Some of the most fun I remember as a kid was traveling dusty roads with Rube. He was my mother’s cousin: an eccentric character with a kind, loving heart, a 1947 Dodge pickup truck, and a beagle dog named “Betty.”

He would pull up to our house every few weeks, usually on a summer afternoon, and ask if we “wanted to go for a ride.” My mom was a widow and we didn’t have a car so this was a welcome invitation.

Soon, I’d be tucked between Rube and Mom on the truck’s wide front seat, holding Betty on my lap and looking forward to what lay ahead. I had been on these rides enough to know they would include bumping down some country road with a cloud of dust following us, with some of it blowing in the open windows.

There was sure to be at least one jolting stop when Rube would jam on the brakes, grind the gears into reverse, and back up to point out a groundhog popping his head out of a hole or a deer and her fawn gazing at us from a cluster of trees. Betty would bark, the deer or groundhog would bolt, Rube would shift into low gear, and off we would go.

Some days we would suddenly pull onto a dirt path that led to a dilapidated barn where Rube might find some rusting treasure the landowner would possibly sell for “junk” price. Rube was an original “picker.”

Eventually, we would find a country store with a wide front porch, a screen door that made a satisfying sound when we entered, and, best of all, a penny candy counter. I was allowed to pick whatever candy I wanted. Anything that contained chocolate was good with me. And, we couldn’t leave without a bottle of orange pop.

There were days when we had been on so many dusty roads I would suspect we might be lost. If I asked Rube, he’d just smile and say, “You stick with me, and I’ll show you all the back roads in the country.” Somehow it reassured me that a fellow who knew all those roads certainly could not be lost.

As I look back, I realize what pure and simple pleasures these outings were. They required no maps, no pre-planning, no reservations, and no special destination.

As an adult, I have come to appreciate the benefits of simplicity and how often it is overlooked in favor of growth, change, and expansion.

When Jesus was walking the dusty roads of Nazareth, Capernaum, Samaria, Jericho, Jerusalem, and Emmaus, it was in ultimate simplicity. He had one clear message: “I am the way, the truth and the life: no one cometh unto the Father, but by me” (John 14:6 NKJV). And in Luke 9:3, he urges his disciples to, “take nothing for the journey, neither staff, nor bag, not bread, nor money: and do not have two tunics apiece.” Jesus’ followers had faith that he knew the road they should take and wanted passionately to shepherd them on their journey and to reassure them they were not lost.

Those who followed him down those dusty roads did not require an ornate building or a religious hierarchy to interpret the message Jesus was preaching. He explained that, “God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth” (John 4:24).

When Jesus gave the direction to go out and “preach to the world” it naturally gave rise, in some minds, that more organization was needed to spread the message (Matthew 24:14). Although it is understandable that a certain framework is necessary when trying to accomplish given goals, that very framework can often end up sorting, labeling, and judging those outside the framework. As much as there is need for direction in the accomplishment of shared goals, there is also danger that the movement becomes a force unto itself.

In gathering momentum and power, there can be a loss of the original message. Simple objectives and loving attitudes often fall victim to the need to improve, enlarge, and strengthen the structure itself. The walls go up, and soon we have built, not a bridge where we can meet, but a fortress that keeps us in and others out. Perhaps that is why Jesus preferred to preach out in the open to people hoping only to become part of the body of Christ.

In our complex, multi-layered world today, we may think it impossible to return to the simplicity of the early followers. But isn’t it worth contemplating? Can you imagine simply walking down the dusty roads behind Jesus and listening to Him speak to your heart?

Nancy Baumgartner, White Pine Church, Cogan House Township