On an AMTRAK stop in small-town Illinois, I spied this fellow camped out not far from the tracks. I don’t know his story, but I figure he’s something of a vagabond, perhaps ill-starred, perhaps determined to be homeless. Maybe he’s been wrecked financially or familially. Whatever his story, he seems to be working with a minimum of relational obligations—no job to report to; no trash to take out for the missus; no kids’ recitals to attend; no church committees to serve; no McGruff neighborhood watch teamship.

It reminded me of how “unfree” I am, “burdened” by the expectations of the church small group that meets in our home; by a publisher awaiting a contracted manuscript; by grandkids expecting Christmas and birthday presents; by a spouse needing help with some heavy lifting; by the people on our street who want me to keep our grass cut. 

Some dream of the day when they can “get away from it all.” In fact, we’ve run across a few on our current train trip West—folks who are just wandering, maybe getting off at the next big town, or maybe not. Many are retirees, chilling out and looking at things they’ve never seen before, whether Old Faithful, El Capitan, or Fisherman’s Wharf—sauntering, as it were, across the land. Of course, they’re not like the fellow in the tent. They have the wherewithal to buy the tickets, but, at this stage in life, a fair number of them seem content pick up on his lifestyle, accountable to nobody with nobody accountable to them.

Except one fellow I got to talk with at our food stop on the way back down from Yosemite—a black man in his eighties, who continued to work for a confectionary company on the East Coast. He said he cherished his job and that he’d probably die if he stopped working. He didn’t mind at all being answerable to the company and to his family (including his equally energetic wife, a former army mechanic, who was with him). And I imagine that others are answerable to him, perhaps in terms of quality control at the factory. 

So, as taxing as the web of accountability might be, it also gives us opportunities for the stewardship of our lives, for growth, and for, yes, meaning. So, I don’t envy the freedom of that fellow by the tracks. Give me demanding community, most notably in family and church life.