Tourists to Pilgrims

1 Peter 2: 9, 10

Psalm 84

September 14, 2025

I remember vividly the events of 9/11. Waking up to the horror of planes flying into towers, of the uncertainty and fear in the knowledge that a good friend had been scheduled to captain the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania, learning that church members had entire divisions of their companies lost n New York, knowing that former – but still beloved – members of my youth groups worked in the Twin Towers – it is all still a vivid memory.

The events happened on a Tuesday morning, and I was scheduled to preach the following Sunday. I had preached the Sunday after the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995. That large sanctuary had been full and many voiced appreciations for my sermon; but just as many – actually quite a bit more – had wondered why the Senior Pastor had not preached on that day. I remembered those comments as I went into my head of staff’s office on 9/11 and bluntly told him that he could not take the Sunday after 9/11 off; that the Sanctuary would be full, and looking for a helpful word from their senior pastor.

We argued that point for several days, but to his credit, the senior pastor finally agreed to preach. The Sanctuary was packed and Peter – a gifted preacher – brought a strong message. If you are old enough to remember, churches across the country measured a strong increase in attendance for months to follow. People flocked to houses of worship trying to make sense of an evil that had struck our country’s shores for the first time.

Nine months later, churches in America experienced attendance at levels that were actually below 9/11 church attendance numbers. Why? Because people came back to the church trying to understand sin and evil and instead, we gave them ritual and performance. People were looking for a personal experience of a transcendent God in the midst of pain and heartache and we gave them religiosity. People were hurting and we gave them customs, traditions, and liturgy. The church – wrapped up in being the institutional church – missed a tremendous opportunity to be relevant. Shame on us!

Now here we are, almost 25 years later, and we are faced with a similar time of cultural chaos. Our political system seems torn asunder by competing claims and ideologies. August and September brought us, not only the start of school, but also the horrific resumption of school shootings in Minneapolis and Evergreen, Colorado. The grounds for the debate around immigration has been transferred from the courts to the streets. Violence – both verbal and physical seems to be getting normalized and that normalization of violence has resulted in the horrific events of this week. Regardless of where you fall politically, how has assassination morphed into a legitimate response to a difference of style and opinion no matter how strident the differences?

How we respond this time, what we have to offer THIS TIME, has to be grounded in more than ritual, religiosity, custom, and tradition. How we respond, what we have to offer has to be more than a distinction between denominational and nondenominational churches; more than contemporary or traditional; more than the religious status quo.

We need to offer a living God who is both present and transcendent. We have to offer what is uniquely the church’s to offer. Dr. Stan Mast, in his commentary on Psalm 84 offered this take.

“One spiritual pilgrim put it this way. ‘I looked for God up on the mountain, and I found grandeur; but it was not God. I looked for God down by the shore, and I found relaxation; but it was not God. I looked for God on the golf course, and I found camaraderie; but it was not God. I looked for God in my family home, and I found love; but it was not God. I looked for God everywhere, and I found many wonderful things; but I could not find God. Then I went to church, and there I found God.’”

Notice, in the story there is a longing, a desire, a journey to find God. In our Psalm, the writers speaks of a longing, a spiritual hunger for God. “My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the Lord.” When 9/11 hit people’s soul longed for a transcendent God. When school shootings hit people’s soul long for an experience of God that helps them to both understand the reality of sin in our midst and the hope that God brings. When assassination as a political act gets normalized; or at least somehow viewed as an understandable response to disagreement, people’s soul long for a sense of community, a sense of righteousness, and a sense of justice and compassion rooted in a transcendent God.

There was recently an article in the Atlantic Monthly suggesting that there is, in fact, a decline in the numbers of those longing for God. Jonathan Rausch wrote, “Someone asked me about my religion. I was about to say, “Atheist,” but I stopped myself. ‘I used to be an atheist,’ I said, ‘and I still don’t believe in God, but the larger truth is that it has been years since I really cared one way or another. I’m an apatheist.’ Apatheism is not caring about one’s religion, and even less about other peoples.”

Apathiesm. Yes, it is a real and growing phenomenon. But I would suggest it is less the inadequacy of God and more a reluctance of the institutional church to bust out of the old, tried, and traditional view of church and being a believer and offer a new, invigorating sense of God.

For far too many, being a believer has devolved to doing the right things, uttering the same words, conducting the right rituals.

I am captivated by the number of authors, borrowing from the writings and productions of Rick Steves, a noted travel expert and also a devoted member of Trinity Lutheran Church in Lynwood, Washington. Steves writes about the spiritual aspects of traveling and Christian writers like John Ortberg and Bill Wilson have transferred Steve’s categories into their critique of church expectations and our failure to combat apatheism.

Steves and others talk about 3 categories of travelers – and here I want us to hear that word “traveler” as being used to describe the person whose soul is longing for the Lord; who find themselves – and their hearts – on the highway to Zion.

First is the tourist who is simply looking to do fun, interesting things and to have experiences. The tourist moves through the world, and the church, looking for experiences that are intellectually or experientially stimulating. These experiences may add to their general sense of knowledge, but they do nothing to transform the soul of the tourist. The tourist is the same coming out of the church, coming out of the travel site, as they are going in. They only have a larger travel portfolio.

The next level up is the traveler. Theologians suggest that this category represents the great majority of church attendees today. The traveler comes to the church, to the destination site, to learn, to appreciate different ways of being culturally and historically. They come to learn more about people, to learn more about different ways of being on an intellectual level, but little of that learning moves from head knowledge to heart transformation. The traveler may stay for a while. The traveler may even pitch a tent and commit to stay. But that stay lasts only as long as the educational or entertainment value as they identify it remains high.

These people can recite the Lord’s Prayer in protestant, catholic, orthodox, contemporary or traditional forms but those utterances have no more power and intent than does the ordering off a fast-food menu at a drive through. They are just so much religious white noise. Travelers find great joy and knowledge in their travels, but little, if any, spiritual transformation. Typically, their self-contentment is just too high.

The final category, the final call, is to travel – is to seek God and his church as a pilgrim. A pilgrim travels, a pilgrim experiences, a pilgrim immerses themselves in a way of being with the intention, with the stated purpose, of self-reflection and transformation.

Oh, that we would be a church of pilgrims. That we would be a church that is no longer satisfied with learning about Jesus, but instead are committed in ALL that we do to being transformed by the Holy Spirit into the likeness of Christ.

In these chaotic days, we are looking for an encounter, a life of meaning and purpose, a relationship with God through Jesus that makes a power that can transform our lives possible. The psalmist identifies our longing; our experience gives voice to our longing. The psalmist calls us to an encounter with God. Not with grandeur. Not relaxation. Not comradery. Not even love – as the world defines and offers love.

We are looking to be in the presence of God, as pilgrims seeking the one with whom we are in relationship. Pilgrims – seeking, finding, loving, and being transformed by God. That is what we have to offer. Will you join us? Amen.