It was supposed to be a delightful pastoral  staff retreat in the Great Smoky Mountains.  For several years, our pastoral staff had spent four or five days together in early Autumn to bond together and spiritually renew our souls for the task of leading the church.  More than once we had rented a mountain retreat house, cooked most of our own meals, enjoyed camaraderie outside the daily grind, and personal time with God.  Our espirit de corps was strengthened as the mind relaxed.  But in the Fall of 2012 our trip included a scene more reminiscent of a Tom Hanks nightmare than a refreshing retreat– especially for one special castaway and his comrades.

The journey from Birmingham to our rustic log house retreat on the outskirts of Gatlinburg was generally uneventful– IF you consider a seven hour ride in a 15 passenger “people mover” (basically a wide bodied box on two axles) with Pastor Ron articulating the correct positions on every subject known to man, as “uneventful.”

Pastors Ron, Jeremy, Joel, Jason, Larry, Benny, Clark, and I shed our pastoral titles for the duration of the trip and enjoyed the ride together as friends– true friends.

In the late afternoon we checked in at the rental agency office on the main road several miles outside of Gatlinburg– picking up our keys, getting directions to the cabin location, and for some, making a quick bathroom stop– just as it was closing for the day.  Lucky us.

Then the “people mover” headed up the winding mountain road to our retreat destination.  Driving up and down the steep grades, hairpin curves, and sharp turns left me nauseated during the slow 4 mile ascent to the cabin, but the beauty of the place made it well worth the trouble.  Unloading all of our stuff, we settled in– everyone finding a place to sleep and discovering all the cabin had to offer us for the next few days.

Clark and I were the main cooks, so we soon drove back down the mountain to locate the nearest grocery.  We had lots of supplies to purchase.  Clark’s spectacular potato soup, and his homemade chili had become a tradition for the guys, as had my annual fresh veggie-pallouzza feast.  The Red Lion supermarket, we discovered, was a good 10 miles away.  GPS accuracy in the mountains of Tennessee is semi-dependable at best, but we found it.

It was almost dark as we pulled into the Red Lion parking lot. Clark’s mobile phone rang.  I heard him answer, and then say to the caller,

“Oh, hey Benny.  What’s up?”  In my mind it was obvious.  Benny and the guys had a list of snack purchases we were to make while shopping.  I was walking toward the market when I heard Clark say,

“What? (pause) Well, Benny, we had no idea!  I am so sorry.”  I thought how strange that sounded, so I glanced back at Clark who was still standing beside our wide-load van.  He was red-faced with a frozen stance, showing a look of deep consternation. I wondered if Benny had just got word of a death in the family, or of an emergency back home.  The last thing I heard Clark say was, “OK, we’ll be there shortly.”

“Mark!” he called out to me as he put his cell phone away.  “We left Benny as the rental office!”  I was totally aghast!

“But that was over two hours ago!” I responded.

“I know!!  He said he thought it was a joke at first, but we never came back to get him.  He didn’t have his phone so he couldn’t call us.  He eventually had to walk down the road to find a random pay phone since the rental office was closed,  And he doesn’t sound happy at all!

“How could we have done that!” I declared.  “And none of the other guys even noticed?”  I felt like such a hypocrite for saying that–  I didn’t notice either!

“I’m so embarrassed,” Clark mumbled.  I noticed his eyes were watering.

“So am I,” I added.   “If it had been me, I would be furious right now.!”

“I’m pretty sure he is!”  Clark responded.  But to add insult to injury, we went ahead and did our shopping at the Red Lion.  Benny had waited this long– what’s another 30 minutes?  We did call the guys at the cabin and told them.  They needed ample time to soul-search as well.

When Clark and I finally picked him up on the roadside, we greeted him with profuse repentance and self-degradation.  “Benny, I don’t know what to say.” was Clark’s first comment.  Mine was, “Benny, can you ever forgive us?”

It’s Benny’s nature to be happy, jovial, and always forgiving.  He was certainly forgiving– but happy and jovial were not words that described him that evening.  Benny then relayed his whole experience as we journeyed back up nausea mountain.  He described it like this:

“After about 30 minutes I realized it wasn’t a joke.  Then after an hour or more had passed, I was really upset.  Then, of course, it started to rain. I had no cash, no phone, and no where to shelter since the office was closed!  I just sat by the road and waited.  Finally, I was relieved when I saw the people mover coming down the road to rescue me.  I stood up and waved just in time to see you and Clark race right pass me and down the road!  I went from upset to mad!  It was a nightmare!  Not only was I stranded– marooned– a castaway– I was not even missed!!!!”

Clark and I both felt like dogs.  I wanted to punish myself in some meaningful way.  Clark was so torn up that he got us lost on our trip back up the mountain to the rental cabin!

“Oh, and by the way Clark,” Benny continued, “I had to use the office credit card to call Diane (his wife), so that she could give me your cell number, so I could call you!  I think it was like $7 a minute…. and I talked to Diane for a good while, too.  Can a man not go to the bathroom without the fear of being left?”

Our arrival the cabin with Benny was awkward at best.  There were bowed heads and embarrassed looks, and, of course, some apologies.  Pastor Ron was uncharacteristically quiet.  But within five minutes, the whole cabin was in uproarious laughter as we heard the whole story from poor Benny’s perspective.  Fortunately, Benny was the best natured guy among us for it to happen to.  Any of the rest of us might have resigned our position on the spot, or committed random acts of violence for such a cruel display friendship.

But not Benny.  He remains a prince among us.  In fact, he gave me permission to tell this story– and laughed the whole time we recalled its details together.

  “Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins.”   1 Peter 4:8

So one may ask, “How did such a thoughtless thing happen in a group of close friends who love each other very much?”  Easy answer.  The guys who were usually leading were relaxing.  Off duty.  Nobody was in charge.

Epic fail.