What I’ve learned on my book tour

Getting out there is better than staying home (and other important lessons)

After writing a book on the spiritual transformation that’s possible when people travel, you won’t be surprised that I’m looking for spiritual meaning in my book tour as well. Some people can’t help themselves. Like me, for example.

My previous book—Chasing After Wind—appeared in 2022 toward the end of the worldwide pandemic, and consequently my book tour, such as it was, happened mostly from my home office. I appeared on lots and lots of podcasts and radio shows. My favorite was a Sunday morning conversation on Jazzy88 (WFSK), the public radio station connected to Fisk University in Nashville, Tennessee (one of those historically black colleges and universities in the U.S.)

What I missed in 2022 was going out and meeting people and talking about the book. I’m not sure what I would have talked about. It was a memoir, after all, and so there really wasn’t much to talk about, unless you count my life experiences. Which I do, but what I’m trying to say is that there was nothing to build a class around.

With my latest book, by contrast—The Traveler’s Path—there are lots of travel stories to tell, funny and not-so-funny, and the people I’m talking to like to tell stories of their own. To date, I’ve spoken at two different retirement communities, two lifelong learning academies (both connected to local colleges in the area), one professional club (like Rotary, but not as silly), and to a lot of Sunday morning adult education classes in quite a few churches throughout western Michigan. RCA churches mostly, but a couple of PCUSA churches too. Even the Presbyterian church I attend here in Holland, Michigan!

I’m happy to report that adult ed is alive and well in every church I’ve visited, and the young pastors (they’re all young to me) know how to get my laptop hooked up to their projectors and screens surprisingly fast. Actually, the state of technology in every church I’ve visited has been impressive. (Among other things, the worldwide pandemic seems to have nudged churches, especially the reluctant ones, to step up their technology game.)

The most touching visit to date was to the church in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, where I was ordained as a PCUSA pastor nearly 45 years ago. (September 20, 1980, is the date, in case you’d like to send me a card.) Many of the people at the church remembered who I was and were probably surprised that I lasted as long as I did in ministry, given how many rookie mistakes I made during my first year. Their current pastor even invited me to participate in Sunday worship, and I nearly began to cry when I stood behind the table, broke bread, and said the “words of institution” I had memorized all those years ago. I had so much fun seeing my former church members that I even went to the choir picnic that afternoon. (As every pastor knows, church choirs have historically thrown the best parties. Sadly, choirs are gradually disappearing. It’s hard to imagine that the praise teams taking their place will ever throw the kind of parties I remember attending with church choirs.)

I’m looking forward to more church visits in the weeks to come, but one in particular. My longest stretch as a church pastor occurred in Wheaton, Illinois, where I demonstrated all the gifts for ministry that were so noticeably missing back in Harrisburg. I plan to be with the Wheaton church on the last Sunday in October, so consider this an invitation to join me on that day, if you’re still living in the western suburbs of Chicago. If I nearly cried in Harrisburg, you can bet that I’ll be sobbing my way through the Wheaton weekend.

My travels with church groups—the ones I write about in Traveler’s Path—really began in Wheaton. We had lots of newly retired members at the time who were itching to spend their retirement savings on travel, and so we went to places like Israel (more than once), Greece and Turkey, as well as Scotland (a “roots of the Reformation” tour). When we ran out of religious travel destinations, a few suggested visiting Caribbean islands named after saints, and I finally said no, though reluctantly

With my most recent book, I have been the guest on nearly two dozen podcasts as well as one radio show. The host of that broadcast, “Morning News with Tim Harwood” (KXEL), serving Waterloo, Cedar Rapids, and Cedar Falls, Iowa, invited me on to talk about my previous book and remembered me when my new book appeared this spring. The podcasts, I must say, have all been enjoyable, except for one host who seems to enjoy poking fun of guests for their Christian faith. (Somehow I missed that when I agreed to be on his show.) Everyone in the country without a Substack newsletter seems to have a podcast. And there is a lot of air time to fill.

So, where is the spiritual meaning I mentioned at the beginning? Some of it is in re-connecting with people I have known, and the wonder of that, but some of it is the discovery of vibrant Christian communities throughout western Michigan, with lay leaders who put a great deal of time and energy into planning their church’s adult education.

Church members are getting older, and memberships are shrinking, as everyone has heard by now, but the churches I’ve visited are still going strong. And I’ve enjoyed being a small part of that.

Photos: (from the top) Pine Street Presbyterian Church in Harrisburg, KXEL among the corn, First Presbyterian Church in Wheaton, Jazzy88 in Nashville, and finally yours truly, teaching somewhere.