DAYS 88-90 - Omaha and into Iowa

Esther Lisa Tishman
Oct 2
5 min read

The average length of a human stride is 2.5 feet. With my trekking poles, when I'm walking big and strong, my strides may be as long as 3 feet. A yard. That's also just exactly the difference between the height of Libby, our rolling RV refuge - she stands 10.6 feet tall - and the 7.6 foot clearance of the portico at the Quality Inn in Council Bluffs.

Guess who forgot all the above computations when picking up our newest pilgrim, Chris Kellow?

That's how Day 90 began for me. Bob was crossing the Missouri into Iowa. I was crunching our rig in Council Bluffs.

In truth, no worries. The portico seems to have been edged in styrofoam and plaster of paris (a prior repair?) - and apart from a few scratches that are only visible when you're literally standing on Libby's roof, the rig is unscathed. And... #ThatsWhyIHaveInsurance

Sigh.

Day 90. We have been walking for three months, friends. Let's just let that fact sink in.... Just two months left before Washington. And here at the three-months, sixty-percent-complete mark, we took an unprecedented opportunity to stop - taking three full days in Omaha, in order to really connect with the land, the people, their histories, their communities.

On Day 88 while Bob connected with his Welsh heritage by exploring the history of Welsh settlers in the Great Plains - I visited three classes at Creighton University. I was generously hosted by Dr. Zachary Smith who unleashed me on his frosh- and senior-level classes. It was the most fun ever. I haven't scribbled on a blackboard or gotten covered in chalk dust for at least ten years! This, my friends, is actually heaven.

Speaking of heaven, Zach is a historian of religion, specializing in faiths of the Mediterranean world, and in American Christianity. His students adore him and vice versa. For me visiting classes was an opportunity - especially poignant in a world reeling from school shootings, political violence and of course Charlie Kirk's assassination - to check in with emerging adults. What are they feeling? What are they wanting? Most importantly - especially for students at a mission-based college like Creighton: how are they making meaning?

Does the world make sense to them?

Creighton students are not overtly "political" nor even overtly "religious." But the 90+ that I met on Monday seemed thoughtful, conscientious, curious. I told them about Liberty Walks, said a few things about pilgrimage, about what it means to call our Walk "an act of faith" in these contentious times - and I shared with them my increasing confidence that empathy works, when discourse fails. There were nods across the room. The algorithm, social media, our information silos mean that it's become harder and harder to get to common ground when we disagree - and disagreements feel more and more painful, more existential when they arise.

A political science major shared that he and his girlfriend discovered last fall that they were voting on different sides of the aisle. They almost broke up; went through great difficulty. "If you can get through, it can make you stronger," someone offered. "But sometimes you can't make it through," another student said. A woman shared that she's had to drift away from one of her closest friends in high school because of her friend's belief that homosexuality is a sin. "One of my cousins is gay," she explained simply.

Another woman who had been listening to me closely, regarding me intently, at this point raised her hand. "What happens when you can't have empathy?" I asked her if she'd experienced points of view or behaviors that were too harmful to bear. Her answer was obvious. YES.

It was then that we talked, in that class, about reconciliation. A good half of Creighton students are Catholic, so I pointed to the Sacrament of Reconciliation. I mentioned the holiday I would be celebrating in another couple of days - Yom Kippur. We agreed that faith isn't something that you have, but something that you keep. You keep the faith. And when that mutual faith feels broken, repair requires a willingness and renewed commitment on both sides. In Judaism this is teshuvah. In Catholicism, this is the work of reconciliation. A returning to a shared bond - an avowal of kinship, connection, intimacy. The political science major, Andrew, was nodding at this point. That's how he and his girlfriend got through their election crisis.

The girl with the attentive, sad eyes was still holding eye contact with me. I said: Sometimes the breach can't be healed. She nodded in agreement, slowly. Or at least not yet, I offered. She shrugged.

Reconciliation was a theme in Zach's classes; it's an institutional principle at Tri-Faith: the remarkable interfaith initiative across town. The Tri-Faith Initiative emerged out of a shared sense of community between Omaha Jews and Omaha Muslims in the days following 9/11. Over the years that shared good faith blossomed into a conversation about shared needs and goals. A partnering Christian congregation was sought to extend the dialogue to all three of the Abrahamic faiths. Countryside Community Church joined the initiative. Remarkably, the vision became concrete: funds were raised, land was purchased, and between 2013 and 2020 four gorgeous structures were built, clustered around a single design spirit and comprising a unified campus: Temple Israel, the American Muslim Institute, Countryside Community Church and finally the Tri-Faith Center itself: "a beacon of hope and safe haven for dialogue and friendship-building."

On Tuesday, Bob and I met a group of leaders and volunteers from Countryside and Temple Israel - toured the garden and walked several times around the Tri-Faith campus along the stunning Abraham's Circle Bridge. This was a sacred circumambulation indeed. A praying mantis and many pollinating monarchs kept us company.

Marcia Blum of Countryside helped us understand the literal fruits - and veggies and leafy greens - of a passionate interfaith ministry. A robust crew of volunteers spend at least three mornings a week volunteering in the Tri-Faith Unity Garden and Orchard. Their work in the soil feeds hundreds, stocking regional food pantries and cupboards, as well as working directly with about 100 food-insecure families throughout greater Omaha.

Particularly powerful is the Garden's commitment to grow independence and choice. Tri-Faith volunteers help communities start their own gardens - and they also ask their community partners what foods they like and then plant the Tri-Faith crops accordingly. Now daikon and okra are among the crops raised, for instance. Independence and choice.

Meanwhile, thanks to the "Browse" program at Omaha’s Henry Doorly Zoo, even soil emendation serves a larger community need: Siberian elms are an invasive species that need to be removed in order to help restore the native grasslands; fortunately they are the perfect snack for giraffes and elephants. Nothing is wasted when all are served.