The Renovating Reverend

One of the perks of living in an old downtown area is being close to little cafes and shops.  We’re lucky to have a small, old diner downtown that is still going strong.  During the winter, we found ourselves walking over there on most Sundays, the day of the week on which they make biscuits and gravy.  The owner is quite a character.  If two people sit down at a big booth on a busy day, he’ll strongly suggest they move to the counter, to make room for a larger party.  And he’ll holler a warning at patrons about the syrup bottles that can shoot the homemade syrup out at high velocity.  He makes large, orange-colored pancakes that are, apparently, mentioned in travel literature as something not to be missed.  Although you can find all kinds of people in the diner on any given day, folks who are obviously tourists will occasionally show up for the pancake.  Some tourists are from town, and some are from out of town.
 
What makes a tourist?  I’ve traveled the world just enough to confidently form the opinion that there is a big difference between a traveler and a tourist.  Travelers are out to experience a place and, sometimes, participate in local life.  Tourists, wherever they go, seem to be observing a place and its people as though they are completely outside of the tourist’s experience.  For example, last Sunday, a woman and a man sat down at the counter next to us, and proceeded to comment on the place as though none of the rest of us could hear or understand them — it was as if they were sitting at home in front of the TV, commenting on a show.  This lasted until shortly after the cook dished up their order, at which time they settled down and focused on their food, engaging in quiet conversation and watching other patrons come and go.  After we’d packed away our biscuits and gravy, and were walking back home, I couldn’t help but think that, if the couple had continued to hold themselves apart from the environment, they would have completely missed experiencing the place as the regulars do, and it’s likely that they would have been evaluating the food rather than really tasting and enjoying it.
 
You can probably guess where I’m going with this.  I wonder if there are ways in which all of us might be acting like tourists in our everyday lives.  Could we be be missing out on a slice of life because we’re using the tourist strategy to keep ourselves aloof, apart from people and places we’re unfamiliar or uncomfortable with?  Could we be judging people or things without even trying to get to know them, perhaps to, again, keep ourselves at a “safe” distance? The Christian Bible says that perfect love drives away fear, and Jesus of Nazareth is certainly depicted in scripture as a traveler who displayed a fearless love, while encouraging others to follow his example. So many other revered spiritual leaders have done the same. So, in all of our daily travels, may we have the courage and love to move beyond tourism. May we be fully present, participate fully in life, wherever it takes us.