2/27/06

"You God, are my God, earnestly I seek you;
I thirst for you, my whole being longs for you,
in a dry and parched land where there is no water."
--psalm 63:1

Jen and I are in Las Vegas, invited by some friends to stay at a timeshare for the weekend. The irony of the psalmists' words are rich out here in the desert. There would be no water here if humanity hadn't piped it in. But as it is there is water aplenty: lagoons and fountains, pools and ponds. The water is an attraction in this dry place, people gather around it, drawn to the life of it. But like the rest of the city the refreshing of this water is an illusion, little more than a "mirage" in the desert.

The hotels and casinos and streets are all crowded, but most people seem to have an air of death around them and the city, for all its crowds, is spiritually vacant. We gamble, we drink and we are assaulted by smoke and the temptations of the flesh. Every pleasure offered here is momentary and regret seems to lurk around every corner.

Where is God in this place? And why am I here?

Las Vegas reminds me of why it is so hard to live a life aware of the living God in North America. It typifies the noise, the excess, the escape, the replacement that is our culture. There are gods all around here but finding the one, true God is next to impossible. One has to be quiet; look past and inbetween, and be persistent. This is a difficult task anywhere, let alone in Vegas. And yet--after all is said and done--God is what I long for, even in this desert. Meet me here.