Clergy Conference: LOST!

I spent the last three days in the Gray's Center near Jackson, Mississippi at our annual clergy conference. On Tuesday afternoon during free time I decided to take a break from reading and go outside and move for a bit (it was a muggy, ninetey degrees so I dare not say I went for fresh air!). Last year the trail took me about 45 minutes to walk. I figured I had plenty of time to get back, call my wife, shower and read a bit more.

The first twenty five minutes were uneventful as I carefully followed the blue markers of the outer trail. Then the path began to be more overgrown and I even had to climb through a fallen tree. More and more stickers invaded my shoes and bites and scratches began to accumulate on my lower legs. Mud holes gave way to much larger puddles; the slick mud was like ice. Twice I slipped and almost fell. My white shoes were caked in mud. I was not enjoying the walk, and I kept aware of the location of the sun and timed the distance between each blue marker. Roughly every thirty to sixty seconds I crossed one. They were numbered (out of fifty five) so I slowly watched the numbers grow through the twenties, and finally I got to thirty one. I figured another ten minutes or so and I would be back. At that point there was an arrow pointing straight up in the air.  To my right the path seemed to be better kept up and more traveled. I relaxed as I finally felt I could make better time.

After a few minutes the path was obviously a dirt road with numerous tire tracks. There were no blue markers. I kept walking, hoping it would break through to the facility at any moment. Finally I admitted to myself this was not a path, so I hurried back to where I had made the turn. Or so I thought. For the next hour I wandered first one dirt road, then another. I was obviously on a system of dirt roads used to take care of the electic lines on the poles which stretched endlessly above me and into the distance... My initial concern about spending too much time gave way to a more serious concern. I had no idea where I was and the more I walked the more confused I got. The prospect of spending the night as a mosquito buffet crossed my mind. More serious possibilities also whispered their presence.

I turned to prayer. I kept walking and trying not to worry. The problem is I was in an isolated area where one could literally walk ten miles and never see anyone. I was not sure how easy it would be to find me if I could not find my way back. I never was able to return to the marked path of the trail.

Instead,  I found a gate and came out on a road. I chased down a man on a tractor, told  him I was lost, and he instructed me that I could take the road "that way" (he pointed) and "it was about a mile." Sweaty and tired, I walked quickly down the road for another twenty minutes. Upon arrival, I entered the dining room, fifteen minutes late for supper, my forty five minute jaunt having blossomed into a two hour adventure. I admitted my folly and was soundly celebrated (and mocked) at the meeting which followed.

The experience was similar to life in the church. Scripture and Tradition provide a marked path. God has provided us with revelation of His will. Sometimes we are led astray. On our own, following our own intuitions, we wander. Sometimes we are led home by the Spirit. Other times we perish.

The Lord Jesus once said that we should take the narrow way. He warned that the road of destruction is wide and many take it. I had done just that. I left a walkers path and enterred a dirt road and I did not pay attention to the lack of blue markers. I just decided that it must  be okay, even when it wasn't. Once I had gone far enough I lost a sense of where I was. I tried to return, but it looked different and one wrong turn was compounded by another. Errors are covered over by "good intentions" with no effect. While I was not harmed nor was my life threatened, I was in a position where I could have ended up that way. I am well aware that my happy ending could have different.

We struggle, as church, to make sense of the teachings of Jesus. Liberals err in their direction, but conservatives do the same in our own way. Moderates moderately distort, less radical but no less wrong than the extremists to left and right. Even those who do get it right most of the time only get it right most of the time. It is the some of the time that they get it wrong that creates the problems.

The thing about wrong turns is sometimes you don't get back to the path. I ended up over two miles from where I was supposed to be. Two miles off on foot is a long way. I would never have believed I was that far off until I actually saw it. It is terrifying to think about how far off we (you and I) are from the path of Christ. It is well marked, but sometimes we stop paying attention. Thankfully God heard my prayer (Be a light upon my path and show me Your way. Lead me, O Lord). The road which led me out seemed to change somehow. In the place where I expected a fork there was none. I am befuddled by that and felt forced to continue on the road I was on, that is where I saw the gate, and beyond that the blacktop. Not saying a miracle happened with the topography, just that something happened with my perception of it which got me to where I needed to be.

I am greatful for that blessing, more greatful for God's mercy in bringing me back to the righ path when I stray. I plan to share the experiences at our conference the next few days. I think we as church have to come to grips with how far off the path we have wandered. I hope such reflections might aid others in their journey. But above all it is vital to remember that God saves!