I am on a Journey, a pilgrimage. It is difficult to determine the starting point of this journey. The end point is likewise vague: to know God, and what he desires from me. This may sound somewhat familiar to Pilgrim’s Progress, but don’t try to make too many comparisons. It may also sound a bit like the parable of two roads in Matthew, but again, don’t try to keep to that paradigm or it will appear that I am terribly lost! (Maybe I am?)
It is as if I am on a path, climbing a mountain. The top of the mountain is enveloped in a cloud, hiding the peak, the ultimate destination. The path generally progresses upward, but at times moves around the mountain, and even occasionally dips back downhill. It is generally bordered by tall trees and bushes, which obscure the view even a few hundred feet ahead, so that it is impossible to predict where the path is leading until I am there. Occasionally it breaks out into an open field where sun, sky and the clouds enveloping the summit of the mountain are clearly visible. At times the overgrowth is so thick the path is barely distinguishable. At times it is level and easy to walk, at times very steep and slippery.
Unlike the Matthew roads, there are several branches to this path. Some diverge, possibly to converge again later on, possibly going another way, possibly up the mountain, possibly back to the base. It is impossible to tell where any branch may ultimately lead without taking it!
I have found many companions on the path. Some remain seated at a comfortable place along the way, pointing a direction they would or would not take. Others are resting after a particularly difficult stretch. And yet others are moving along the same path for the moment, some having joined from another branch that just converged, some having returned from scouting out the way further along, to give guidance to those that follow, but many traveling the same trail that I am on. Some walk ahead of me, some behind, and some beside me. Our relative positions sometimes change. When some of my companions reach terrain specifically suited to them, they sprint ahead. At other times, they may lag behind, or even sit down for a rest.
My companions are an interesting mix of people, some living, some dead; family, clergy, authors, teachers, and “ordinary” people. The list is long, but some of the more recently influential ones include Don Miller, Brian McLaren, N.T. Wright, my wife Becky, Ed Cardwell, Wes White, Fred Ramsey, some of my students, Oscar Romero, Miroslav Volf, Jürgen Moltmann, Paul Risler, Keith Wasserman. The list could go on and on.
The top of the mountain beckons, although obscure. I believe there is something worthwhile, wonderful, awaiting there. I have read about it and heard about it all my life. Some of the stories sound a bit exaggerated or use metaphorical language that leaves me scratching my head. But in faith I proceed, yet with some apprehension. I can’t see clearly the destination, nor even the path ahead of me! And I have invited and encouraged others to follow! Where am I going? Where am I leading them?
In a way that seems familiar, yet vague, unclear, incomplete, I hear a voice from the mountaintop beckoning, encouraging, calling to come and see, come and rest, come and eat, come and know.
Dave Drozek
Thoughts from Athens
PS: in response to a reader who felt I was confused and lost, I wrote:
“Actually, I don’t feel confused, but feel as if I see more clearly than I have for many years! Part of the problem was I thought I could see in the dark! Now that there is more light, I realize how poorly I was seeing! I am re-asking questions that no longer seem to fit the answers I once knew so well!
Christ and the cross is solidly before me as the hope, the goal, the example, the redemption. I am simply discovering A New Kind of Christianity!”
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