A couple of summers ago, Carol and I, along with our kids and grandkids, spent a lovely week in the mountains of Colorado thanks to some dear friends who offered the use of their place. We carpooled naturally, the two of us riding with one of our daughters, our son-in-law, and their two young kids. It’s a long drive for adults, but especially for kids, which is why we stopped at several rest areas along the way to let them run around. At the second such rest area, Colin, who was five at the time, blurted out, “We’re back here again?” To him, it looked just like the one before. But he saved his best line for when we got to Denver, asking, “What language do they speak here?” In his mind, we must have driven to another part of the world.
Only it’s a good question because there’s a sizable Hispanic population in Colorado, in addition to the majority of English-speaking folks. I have always thought of travel, whether in the US or abroad, as a possible cure for xenophobia, fear of those who are different. A bunch of us at the church are traveling to Greece and Turkey this September, where we will be the minority, another possible cure for fearing those who are different.
When my wife and I climbed into the back of several Uber rides last fall in Pittsburgh, I was yet again amazed at the racial diversity of their drivers. Not a one of them was from Pennsylvania. And while some people might be uncomfortable in such a situation, I find it a great opportunity to learn about their home country, the foods they miss, the political struggles, their hopes for their loved ones back home.
The Bible speaks a lot about xenophobia, whether in Genesis when a group wants to build a city with only one language or in the Gospels when Jesus ventures into Gentile territory over the objections of some of his Jewish followers. One of his most beloved parables, the Good Samaritan, is also about our propensity to despise those who are different. Jesus calls them neighbor.
When I think of travel and xenophobia, I hope you noted how I described venturing to new places as a “possible” cure for fearing those who are different. Some people travel and never really appreciate the different cultures, different languages. For that matter, I’ve known people who refuse to travel at all. When I started teaching at the seminary, we had gone back home to Houston to be with family. I had to cut the vacation short because of a conference at which I was lecturing in Green Lake, Wisconsin. One of my in-law’s friends simply could not fathom even going to Wisconsin. For him, Texas had more than enough to offer.
Wherever your travels take you this summer, I hope—no, I pray—that you will cherish not just time away but the diversity of God’s world and the peoples who live there. As they say in Spanish, “Vaya con Dios.”
Mike
