Encounters in the Dust
What are the odds?
By Carl Teichrib
One second, half-a-second...? That’s the time it would take to duck into my tent and disappear from view. But two stationary figures on the road, about 40 feet away, had stopped me in my tracks. It was a man and a woman, and they were staring at me.
And staring... and staring... and staring some more... and this is getting awkward. Ahh... they must be looking past me? I glanced over my shoulder: nothing unusual was happening. Then the man spoke, “Carl, is that you?”
The next few minutes was a mind blower.
Here is some context: Black Rock City — the temporary urban zone that makes up Burning Man — had over 70,000 citizens this year. It had a fenced perimeter of approximately 9 miles, an airport with scores of aircraft, medical facilities, a radio station and newspaper, security and police services — it’s a functioning city. And it’s crowded with campers and tents, art pieces, fire-breathing mutant vehicles, and elaborate structures. There’s always action, always movement.
So to run into someone twice at Burning Man is special, a rare treat, often resulting in smiles and hugs. To randomly run into someone three times, however, is nigh impossible. But this? It’s out of my league to calculate.
Here’s what happened: It was about 7:30AM, I had just returned from the port-o-potties and was about to catch an extra few minutes of precious sleep, when I caught sight of this couple — let’s call them B&J — standing in the street, staring at me.
Turns out this was B&J’s first Burn, but they were no strangers to exploring spirituality, having traveled extensively to gain experiences and encounters. They are hard-core seekers-and-samplers, searching for truth and meaning wherever it takes them. And this quest took them to the surreal setting of the Black Rock Desert.
Now add this to the mix: On the Friday before the Burn, Melissa Dougherty dropped a prerecorded interview with myself. The subject: Burning Man and transformational culture. B&J had watched it, then saved the video for later review.
Now, that Wednesday morning, they were playing the interview while walking down the street. It just so happened they had stopped beside our camp — the Camp of the Unknown God (they hadn’t seen our sign yet) — put my video-face on pause, and said to the effect that it would be really neat to bump into me somewhere. Then they offered a short prayer... and looked up.
It was immediate: The first person they saw was yours truly, about to go into my tent.
What are the odds, the mathematical calculations? 70,000 + total square area x thousands of random actions taking place at once, divided by the half-second it took to step into my tent, to the square-of-Melissa?!?
I failed mathematics during my school years, but I doubt the odds were favorable.
Except God.
Shock, hugs, bewilderment: This was deep, and we knew it, so there was very little fluffy talk. I gave them a copy of my book, and they returned for more conversations, attending some of our Bible studies that week. One of their camp mates — let’s call him D, another hard-core seeker — read the first 100 pages of my book that morning, had his paradigm crack, and so he was at our camp, hungry for more. Another camp mate, “M,” dropped in as well.
On Friday morning George Olson led a workshop titled “Stories of the Supernatural,” and they were all there; B&J, D, and M. This opened space for conversations about personal experiences, while reinforcing the truth of God’s word as it speaks to the supernatural, with the gospel message presented as the only hope. M was astonished and overwhelmed, for a voice sounding like his deceased mother had been giving him advice, and now he needed guidance about what to do. During and after the workshop, the rest of our camp-mates poured into those attending; more deep conversations, hugs, tears, smiles... with heads shaking in disbelief over this incredible encounter in the dust.
