kingdom of God, and it is for that purpose that bats were created. There is no ‘plan’ for an individual bat to bite you at a specific point in time, but there is a purpose that that bat participates in, just as you and I do.”
Alan shook his head. “This is the clarity you found sitting on a rock in the forest?”
“Not exactly, though I do remember a moment of great clarity while sitting on another, much larger rock. You remember Little Yosemite, the giant rock edifice that towered a thousand feet above the east end of Pinecrest Lake? Well, you can get to the top of that cliff by hiking around to the back side—the north side—where there is a fairly gentle slope that leads to the top. One summer as a teenager Jim and I took the long hike around to the back side and up the slope until we finally made it to the top, where we rested by dangling our feet over the edge of the cliff. It was a fine, sunny day. To the east we could see far back into the high Sierra back country, with its mixture of solid granite and gentle forests. To the west lay the lake, with the little dots of sailboats floating gently across its blue-green waters. Below us was a sheer, thousand foot drop to the floor of the Boy Scout Valley, where we could still see the remains of shattered rock left behind when the glacier had ground through there thousands of years before. The warm breeze helped to cool us off, and after about half an hour, Jim, who sat at my left, got up and moved off to his left. I sat for a few more moments, then turned to my right, preparing to get up. That’s when I heard the unmistakable sound of an upset rattlesnake less than a foot away.”
“Ooh boy!”
“Yeah. In retrospect I realize that the cold-blooded rattler had been sunning himself just like I was and was probably too groggy to be of any real danger; but at the time I just froze. For a moment it passed through my mind that my only choices were to jump off a thousand foot cliff or get bitten by a rattlesnake. That snake and I stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, though it was probably only a few seconds, then I leaped backwards away from the cliff and right over the snake while screaming to Jim, ‘Snaaaaaaaaaake!’ We ran as fast as two terrified thirteen year olds could back down the hill.”
Alan was unsuccessful at suppressing his laughter. “I wish I could have seen that!”
“It is a funny story now, but I’m telling you, there can be great clarity in moments like that. Of course, fear can just freeze your mind and shut you down, but sometimes it can make you hyper-aware, super-connected to everything around you. You’re no longer external and analytical; you’re right there in it, a part of it.5 So when you do survive a scary, life-threatening situation, it connects you more thoroughly to creation, and by extension, God. So that incident didn’t endear me to snakes, but I subsequently climbed up to the top of Little Yosemite many times after that, in part to help feel that clear connection. The only difference is I always checked the spot where I was sitting a little more thoroughly!”
“So, if a rabid bat flies into the car right now, you’ll just appreciate creation more? You’d just be OK with that?”
“No. And I don’t think God expects me to be OK with that. But I wouldn’t blame it on God, and if I survived such an event I would have a choice of how to respond. I could either become neurotic from fear, and base all of my future actions on the possibility of another bat flying into my car and thus be controlled by that fear; or I could use the clarity that is the by-product of fear to understand my position in creation better, and yes, perhaps take reasonable precautions against bats, but let my life and faith be strengthened, not weakened, by such an experience.”
“You could do that?”
“People do it every day.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I shook my head. “Not with the snake. But yeah, I’ve done it.”
“Are you going to tell me about it?”
“Later. We’re still at the beginning of the story, and that comes closer to the end.”
With that we settled into a cryptic silence. The wheat fields of eastern Oregon were still going by, interspersed every now and then with grazing cattle and tiny towns that appeared to have three gas stations huddled around the freeway off-ramp, and little else. As the first hints of dusk appeared we began descending into the little valley that held the town of Pendleton. In all the years I had been making this drive, I never got to know any of the local eating establishments, but I knew the location of the Denny’s by heart. We pulled off of the freeway and directly into the parking lot.
As we climbed out of the car, Alan said, “There’s no bats in here, right?”
“Ha-ha. But maybe they have fresh rattlesnake on the menu.”
Waitresses in these little towns always look tired, and their friendliness always seems to be begging you to take them away to somewhere, anywhere else. “Becky: Service with a Smile!” showed us to our table, and although I scoured the menu intently, I couldn’t find any offering that included rattlesnake.
5. No one has described this sense of super-awareness in fear better than Gerald May in his story of the bear from The Wisdom of Wilderness.
Chapter 3: Music
For once Alan was quiet as we munched on our chicken strips. You’d think that driving would be easy—you’re just sitting on your butt all day—but it made all of my middle-aged joints ache, and we weren’t even finished with the first of our three days. Still, there must be some secret ingredient in Pepsi and french fries, because after a few minutes of eating I could feel life returning.
“Sorry to keep boring you with all these memories,” I said.
“What, are you kidding? So far as I can tell, by the age of ten you were a Zen-Druid. I don’t know any other Zen-Druids. I kinda like this Zen-Druid kid, though it still doesn’t help me at all understand how he became a Methodist—excuse me, a United Methodist minister.”
“Well, I’m not one yet, not officially anyway. Still a week to go before ordination.”
“Thinking of backing out?”
“Sometimes. I had such different aspirations for most of my life. In some ways I’m as puzzled as you are by how I ended up here.”
Alan thought for a moment. “Was one of those aspirations music? Were you into music as a kid like you are now?”
I laughed. “Oh yes! Remember, I grew up in the sixties, and I really wanted to be a rock star. At first I wanted to be Paul McCartney, but later I decided on being a folk-rock star like Crosby, Stills and Nash.”
“OK, OK! I sense another long story coming. I’ll tell you what: let me get another cup of coffee to keep me awake, and maybe some pie, while you tell me all about becoming a Druid Crosby, Stills and Nash.”
I laughed again. “Well, obviously I didn’t quite make it, but I think it’s fair to say that music has shaped my spirituality as much as my exposure to Zen and nature did.”
I flagged down “Becky: Service with a Smile!” and ordered apple pie and coffee for both of us. As I gazed out the window I could see that, only a few weeks away from the longest day of the year, the sun was still loitering low on the horizon, poised to fall into the Pacific Ocean far away in the West in just a few minutes.
