In the early pages of Neil Tomba's "The Listening Road: One Man's Ride Across America to Start Conversations About God," you'd be hard-pressed to realize that Tomba is the senior pastor of Dallas's Northwest Bible Church, a congregation established in 1951 that Tomba has served as senior pastor for the past 20+ years.
It's not that Tomba doesn't come off as pastoral. He certainly does. It's that Tomba's writing possesses a normalcy and humility that is rare among evangelical writers and certainly evangelical pastors.
Of course, there's no hiding the pastoral roots that serve as the foundation of "The Listening Road," a chronicle of Tomba's 33 days wheeling across America with a team of friends and family having what he often refers to as "deeper" conversations that are, essentially, conversations about God.
"The Listening Road" isn't about Tomba as a fundraiser. There wasn't a fundraising aspect to this trip. It's not about Tomba's role as an activist - the only true "cause" here is Jesus and the only real reason for this trip was to have deeper conversations and even deeper listening.
To his credit, and admittedly to my surprise, Tomba never really defines his theology in "The Listening Road" despite having conversation after conversation about God. At times, Tomba openly confesses having had to bite his tongue as people would say things that would trigger his own defense of God, of Jesus, of Scripture, and of his life of faith. It was only after finally looking up Northwest Bible Church that I began to get a glimpse at Tomba's own faith journey and evangelical beliefs. A graduate of Dallas Theological Seminary, Tomba leads a rather large church (this admittedly also surprised me) with a wide variety of ministries and a strong commitment to community.
This trip started partly out of Tomba's own 18-year vision for making such a trip and was truly inspired by Tomba's increasing awareness that people were having trouble with conversations about God when outside the church walls AND because of the growing disconnection and conflicts that seemingly far too often define our relationships with those whom we disagree.
"The Listening Road" is about those conversations that Tomba and his team had while they were on the road. They often biked 100+ miles daily while never passing up the opportunity to have conversations, some expected and some definitely not, along the way.
While one might think that an evangelical pastor would inevitably turn preachy along the way, Tomba surrendered to listening even during those times when he found himself disagreeing and even when the pastor in him wanted to "prove" a point.
In other words, Tomba is for the most part a breath of fresh air. "The Listening Road" gives us the richly human Tomba, a man who has bad days, makes bad decisions, occasionally causes the tension he's trying to teach against, gets hurt, gets hurt again, sometimes comes off as more judgmental than I think he likely realizes, but surrenders himself to this wonderful concept of listening to people along the road whether they're like him or a polar opposite.
He has heart-wrenching experiences.
He has maddening experiences.
He has funny experiences.
He has humbling experiences.
He projects a pastoral presence and people respond to his quiet presence by revealing themselves to him (and others in his team) along the way.
I never less than enjoyed "The Listening Road," though admittedly at nearly 300 pages in length the stories at times became a bit redundant as did Tomba's response to his experiences. There is very little structural variation in "The Listening Road" - this is, quite simply, a vivid and engaging accounting of Tomba's 33 days on the road including the road experiences and those treasured conversations.
There are moments in "The Listening Road" when it feels like Tomba's holding back. This is, perhaps, a direct result of the fact that on some level by choosing to primarily listen Tomba really did hold back parts of himself in these conversations. Would these conversations have worked as well with another approach? Probably not. But, there's still that sense at times of wishing I could more emotionally connect with Tomba's experience.
Tomba is also quick to give space to those with whom he traveled. We become fond of people like Caroline and Wes and Tomba's own wife Vela among others. While I admittedly wanted a little bit more about their own experiences with conversations, Tomba is remarkably quick to share their experiences on the road and you can get a sense that this entire road trip completely changed their relationships in profound ways.
As a wheelchair user who has done my own long-distance events up to and including a 41-day, 1086 mile trip traveling alone in my wheelchair, I found myself resonating with many of Tomba's experiences throughout the book including his rather profound observations as the trip wound down. I've often said that when you travel at 2-3 miles per hour (my speed in a wheelchair), you say "hi!" to everyone and there's no one you can get away from. In many ways, this is Tomba's experience - being on the road in such a profound ways seemingly caused him to experience God in a most vulnerable way and the same ended up being true for his teammates and all they encountered.
"The Longest Road" won't likely resonate with everyone and certainly not with those uncomfortable with Tomba's central mission of very outwardly having conversations about God, discussing religion, talking about religion, and sometimes (frequently) shutting up and listening.
If I lived in Dallas, I have a feeling I'd embrace Tomba as a senior pastor and this community of faith that seemed to support this wild mission. However, for those who've ever engaged in late night conversations about deeper matters or who've ever had just the perfect experiencing of talking or listening, "The Listening Road" is practically a must-read. As someone who spent 30 years of my life traveling by wheelchair (just ending my event last year), I was engaged, challenged, inspired, and even entertained. I wanted to get to know Tomba, his team, and even some of the folks he met along the way.
In the end, at least for me, the lesson was that the perfect way to truly start deeper conversations about life and God is to actually simply listen.