A chance meeting in the desert

"The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom." -- Isaiah 35:1

A lifelong dream was fulfilled for my wife Jan in June as we boarded the Amtrak for the Grand Canyon. Vast, desolate and yet alive with magnificent blooming plants of all sorts, the desert Southwest is an awe-inspiring part of the world. For me, this was the first leg of a four-week "renewal leave." So, for the entire journey it was a time to pay attention to God, who I "saw" and "heard" in unexpected ways.

I've always liked the train as a mode of travel. It is an experience in and of itself, with the dinner car being the best part. In addition to good food and beautiful scenery, the dining car is the place to meet new friends. As no one is allowed the luxury of dining alone, Jan and I joined Kim and William who were traveling singly. For one brief hour we explored the world together.

Kim I understood. A lay church worker, she was on her way to Ghost Ranch in the New Mexico desert. The theme was to be "There is enough for everyone in God's abundant creation." This was a paradox, I thought, since we were at that moment passing through what to this Iowa boy looked like the perfect wasteland.

William, on the other hand, was quick to say that he was non-religious but loved the Christian culture: The music, the art, the ritual. He explained, as we rolled along, that he was a great collector of religious memorabilia, in particular the hand held fans that funeral homes used to place in the church pews. You know the ones with pictures of children with puppies or The Last Supper. I was amazed when he reported that he was preparing a display that he hoped would be exhibited at the Smithsonian. By this time, the conversation had digressed beyond my range of interest and I was ready to order dessert.

But then it happened. God showed up. Like the surprise and delight of a flower blooming in the desert, William said something I needed to hear. He explained that he loved the church of his childhood, but the two things that he most longs for today are "fellowship" and "reverence," as he no longer finds them in his experience of "church."

Was he now the prophet, like John the Baptist in strange clothes crying in the wilderness, "Prepare ye the way of the Lord"?

Certainly, his words caught my attention and gave me reason to ponder the kinds of "fellowship" and "reverence" to be found in our churches today. Do others find our "fellowship" to be phony and our "reverence" shallow? What do the Williams of the world find when they come needing to experience the holy? Do we notice when they are turned off? Do we pay attention when they turn away?

I would never have known William's story if it hadn't been for a chance meeting in the dining car of a train traveling through the desert. For me, the surprise I found there is still in bloom.