Gatlinburg musings

     It’s been several months now since we returned from our trip to the Smoky’s.  My parents had graciously decided to rent a cabin just outside Gatlinburg and invite us, along with my brother and his family, to come hang out for a week.  This was my first trip back to the area since I was a young boy.  In fact, it had been so long that the only memory I had was a vague recollection of a sheriffs badge I had been tracking down and some mountainside we tried to climb, but those could easily have come from trips to Brown County.  Regardless, I had little expectation of what we would find when we arrived. 

       It didn’t take long for the area to introduce itself.  We arrived late on Sunday night, which happened to be the 4^th of July.  We were headed down town to meet the family and watch some fireworks.  After winding through the hillside just off I40 we took a side road to miss the beginning of the Parkway through Pigeon Forge.  Following my brother’s directions we turned on Teester Road to catch the Parkway, the only road that would take us through the mountains from Pigeon Forge into Gatlinburg.  As we approached the slow transition into “city” became an abrupt introduction of lights and people and chaos.  Thankfully the side road had taken us to the tail end of Pigeon Forge so it didn’t take long to leave the city and head into the mountains again.  However, the transition was only momentary.  Soon we reached Gatlinburg and with it, the return of lights and people.   We slowly made our way along the main drag until we reached a side street that would take us down to where my family had setup to watch the fireworks.  Engulfed by the oppression of lights and shops the show just didn’t have the flare it usually does.  After the grand finale we piled into vehicles and began the trip through the mountains to the cabin.

     Throughout the rest of the week we enjoyed fly fishing in a remote mountain stream, hiking to waterfalls, riding horses through mountain pastures, and swimming in a pool near the top of a mountain with an incredible view.  All of these were amazing experiences that I am extremely grateful for.  Yet, no matter where we went or what we did I couldn’t get the contrast of the city and the mountains out of my head.  It blows my mind that in a place like that, surrounded by the majesty and wonder of the mountains people could become consumed by all the man made attractions trying so hard to steal the glory from all that stood around it.

     As I was processing all this the question a friend had asked several years prior kept coming to mind.  “Will you be a tourist or a pilgrim?”  There were a lot of people there who were simply tourists.  All they were interested in was checking items off their to do list and taking home some snap shots and souveniers to prove it.  Pilgrims, however, aren’t so interested in checking things off a list.  To be sure, they will see many of the same things and walk many of the same steps.  The difference is that a pilgrim journeys for the sake of being changed.  They are not looking to take home another trinket, they are looking to return with a new heart. 

I wonder sometimes if we don’t fall into this same trap in our communities of faith.  I wonder how often we take something that is majestic and beautiful and begin cluttering it by building our attractions right in the middle of it.  I wonder if we don’t occasionally venture into these majestic places for the sake of bringing home a trinket rather than opening ourselves to The majesty and beauty allowing Him to sink into our pours, ravaging us from the inside out.

Personally, I’ve had enough of trinkets.  I’m not interested in checking things off a to do list.  I’m interested in getting completely caught up in the raging river that is the Kingdom of God…and I don’t think I’m alone.  I wonder if you’ll dive in with me and see what God may do.