Life on the road is hard work. Contrary to what most people think, those who make their living in a portable profession do not have a life of all glamour and glory. Travel is full of inconveniences and frustrations. One needs to learn to accept disappointing cancellations and long waits in airports or in truck stops for repairs as par for the course. Sleeping in crook-necked positions while leaning against a building pillar or, if one is fortunate, a friendly shoulder; eating food you don’t quite recognize; adjusting to performing the “routine of toilet” in less than convenient or sanitary surroundings—these are all part of the traveler’s life.
Add to these realities the assorted artistic temperaments of a troupe grouped together because they love to sing, but not necessarily because they are compatiible in other ways, and you could have the makings of a civil war. At the very least, let me say from experience, traveling together gives people ample opportunity to get to know and test the validity of each other’s Christian graces. It also develops some amazing friendships and calls forth some qualities in human character that are tantamount to sainthood.
Bill and I have been traveling as a part of our work for more than fifty years. We have had dozens—maybe, by now, hundreds—of other artists and writers, sound engineers and technicians share with us station wagons, vans, motor homes, buses, and planes for extended periods of time. We have, in that time, known a few divas, but mostly we have become well acquainted with some beautiful human beings whose confessions and professions of faith were most articulately made by the quality of their servant attitudes in the pressured and unguarded moments of life, on and off the road.
When I think of validity, perhaps no name comes so quickly to mind as that of Buddy Greene, with whom this song was written. Buddy is a man of God in the most practical and unpious sense. One of Bill’s and my all-time favorite ways to spend the hours on the road is to engage in a deep, honest discussion of a great life issue or theological concept. The truth of the adage “iron sharpens iron” is most evident when two or more people will allow each other to agree and disagree—sometimes heatedly—on the safe soil of common respect and mutual acceptance.
Buddy Greene is one of the travelers who most loves to plumb the depths of the things of God. One road discussion with him was precipitated by an article in a newspaper about the murder and sexual abuse of a child. Buddy and I were talking about how sick the world had become and how depraved human beings can act without Jesus. That turned to a discussion of how even Christian groups seem to twist and distort the simple message of love, grace, and forgiveness Jesus came to live out for us. The “politicizing” and “culturalizing” of the Gospel as a way to polarize believers seemed to us such a contradiction of Jesus’ words: “Come unto me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
“I feel sometimes like an alien,” I eventually said to Buddy. “And I’m not so sure I even want to ‘belong’ in a world where babies are abused and the powerful are rewarded for misusing the weak. When we start to ‘fit in’ in such a world, some caution light should start to blink in our souls.”
“Well, you are an alien,” Buddy said. “We all are. We’re strangers and pilgrims. But remember, an alien is not a person without a country. Aliens are citizens, but not of the country they are in for a while. We, too, are citizens. It’s just that our citizenship isn’t here.”
A few miles after our discussion, I gave Buddy a lyric I had finished. He took it home and called me later. “I think I’ve got some music to your song,” he said. “Want to hear it?” Writers often play music or read lyrics over the phone. To the tune he’d just created, Buddy sang me the lyric I’d given him. I knew it was right. “Like a glove, Buddy!” I said when he was finished.
Buddy himself recorded the song on a project he appropriately named “Sojourner’s Song,” the original title of the song. I still like that title best, though the song is now known as “I Don’t Belong.” I like “Sojourner’s Song” because the truth is, we do belong. We are citizens. It’s just that our citizenship is in another country to which we are traveling. And since this world is not our home anyway, we may as well love and give and live while we’re here as if we’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain.
