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Are We There Yet?

Recently I was sitting in the silence of a Quaker meeting for worship.  I appreciate the chance to do this.  I enjoy the silence of a group together.  It is so countercultural.  When they are together, Americans have a difficult time not talking all the time.  Sometimes it does not even matter if someone is listening.  It reminds me of watching people talk on their phones while they are doing another task.  Of course, they are not really listening.  They hear a voice on the other end of the connection and they may even be nodding their heads, but nothing in really going in the ears attached to that head!

Quakers historically gathered in expectant silence so they could wait for the voice of God, whom they believed would “speak” to them.  It is either a stupid exercise or an audacious move on their part.  Silence is not the goal; it is the means.  We are waiting for a word---even the Word.  But we don’t want chatter---even if it is religious chatter---going on to distract us.  It is not meant to belittle a different tradition, but it is an alternative way of going about it.

We do expect God will speak.  And God likely will speak to someone else.  And if God speaks to someone and they choose to share it, then I have received a divine message, too.  I am good with that.  And so it was that morning the voice of an older woman broke the silence by her word for us.  It was a short story, told without much interpretation.  And then, I began to engage the story.  As if it were a pebble, I began to turn it over and over in my mind.  This is where I am so far in my process.

A two-humped camel began a trip across the desert with a father and son on for the ride.  The desert is an apt image and is an important part of the story.  Not too long into the journey, the son turns to the father and asks, “Are we there, yet?”  I may have laughed out loud at that point in worship.  I thought about how many times I have been asked that question.  With two daughters who often accompanied me on trips, they asked this very question so many times, I could not count.

Of course, they probably did not know where we were heading that particular morning.  Was it going to be two minutes or two hours?  Perhaps a kid’s sense of time is very different from an adult?  I am sure I have been an adult too long to be able to answer that one!  Certainly, some kids are not willing to be bored very long and many trips are “very long.”  Perhaps smaller ones don’t have the capacity for patience that older ones may have acquired over time.

When someone asks, “Are we there yet,” we probably need to hear the tone of voice before we can be sure what is really being said.  Is it a real question?  Is it a statement of protest, instead of a real question?  Who knows?  What I want to assume is the son’s question to the father was a real question.  The father’s answer came as a real surprised when the old woman shared the punch line.

“Are we there, yet” asked the son.  “Son,” the father replied with a smile, “we are nomads!”  I added the exclamation point because that is how I chose to hear it.  We are nomads.  That was it.  The woman said no more.  She was willing to let that little story sit in the ensuring silence just like a parable from the lips of Jesus must have had a similar effect on his hearers.

I have begun to interpret the story for my own perspective.  I love the answer.  There is a Zen-like feel to it.  It sounds like a possible real answer, but it also has a more symbolic level meaning to it.  At the moment, I realized what the father had told the son, in effect, was for the nomad there is no “there.”  Or maybe in a spiritual, Buddhist sense, there is always “here.”  Either one I rather like now and am wondering what that means for me.

It is a clever spiritual way of saying to us---especially hard-driving, goal oriented, success driven people---real peace can be had only now and only here.  Yes in one real sense, we are all heading into the future---across our own desert.  Surely, we think, we are heading “somewhere.”  We may have a very specific idea where that is.  It is a point on a map or an achievement in the future.  Jobs, degrees, promotions, kids and the like are all worthy goals and worth it.  The nomad story is not a put-down of any of these “destinations.”

But paradoxically, where we are all going is already here.  There is spiritually always here.  But we have to know it.  Awareness is key.  We have to embrace it.  And we can live it.  It does not minimize our efforts at things.  Those are laudable.  But when we discover that there is always “here,” we realize the very best thing in life is gift.  I think about the title of Richard Rohr’s book, which is my favorite, Everything Belongs.  Yes, it does.

I am so glad the woman who shared the story did not continue to interpret it for us.  She has the genius of the real storyteller when she gave it to us and, effectively said, “there, do with it what you want.”  That allowed me immediately to conclude “there” is always “here.”  Relax, don’t worry.  You already have the answer, the gem, the trick---call it what you want.

Be aware, embrace and live it now.  That’s all there is.

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