve been waiting for.

Even with three hours of nonstop action, the moment that stuck with me after seeing the film twice (currently trying to convince my wife to go with me to see it a third time), had nothing to do with swords or sandals. It was all about Argos, a tired, old dog.

After 20 years away—a decade spent fighting a war, followed by a decade trying to return—Odysseus, king of Ithaca, finally makes it back home. But things have changed. The city seems to have forgotten him. Ruthless men are trying to steal his wife and seize his rightful throne. The whole place is in chaos. So the cunning king comes up with a plan.

Odysseus disguises himself as a beggar in order to find those who are still loyal to him. No one recognizes their king. Not his most trusted servant, none of the citizens of Ithaca, not even his beloved wife Penelope. Odysseus has become more myth than man after two decades away.

The only one who can see through his disguise is his beloved dog, Argos. The old hunting hound is crippled with age, lying outside his master’s home still waiting for his return. When Odysseus makes his way to him, Argos lifts his head, wags his tail, and breathes his last. Argos never lost hope, and with his final breath, recognizes the rightful king has returned.

It is a touching and powerful moment—of connection, of patience, and of persistence. In this masterpiece of a film, the character with the most unwavering faith had a tail and four legs.

While it’s known for its action, The Odyssey is really a story about waiting. Penelope and Telemachus wait to see if their husband and father will ever come back home. The citizens of Ithaca wait to see if their king will return to his throne. A whole host of suitors, with selfish intent, wait for their chance to woo Penelope and take Odysseus’ position of power. Even the army our hero leads waits ten years outside Troy before conquering the city.

Everyone is waiting, all the time. This is the most believable part of the entire myth, because it’s so true to life. Waiting is part of living. And it never gets easy.

A Dogged Old Man

The scene with Argos reminded me of another faithful character who waited his entire life for the arrival of a long-promised king. His story is recorded in one of the biographies of Jesus. It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, but it packs a punch.

When we meet him, Simeon is an old man. At some point in his life, he had been given a promise by the Holy Spirit that he would not die until he had seen the long-awaited Messiah. Scripture isn’t clear when Simeon received that promise, and how long he had been waiting, but like our friend Argos, it’s highly possible the old man had been waiting decades.

Receiving the promise would have been exciting at first, but the waiting must have felt like a weight. Will today be the day? What is the Messiah waiting for? Did I misunderstand? What is taking so long? Is it possible I missed it? As the years turned into decades, it must have been tempting for his hope to turn to doubt.

Then one day, when he’s in the temple, Mary and Joseph walk in and there before his eyes is the One he had been waiting for. When he sees the baby Jesus, he prays out loud:

“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.” - Luke 2:29-32

The waiting is over. The king has arrived. Simeon’s dogged faith (see what I did there? That’s a dad joke about Argos. You’re welcome) has paid off. His story can come to a peaceful end.

Waiting Sucks

Like Argos and Simeon, we’re all waiting for something. Maybe it’s a job offer or a housing contract; a romantic relationship or a cure for a disease; an apology from an estranged parent or justice for a past wrong. Whatever you’re waiting for, I feel confident that we’d all agree on one thing: waiting sucks.

While it doesn’t make the time pass any faster, it’s comforting to realize that waiting was just as much a part of the lives of the heroes of faith as it is part of my own story. Maybe waiting isn’t a flaw, but a feature, in a life of faith.

Just a quick overview of scripture showing this to be the case:

• Abraham and Sarah waited 25 years for the child they were promised.
• Joseph waited 2 years to be rescued from wrongful imprisonment.
• The ancient Israelites waited 40 years in the desert before they got to the Promised Land.
• After the prophet Malachi, the people of God waited 400 years for a fresh word from Him, eventually coming through John the Baptist.
• Anna waited decades before she finally got to see the promised Messiah.
• Jesus spent three days in the tomb before his resurrection changed life on this planet permanently.

There are very few guarantees in life. One of them is that we’re going to be waiting for something. There is no way around it. But there is some good news— waiting is when our story actually takes place. It’s the old adage: “It’s the journey, not the destination.”

I know, I know. I just threw up on my keyboard writing that. I hate that piece of cheese-ball wisdom as much as the next person, but it does hold a certain amount of truth.

The tale of a mythic king who went to war and returned in a week wouldn’t make for compelling storytelling. And the same goes for all the Biblical stories highlighted above. The tension and the life change build in the waiting. It’s the gym time that develops our spiritual muscles, shaping who we will become.

Waiting doesn’t mean we’re sitting on our hands, doing nothing. It’s what we do in the waiting that eventually propels our life forward.

What To Do When You’re Waiting

In a fast-paced world, the Scriptures’ consistent instruction to “wait on the Lord” (here, here, and here, for instance) seems old-fashioned. What does that actually mean? Do I have to stay home on the couch until God specifically tells me to do something? If the example of the heroes of faith is to be trusted, the answer to that question is an emphatic “no.”

While God is never rushed, He is a God of action—and His people do likewise. It sounds counterintuitive at first, but one of the best ways to wait on the Lord is to get your hands dirty.

A spiritual mentor of mine explained it this way:

"Waiting on the Lord doesn’t mean doing nothing. Instead, it means not-getting-in-front-of-God, not outpacing Him. You do that best by being faithful to the last thing He told you to do. Keep hitting that nail until He asks you to hit a new one."

That’s what we see the heroes of the Bible doing. God told Abraham and Sarah to move to a new homeland, and so they did, while waiting 25 years for the baby they were promised. Joseph spent two years in prison honing God-given skills that would take him from the dungeon to second-in-command in Egypt. The Israelites needed 40 years in the desert to learn dependence on God and how to live according to His commands. The people of God spent the 400 years of silence doing the last thing they’d heard from Malachi, keeping God’s law and looking for the prophet that would announce the Messiah—our main man, John the Baptist. Anna kept coming to the temple looking for the long-promised king… and while there, she surely bumped into the dogged old man, Simeon, looking for the same thing.

You won’t get cultural glory or recognition for faithfulness, but it does catch the eye of God. Jesus himself explained that those who are faithful in small things can be trusted with bigger things; an ancient prophet told a king of Israel that God’s eyes were roaming the earth to find those faithful to Him; and an early missionary taught Christians all over the Mediterranean that it was impossible to please God without faith.

Even if it takes you 20 years to do the last thing God prompted you to do, keep going. Just like heroes mythic and Biblical, the journey is forming you.

(Not sure what God would want you to do? Here’s a simple formula I’ve been using to hear from God, and it only takes five minutes a day.)

The Waiting Is the Hardest (And Most Important) Part

The prophet, Tom Petty, sums it up the best: “The waiting is the hardest part.” But when you lean into the waiting, instead of fighting it, I believe you just might find it’s the most important part—the part where spiritual muscles get built, faith is grown, and your story unfolds in the most unexpected ways.

I’m willing to bet you don’t have a 20-year journey through the Mediterranean in your future. But I’m confident you will have to wait, push through discomfort, and learn persistence by doing something, or being somewhere, much longer than you anticipated. Don’t give up. Being in the waiting is never fun in the moment, but it is where characters come to life. It’s where our stories take place. It’s what becomes our fuel and our currency to do the next thing. It’s where faith is developed.

The theologian who inspired all your favorite pastors, Dallas Willard, once said, “We don't believe something by merely saying we believe it, or even when we believe that we believe it— we believe something when we act as if it were true."

I’m trying to have the faith of a dog, and a dogged old man, pushing through the waiting to the promises on the other side, acting out my faith to develop muscles that will carry my life forward.

That’s an odyssey worth giving your life to—even if it means waiting.